Okay, okay. Updates are getting pretty bad on this.. I've been procrastinating. But oh my god, listen to this dream… No, this horrible nightmare I had.
Okay. It rained a lot today, rain makes me sleepy, etc. So I took a nap.
A nap…
OF DEATH.
I dreamed I… I… -clutches heart- Deflowered a Jonas brother.
OH MY GOD. It wasn't realistic, (THANK YOU GOD) But I got the idea that's what I did. I know I did. The odd thing my and his clothes were on. What the hell?
I woke up and contemplated ending my life.
HAHAHAHAHA!!
But anyway, weird news? The Jonas Brothers are actually moving to my town. NO WAI, RIGHT? Yes, way. The richer side of my tiny town in Texas, mind you, but they're going to be there.
I'm sickened.
I hope to god my dream doesn't become reality.
DISCLAIMER! I DON'T OWN THE DARK KNIGHT!
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I gazed upon the many rows of vials, smiling to myself. Because frowning causes wrinkles, and I can't have that. The signs in the science room told me to keep my hands, eyes, legs, feet and other assorted vital parts of my body but I always have to have skin showing so to hell with safety precautions.
I invented science.
We trained scientists don't need your silly rules.
I rolled up my tiny black mini-skirt, making sure there was no way I could trip and hurt myself. Or risk falling into a vat of explosive chemicals. Or spill coffee on my delicate, perfect, creamy white skin.
Or other things that could jeopardize my appearance.
My mission and reason for entering this place of random deadly chemicals that could destroy the world that were free for any civilian to use as they pleased?
To kill every single girl in the world.
Even the unborn ones.
Because I'm good like that.
Mixing thousands of chemicals and making sure everything was just right to throw into the water system of Gotham, I smiled and patted my head gingerly.
Damn I'm smart.
I stirred the liquid slowly, disturbing vats of gas creeping from it. It would probably give me horrible medical problems when I'm older, but I'll be ugly then so I don't really care. Life will have no purpose.
Finally finishing my poisonous concoction, I stopped. Could I really do this? Could I really murder billions and billions of girls just for my own selfish reasons? Should I feel so happy about taking my sister's life, my own flesh and blood.. Well, not exactly my own flesh and blood. I happen to know for a fact mine is much more superior than hers could ever be.
Giggling to myself, I made billions of copies that I dumped into the water supply.
Actually, I just drained them down the sink because I have no idea where to find out where the main supply of water for the city was. Tossing a vacation brochure aside that read 'All important sites of the city that could devastate everyone by dumping poisonous chemicals in, tours', I smiled.
Yes, my plan was going into action.
Now all I had to do was contact A-Wizzle, and all would be accounted for.
Walking outside on the street, careful to pass by any women that were slightly bigger than me who's husbands couldn't keep their eyes astray, I entered the library of Gotham.
Smiling, I walked over to the communications side of the library. For a moment, I wondered why devices you could use to talk to people could be found in a library, but I shrugged it off. The librarian clearly made a pass at me, asking me if I'd like to know where the romance novels were.
Silly librarian.
Entering the phone booth, I looked around to make sure it was safe. Somebody was going to try to rape me in this secluded part of the library.
I just knew it.
"Rape, rape, rape.." A middle-aged man said, sniffing around the floor for any beautiful girls, like myself.
Billions followed him, carrying torches and pitchforks.
Gotham was a dangerous town.
And I was going to call the man that made it… Dangerous-er.
"Yo A-Wizzle!" I said into the phone. I hadn't actually dialed anything, but the telephone knew I was insanely beautiful so it dialed him for me.
"Wassup bitch!" The familiar, loving voice answered. "Where my money?"
Hahaha, he had mistaken me for one of his ho's! I laughed silently to myself. Honestly, who could ever mistake me for a ho? Looking down at my current attire of stilettos, a tiny skirt, and dish rags that I fashioned into a very small tank-top.
I'm poor you know.
"I need you to drop chemicals to kill every female in the world!" I whispered into the phone.
"What?"
"I need you to drop chemicals to kill every female in the world!" I repeated.
"WHAT!"
"I need you to drop chemicals to kill every female in the world!" I screeched, the glass in the phone booth breaking from the sheer harmony of my voice.
People kind of stared, then smiled.
"Hey Mary-Sue! Plotting death to every female in the world I see. We love ya, kid!" A man chuckled, holding his wife and newborn baby daughter.
Imma call her Poohead.
"I understand what you're saying, I just can't believe you'd ask me to do it. I'm going to need a lot of the stuff, you know."
I nodded.
"You know.. The stuff?"
"Yeah. The stuff."
"Jellybeans."
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