AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hey, peeps! Okay, so I've decided to expand my "Reasons" collections, (as some people have called them in the past) with this latest one: The 15 Reasons To Be Scared Of Gwen. And yes, the title DOES say it all. So, my ultimate goal here is to convince you of just how terrifying Gwen can be. Oh, I'm gonna really enjoy this... hope you all like!

STANDARD DISCLAIMER:

In the movie The Crazies, their catch phrase is: "Fear thy neighbor." But for this, it's: "Fear thy REDHEAD." Wow, I'm sooo lame. (Sigh)

The 15 Reasons To Be Scared Of Gwen

Reason #1: Hairbrush Murderer.

Nobody's POV:

Gwen just couldn't take this cruelty.

Every time she ran the cursed hairbrush through her long, orange mane and pulled it away to look at it, she'd be staring down at a sea of red. All that her emerald gaze would be able to see would be the poor, innocent hair that had been ripped right out of her scalp with a painful, stinging sensation.

And the girl was entirely fuming with rage. The hairbrush was evil; taking her silky hair strands away, and, yank by yank, bringing her closer to being completely, flipping bald.

Gwen didn't even have any snarls in her hair that her brush could possibly stumble over! Not a rat's nest, not a wad of gum that Ben stuck in her hair, not anything. Her hair was perfect; a gorgeous river of shimmering scarlet tendrils that swooped straight down to the small of her back.

And Gwen's hairbrush? Pfft, a cruddy chunk of magenta plastic that she had bought at Target for ninety nine cents. Worse, it wasn't even worth that ninety nine cents. It didn't even come close to having any of the qualities that her hair rightfully deserved! It was dishonorable.

It was a disgrace to the world of cosmetic items.

Her green eyes filling with distaste and anger, the red-head glared down at the device, her stare screaming "mutiny". No longer would she have to put up with this trashy item. No longer would she let it claw at her scalp. No longer would she let it rip out her hair strands...

This meant war.

Gaze narrowing, Gwen held the device straight out over one knee, and in one quick, little movement, she brought it right down on that knee, desperate to snap it in half.

The scarlet-haired girl growled; it hadn't worked. Because there was the brush, whole, in her white-knuckled, clenched fists. Gwen felt the blood in her veins begin to churn. So, the hairbrush company couldn't make a brush that could actually brush hair, but they could make one that was teenage-anodite resistant?

She needed a new strategy.

Gritting her teeth, Gwen lifted up the worthless tool, proceeding then to surround it in her bright, fuchsia mana, and to chuck it right down through the floorboards with all the power she could muster.

Which was a crap-load of power.

…...

Meanwhile, Ben, who had been invited over his cousin's house for the weekend, was downstairs sitting at the kitchen table, happily enjoying his fourth bowl of yummy Captain Crunch cereal while Lily Tennyson stared at him with utmost shock from across the table. Never had she seen anyone eat cereal with such thorough aggression as her nephew. Ben was chomping it all down; spoonful by spoonful, like a starved, rabid animal. Lily was lucky if she could even get Gwen to eat breakfast, and now Ben was consuming more food for breakfast than her daughter ate in a whole day! The weary woman sighed, seriously beginning to question the quantity of food her sister-in-law was feeding the boy...

Suddenly and out of the blue, a loud crash sounded from above their heads, seeming much like the noise a hairbrush or something would make if it smashed down through the floorboards.

And that's exactly what it was.

Lily glanced up in horror as a bright purple hairbrush came hurtling out of a newly-created crater in the ceiling, smacked down on Ben's head, which, caused him to go flying out of his seat and collapse on the tiled floor below, his bowl of Captain Crunch and everything else occupying a spot on the table flinging up off its surface, soaring though the air, and finally exploding and shattering against the refrigerator as the teen pulled the table cloth down with him.

Once the epidemic was all over, the woman found herself shaking, her arms held high above her head as a weak source of protection for any stray shards of glass.

Lily's kitchen was a disaster. The floor was covered with broken pottery, milk, utensils, and cereal. In fact, her eyes couldn't even find the actual tiles of the kitchen floor. And in the middle of all this mass destruction, there was Ben, his body completely mummified by the table cloth as he laid there in an ocean of milk and little, yellow Captain Crunch balls.

Terrified, Lily stared up at the giant hole above her nephew, her green eyes scanning the area for any possible life-threatening dangers, such as a Wii remote wrongly-placed in the hands of her husband.

Instead, she found Gwen, her beautiful, perfect daughter peering down through the gap with a mixture of sheer anger and embarrassment scribbled all over her face.

"Hey mom, could you get me a new hairbrush?" The teen inquired like nothing at all strange had just happened, her emerald orbs searching her mother's frightened face for an answer.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ENDING:

Scared of red-heads yet, or maybe JUST Gwen? Review and let me know! ;) Kay, I'm outta here. Hasta Luego!