Hey all!
Disclaimer:
Last night I was watchin' porno for pyros with someone. We had some gin roses, and things proceded to the sex pistols, and now I have the clash. In other words, I'm making fun of band names. And I own nothing.
inspriration in a can. Rogue, bedroom, aggravated. (I think I can do this one.)
***
Rogue sat on her bed, trying to block out the Backstreet Boys and finsh her pre-calculus homework so that the teacher wouldn't call for her head on a stick. He was the only teacher at school who didn't act any nastier to her now. It was humanly impossible for him to show more contempt for any of his students.
[What a comforting thought] Rogue mused, as she pulled out her trigonometry chart. Kitty was across the room, singing 'Hey Mr. DJ' and playing with her webpage. She wasn't blatantly ignoring Rogue as much as really not caring how much Rogue hated boy bands. If it bothered her that much, Rogue knew where the door was, and could use it.
Rogue had forgotten about her trig chart and was now glaring at Kitty. It wasn't fair that the Professor had put her with Little Mary Sunshine. Rogue wished desperatly, for the hundreth time that day that Kitty would choke on her gum and die. It wasn't very nice, but then again, why should it be nice? Rogue was pissed off, and saw no reason to apologize for it.
The song ended and Rogue stood up in trumph. Kitty groaned. Rogue ran over to her stereo and cranked up Garbage's 'Stupid Girl'.
Now it was Kitty's turn to be mad. [God, could this song be any louder? I didn't have my music up this loud. I CAN'T THINK!] Kitty savagley hit the enter button on her keyboard, loading her webpage in a pretty blue color. It was mainly song lyrics. The irony was really starting to get to Kitty.
Just when Kitty was about to throw her laptop at Rogue, and hopefully knock her roommate out long enought to burn all her CDs, the song ended. Kitty ran over to her stereo, jubilant. She turned on Christina Aguilera's 'Beautiful' and happily began looking at more song lyrics.
Rogue gritted her teeth. She could handle this. Compared to Trask, and the BoM and the medlab this was nothing. Nothing at all. Kitty's music couldn't bother her unless Rogue let it. This worked for all of two seconds. Then Rogue wondered where a phone book was. She'd shred the damned thing, and then burn Kitty's half of the room down to the ceiling of the rec. room. After an excruciating few minutes, in which Rogue imagined several painful and creative deaths for Kitty, Christina's voice faded out, and Kitty was finally at Rogue's mercy. With a sadistic look, Rogue went over to her CD collection and pulled out Limp Bizkit's 'Break Stuff'. Not exactly goth or punk, but effective none the less.
Kitty cringed at the choice. Rogue would pay for this one. Both had given up all pretense of actually doing something else, and were staring at each other. Neither one said a thing until Limp Bizkit finished their tirade. Kitty gleefully got up, and rant to her CD collection, pulling out Cindi Lauper, while Rogue began searching for Marilyn Manson.
Scott stood in the hall outside the door, pounding on the poor wooden barriere. Jean walked up behind him. "You know, I thought You'd figure out to wait untilthey finished these things. It'll lower your blood pressure. It's not like it doesn't happen every day." Scott sighed; this was true.
***
Hope you enjoyed!
REVIEW!
Peace and Love,
Panther Nesmith
Disclaimer:
Last night I was watchin' porno for pyros with someone. We had some gin roses, and things proceded to the sex pistols, and now I have the clash. In other words, I'm making fun of band names. And I own nothing.
inspriration in a can. Rogue, bedroom, aggravated. (I think I can do this one.)
***
Rogue sat on her bed, trying to block out the Backstreet Boys and finsh her pre-calculus homework so that the teacher wouldn't call for her head on a stick. He was the only teacher at school who didn't act any nastier to her now. It was humanly impossible for him to show more contempt for any of his students.
[What a comforting thought] Rogue mused, as she pulled out her trigonometry chart. Kitty was across the room, singing 'Hey Mr. DJ' and playing with her webpage. She wasn't blatantly ignoring Rogue as much as really not caring how much Rogue hated boy bands. If it bothered her that much, Rogue knew where the door was, and could use it.
Rogue had forgotten about her trig chart and was now glaring at Kitty. It wasn't fair that the Professor had put her with Little Mary Sunshine. Rogue wished desperatly, for the hundreth time that day that Kitty would choke on her gum and die. It wasn't very nice, but then again, why should it be nice? Rogue was pissed off, and saw no reason to apologize for it.
The song ended and Rogue stood up in trumph. Kitty groaned. Rogue ran over to her stereo and cranked up Garbage's 'Stupid Girl'.
Now it was Kitty's turn to be mad. [God, could this song be any louder? I didn't have my music up this loud. I CAN'T THINK!] Kitty savagley hit the enter button on her keyboard, loading her webpage in a pretty blue color. It was mainly song lyrics. The irony was really starting to get to Kitty.
Just when Kitty was about to throw her laptop at Rogue, and hopefully knock her roommate out long enought to burn all her CDs, the song ended. Kitty ran over to her stereo, jubilant. She turned on Christina Aguilera's 'Beautiful' and happily began looking at more song lyrics.
Rogue gritted her teeth. She could handle this. Compared to Trask, and the BoM and the medlab this was nothing. Nothing at all. Kitty's music couldn't bother her unless Rogue let it. This worked for all of two seconds. Then Rogue wondered where a phone book was. She'd shred the damned thing, and then burn Kitty's half of the room down to the ceiling of the rec. room. After an excruciating few minutes, in which Rogue imagined several painful and creative deaths for Kitty, Christina's voice faded out, and Kitty was finally at Rogue's mercy. With a sadistic look, Rogue went over to her CD collection and pulled out Limp Bizkit's 'Break Stuff'. Not exactly goth or punk, but effective none the less.
Kitty cringed at the choice. Rogue would pay for this one. Both had given up all pretense of actually doing something else, and were staring at each other. Neither one said a thing until Limp Bizkit finished their tirade. Kitty gleefully got up, and rant to her CD collection, pulling out Cindi Lauper, while Rogue began searching for Marilyn Manson.
Scott stood in the hall outside the door, pounding on the poor wooden barriere. Jean walked up behind him. "You know, I thought You'd figure out to wait untilthey finished these things. It'll lower your blood pressure. It's not like it doesn't happen every day." Scott sighed; this was true.
***
Hope you enjoyed!
REVIEW!
Peace and Love,
Panther Nesmith