"So…." Buruma shifted her weight uneasily, picking at her worn nail polish. She'd had nothing to do all week but apply the stuff, then scratch it off and then re-apply it repeatedly. Nervous habit, and with no school she could wear all the nail polish she wanted. She gazed around the room, searching anxiously for something to strike up a conversation about. "Uh… what are you reading?" she enquired, her eyes coming to rest on the book sitting on the bed beside Bejita. He didn't answer her so she stood up and walked over, picking it up and taking it back to her seat, noting the way Bejita's eyebrow twitched when he was annoyed.

She had to open the book to find the title; it had obviously had a dust jacket at some point. She snorted out loud. "Gulliver's Travels? What are you, 12?"

His scowl deepened "It's for school, and I'll have you know it's a very clever political satire." Buruma pursed her lips.

"It so is not. It's a story about a guy who goes travelling and he meets tiny people and stuff." When he smirked contemptuously she knew she'd said the wrong thing.

"So, why exactly did they move you up a year level? Judging by that last comment, it couldn't possibly be for your intelligence." She mumbled something incomprehensible under her breath and he sneered, "What was that? I can't hear you."

"I'm not a literary sort of a person you fuck. I'm a scientist, with a flair for math as well. Don't look at me like that! I admit, I'm not so great at English but it is my second language." She folded her arms across her chest and frowned. "Let's change the topic."

They both fell silent for a while, Buruma again trying to think of a point of discussion, and Bejita off having a jolly good time in that fun little land that you find yourself in when you have a migraine. ((Note my sarcasm. Migraines should die.))

"You threw a brick at my head." Actually, Buruma had only been half expecting that comment. She'd been all prepared for that when she'd first come in, but after their little discussion about how oblivious she was to the socio-political contexts of literary classics it had all but slipped her mind.

"I, uh… uhm… well, it wasn't a whole brick… just a bit of one, and I can't really throw that great. I didn't even think it would hit you and-"

"You. Threw. A. Brick. Into. My. Head. You're lucky my mother's such a fucking bleeding heart, or we'd be suing. And aren't you even going to say sorry? Just going to sit there making excuses?" Of course, if he'd thrown a brick into her head he wouldn't have apologised, but that was beside the point. It wasn't a matter of his moral integrity, but rather a matter of someone actually having the nerve to lob heavy objects at him. This had never happened before, and was sure to damage his reputation as a Person Whom One Does Not Throw Stuff At.

"Well, SOR-RYYY Mr. I Can Intimidate People Whenever I Like And Not Expect Them To Fight Back Because I'm Such An Almighty Arsehole. But you know what? I haven't had such a lovely week either, you know. In fact, I think I might have preferred being swathed in bandages and having people dote on me to the week I've had, which has involved losing all my friends, getting in a lot of trouble, feeling sorry for myself, and generally being hated by everything and everyone."

He raised an eyebrow in that insanely contemptuous, irritatingly sexy manner of his and then pushed out his bottom lip in a mock pout. "I feel for you, I really do. I don't know how you survive, having such a hard life as yours. I'm sure I would just die if I had to live in your place."

Unfortunately, Buruma was better at equations than comebacks, and was reduced to scrunching up her face and poking out her tongue. This did not improve the view Bejita held of her intelligence. "Why do you have to be so mean to everyone? It doesn't make people like you, you know."

"I need to keep people from making me feel fulfilled, so that I can die a bitter old man and then wreak vengeance on assorted people from the afterlife. I'm quite looking forward to being invisible." It was quite obvious no real answer would be forced from the obstinate teenager sitting opposite her, so Buruma picked at a thread on the hem of her shirt until the door creaked slowly open.

Turning in her seat, Buruma was faced with Bejita's mother, who smiled at her and asked if the two of them would like to come down for something to eat, as Aaron had arrived home and her husband had gone off somewhere. The older woman was vague on the specifics of his outing.

Buruma, of course, was understandably keen to see Aaron, who made for much more willing eye candy than his brother, although he generally didn't have that specific smouldering look she so enjoyed.

And then there was much sleepiness, and it all cut to another scene because brain not sense now making things strange.

And then there was remembering that the plot of the story had been forgotten. At this point, there was much reading of one's own story. There was much criticism and hatred and wanting to stop writing story. There was also much boredom and story continued.

Much Hate says:

Fuck her. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. She can just go get fucked.

Police Cake!! says:

Juu, maybe you're over-reacting.

Much Hate says:

She can just go get fucked. Of course, that's probably what she's doing. Going and getting fucked with her stupid little dickhead year 11 fuckwit boyfriend. I hope she gets fucking arrested.

Police Cake!! says:

Juu, he's not her boyfriend. Somehow I doubt she's sleeping with him. Anyway, I'm sure she didn't mean to be all ucky at the funeral. She's pretty caught up in her own little world at the moment. She's not being a great friend, but I don't think you should be quite so mad as you are now.

Much Hate says:

ARGH! Why don't you go get fucked too. I'm sure Goku's around somewhere. I'm going.

Much Hate has signed off

Chichi gave an exasperated sigh and slumped down in her chair sulkily. Buruma had been a not very nifty friend to Juu lately, but Juu was responding far too harshly. In her opinion, they both just needed some time to themselves. Of course, that left her alone too, but it was a small price to pay if she ever wanted her friends to be, well, friends again.

She wondered, now, if maybe Juu was right, and Buruma was slowly working her way up to becoming Bejita's girlfriend. She could be like that. All sly and manipulative and rather scary. She didn't actually know Bejita at all. She'd met his brother, though, and he seemed nice, if perhaps a little gay. She wondered if maybe Bejita was gay. Gay guys were so nice, it was easy to fall for them before you realised they were gay, and then be left with a broken heart. But then, Buruma wasn't really the type to fall for a gay guy. She liked her guys all mean and drowning in leather. That sounded really wrong, and Chichi giggled slightly, promptly changing her screen name to 'mean and drowning in leather'. She had a sudden image of Buruma dressed to the teeth in leather whore-ness and shuddered slightly. Undoubtedly, Buruma was going to get mixed up with the wrong sort of guy and end up a drug-addicted prostitute gambler who was forced to hack off people's fingers for an extortion gang in order to survive. And when she died of AIDS/drug overdose/loss of fingers/all of the above everyone would say it was such a pity she liked her men mean and drowning in leather. Chichi would rather like to do the eulogy. She was a good little preacher, always telling people what they should be doing, and what was wrong with what they were currently doing. So it would be a good opportunity to tell everyone what a bad idea Bejita was.

Sitting up straighter, she came to the realisation that firstly, she didn't actually know anything at all about Bejita and secondly, many people were trying to chat with her.

And I think it was Professor Plum, in the sunroom with the…. Rope! With the rope." Goku rubbed his hands together with glee as Kuririn transported the small purple lump of plastic that was the professor into the sunroom.

Raditz rolled his eyes. "NO. Look, it was not Professor Plum with the rope, no matter how many rooms you try it in. Just stop." Goku looked up at his older brother with woefully large eyes.

"But look at him. He's so obviously evil, just plotting away, looking all purple."

"Goku, I'm going to agree with Raditz here. No matter how evil you may think the plastic chess piece thing looks, it was not Professor Plum. Besides, Professor Plum can't remember anything, if he wanted to kill someone he'd probably just forget once he got in the same room as them. Now, Colonel Mustard, there's a nasty person." Kuririn glared menacingly at the Colonel Mustard card in his hand.

"Personally," chimed in Raditz, "I think Miss Scarlet is the most dangerous of them all. She's got that whole femme fatale thing going on. One minute she's seducing you, the next she's holding the knife that's sticking out of your chest. Miss Scarlet in the Hall with the Knife."

There was an extended pause before Goku informed him of his wrong decision. Kuririn rolled and moved around in a corridor and Goku proclaimed that it was Professor Plum in the sunroom with the lead pipe, inducing a load groan from his two fellow players, especially Raditz who held the Professor Plum card. He didn't even know why he bothered to play Cluedo with his brother. It was always the same routine with Professor Plum. And he was always Mr. Green. Raditz liked to be Colonel Mustard and Kuririn generally just went with one of the women, as to pick Professor Plum meant to be spirited away to wherever on the board Goku wished to teleport him. I like Cluedo. It's very fun and Miss Scarlet is my favourite. I don't want to write this story right now, and I'm sure that cluedo bit there was going to go somewhere, but I can't be bothered taking it. What a pity. REVIEW ME!!! REVIIIIIIIEEEEEEEWWWWWWW!!!!! Even if it's a "haha u sux so bad I fukin h8 u u faget bich" I DO NOT CARE JUST REVIEW ME. (I must admit though, I will laugh at you if you try to insult me in the manner of the example. How do people spell like that? I mean really, it's just vomit-inducing.)