A/N: Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Maximum Ride characters. That was James Patterson's mishap.

I had to add a drunk Jeb in there because, what good cliché maximum ride story doesn't have an abusive father in the mix?

I have no proper excuses for my tardiness. Just read already…

Max POV

I felt so depressed today. I didn't have the time to annihilate as many guys as I had wanted. I only had the chance to beat up five guys after gym class and I hung one by his underpants on the statue of a chinchilla in front of the high school. Reminds me of the cheer at our school:

Scurry and scamper,

Run and hide.

Nibble their thumbs,

And hope they die!

Yeah, that put a smile on my face at the moment. I almost wet my pants from laughing so hard when the student body shouted that at the two minute pep rally this afternoon. It was probably the dumbest thing I had ever heard. Those dumb cheerleading bimbos,

I COULD KICK THEIR ASSES!

Anyway, I opened the door to my home and the strong stench of alcohol invaded my nose. I rolled my eyes. I should already expect…

My father, Jeb, was sprawled across the couch in a seemingly uncomfortable position. One hand was stretched out toward the ground, holding a sloshing beer bottle. His other hand was holding a pickle. His eyes were bloodshot. They were wide open and glazing blankly into space. His jaw remained slack and a fly circled his drunken face with his ugly stubble. I knew that this would probably be the case when I got home. At my previous house and school, my father had done the exact same thing.

I walked over to him and slapped him in the face. He stuttered in his sleep for a second but then continued snoring. I snarled and knocked his head in with my geometry textbook. He jumped into a sitting position and threw a drunken punch in front of him.

"Dad, you really need to stop drinking!" I shouted in his shocked face. He tried to find my eyes, but was only capable of staring at my chin with his drooping peepers.

"I swear to drunk, I'm not God, you meanie head!" he said indignantly, his disgusting breath making me flinch. He then tried to nail me in the nose but his arm fell and he fell asleep, again. I repeatedly slapped his face, and he stood up in a drunken stupor. I heard his beer bottle smash on the ground.

"You stupid weirdo, I'm gonna beat the living pineapple of desert…" He started to nod off again, so I kneed him in the shin. He woke up once again and jerked his arm in my direction and ended up using that momentum to shove his face into the wall, accidentally of course. He rubbed his unshaven face and glared at me, his eyes a dangerous purple color, with a tint of goldilocks gold. Er, anyway…

I backed up into the kitchen and he followed, stumbling over random items on the floor. I choked on my own spit in order to keep in my laughter. It was funny how he tried to be the typical drunk abusive father, and how I'm all tough because he abused me as a child and in the present. But the truth is, he's super drunk all the time, too drunk to make any good moves on me. Usually, these occurrences end with him gagged and tied to the oven. Yeah, he's just that drunk. Major hangovers after that.

Jeb grumbled a bit and then kicked one of the cabinets. While he was holding his hurt foot in agony, he fell forward from his unbalance on his left foot and his entire head smashed into the oven. Pieces of glass tinkled down his back and onto the floor. He groaned and started to snore. I shrugged my shoulders and left the kitchen.

&^*%#$

I was busy in my room sharpening my teeth with a pencil sharpener when the door burst open and my irritating little sister, Ella, smiled her annoying smile and walked into the room. It's funny that she looks so Mexican. My mother is Asian with a slight Netherlandish accent and my father is from Alaska and his parents grew up in the slums of India. Where did that Mexican blood come from? Then again, we did find her as an infant for the first time in our mailbox with a note attached to her head saying:

I open at the close.

I'm not sure what the hell that was supposed to mean but it sounded suspiciously like something from "Twilight". I like the possibility of my sister being a vampire.

Anywho, she disturbed my "trying to be an imitation of herself" session and she took the pencil sharpener away. She grabbed my arms and led me down to the kitchen. She positioned me on one of the stools and reached over my father's sleeping form inside the oven, snatching her make-up kit. She was really wanted for her make-up styling by the movie industry. They wanted to make a movie about someone with such a horrible make-up job that the heroine's eyes melted. Ella accepted the job proposition.

I COULD KICK HER ASS!

"What are you doing?" I asked her curiously. I was very frightened by how she might answer this.

"I am going to give you a makeover," she said with an attractive spasm of her hip, dropping most of her supplies. She was just that alluring.

I struggled to get out of the stool, but I was pushed so far into the counter it was hard for me to remove myself from the room. "I don't want a makeover! I'm as dirty as I can get! Stop bugging me about my lack of germs!" I shouted indignantly to her statement.

Ella smiled maliciously and pinched my nose. I was forced to breathe from my mouth. I hated it when she did that! It infuriated me so!

She then released her grip on my nostrils and ran across the room to the fire extinguisher. Breaking the glass, she took it out and swung it like nun-chucks. I grimaced, knowing what she was about to do. We went through this every Monday afternoon. Right on schedule.

She swung the extinguisher hard onto my head. Before I blacked out, I saw the color of the rainbow and a beautiful brown color that reminded me of mud. A frog with wings flew across my vision, shouting, "I would like to see my lawyer about this, Sugarfly!" Grinning at this amphibian's connections to divorce attorneys, I eased away from my painful existence as if I had fallen asleep.

I COULD KICK THE FROG'S….

A/N: Sorry about updating so late. If you are majorly confused about this chapter, I am thoroughly regretful… Just kidding! I just wanted to act like a mild Lewis Carrol for a change. If you hadn't noticed, there is a big Harry Potter reference in there, for viewers who have not read that series. I've just been very obsessed since I went to Harry Potter world in Florida, US with some of my fellow Brasilians. Cute American guys there, NOT!