Prompt: Send in (mouthless emoji) + a word for a short drabble, headcanon, or one-shot written in first person based on that word.
Takes place during "The List"
"Did anything exciting happen at school today, Stanley?"
I rolled my eyes at my mom's words, pretending that it didn't bother me that she only addressed the turd, as if I wasn't sitting right there too.
"The girls made this list and I was named the third cutest boy in the fourth grade."
I nearly choked on my mashed potatoes.
"Well done, Stanley!" my dad congratulated. Mom kept insisting that her little man deserved to be on the top of the list.
I could only see red. I didn't know whether to cry, throw up, or flip the dining room table over.
This was the last fucking straw. The turd was Mom and Dad's favorite. Grandpa and Uncle Jimbo constantly fawned over him. He was the best player on a shitty football team, but the entire stupid town hailed him as the next coming of Tom fucking Brady just because he sucked slightly less than his turd friends. Speaking of turd friends, he had way more than I did. Everybody worshipped him.
And now he was being praised for his looks while I was stuck looking like a sideshow freak in the circus. It was too much.
I hoped that puberty would hit the turd like a ton of bricks. I wished that he would have such a bad overbite that he would need to wear headgear until he was twenty one. I wanted to see the turd covered from head to toe in oozing, crusty zits.
I scowled at Stan as hard as I could.
He was so getting his ass kicked tonight.
The author agrees with Shelly about Stan's football skills. I said what I said!