Finally, after decades of not knowing what to write for the You're On Your Way sequel, I came up with this. Title is sort of self-explanatory. Read and review?
"I'm hungry," Kurt whined. "Do you think this place has some good food?"
"Come on, Kurt," Rachel reminded him. "This place has bajillions of Jacuzzis and ice sculptures. It would be just plain stupid if after all that luxury, we'd be getting lame food."
"I'd call the manager and tell him to bring Santana back to Ohio," Quinn added. Santana smiled. "You wouldn't dare!"
"In all seriousness, the last thing I'd need is my 48-year-old uncle yelling at my mama and papa," Santana explained. "They'd never been in good terms anyway. But my uncle loves me."
"What time is it, Kurt?" Quinn asked. Kurt looked at his newly-bought black watch from the Lopez Adjacent Gift Shop. "It's um, 11:07 pm."
"Hey, where'd you get that watch?" Santana asked nervously. "Uh, the shop," he replied, pointing to the direction of their gift shop. Santana fidgeted. "Let me guess, the bill's under my family's name."
"Well, I guess," Kurt shrugged. "That Pedro guy didn't charge me anything. Quinn and I kept grabbing stuff in that store. It's not every single day you get to shop for free, right Quinn?" Quinn nodded in agreement, flashing her newly-bought jewelry.
Santana didn't respond but instead ran to the big glass window of the room. Then she sighed in relief. "I don't see any guards coming yet, but you guys really need to be more careful about buying worthless stuff in my uncle's shop. You see, Pedro is giving to almost anyone, but not Uncle Perero. So please be careful."
"Things could really get messy if your uncle finds out!" Rachel said.
"Why don't we sleep already?" Finn suggested. "I mean... we have a lot of things to do tomorrow." "Finn's right," agreed Rachel. Tomorrow was bound to be a heavy day.
The very first thing that Finn, Rachel, Quinn, Kurt and Santana heard the next day was terrible singing accompanied with booming sounds.
"What was that awful noise?" Rachel whined, rubbing her ears. It hurt very much, considering her ears were very sensitive to terrible singing.
"Don't you mean awesome?"
Sugar Motta strutted in the room with Rory Flanagan, her once-boyfriend-turned-sort-of-bodyguard. Rory had a sad expression written on his face. He'd signed up to be the deluded heiress's date, not pet. He was carrying four very heavy bags, and worse, had to put up with Sugar's endless singing.
"Hey, aren't you Sugar Motta?"
I'm sorry if none of the things in my story makes sense. Yeah, I've been a little down since getting that bad review. But I knew that the reviewer meant well, but you know me, trying to please everyone. Anyway, I've been trying to improve, and I hope you still enjoy this even though it's really silly.
Review...
