wooooooooooo! new chappie! on mine and myas birthday! Sweet 15!

9:30 a.m

"Frankie is one smart kid. When he noticed Nate in the kitchen this morning, he ran to me.

"GET THE FIRE EXSTINGUSHER LENA!"

I could learn to like this kid.

9:34 a.m.

Frankie and I walked downstairs to the kitchen. Frankie was holding with the fire extinguisher.

Nate was at the stove.

"You know Nate, you should really stop cooking," I said opening the fridge to get the orange juice.

"Why," Nate snapped.

"Hello, do you not see the poor child that is armed with an extinguisher," I replied.

"Oh come on I don't set everything on fire," he defended.

"Oh that's true, you just do it a majority of the time,"

"Get the hell out of my kitchen," He yelled.

"I don't have to, I live here," I smirked.

"Well if you want food tonight, leave," he shot back.

You can't argue with food, now can you?

"Come on Frankie, let's leave the Mrs. to her cooking," I dragged Frankie out of the kitchen slamming the door on my way.

"I really hate you Lena," Nate yelled.

"Love ya too,"

10:46 a.m.

Okay, Nate has finally left the kitchen, thus the turkey is in the oven.

Now commence operation: NFLTKSISFTTTTUSTTCBATNGG!

In other words: Operation: Nate Finally Left The Kitchen So I Will Send Frankie To Turn The Thermostat Up So The Turkey Can Burn And Then Nate Gets Grounded.

Ok. So maybe I'm not that great at creating mission names, but that is way besides the point.

"Ok, so do you know what to do?" I asked Frankie.

"For the gajillionth time, yes Lena," he replied rather annoyed.

"Walk me through the plan," I demanded.

"Walk through the door, check if Nate has left, which he already has, walk to the oven, turn the dial all the way up, allowing the turkey to burn, then Jason will get mad at Nate and he will get grounded," he answered.

"I'm so proud!" I said embracing him.

"Now go, go, go!" I pushed Frankie past the kitchen door.

10:48 a.m.

Frankie came out the kitchen door, panting like crazy.

"Mission Complete," he said dropping to his knees, "I was awful Lena, everything was armed, they wanted to get me, they wanted to get me and kill me,"

I rolled my eyes.

"Frankie, you went into the kitchen, not a battle ground,"

"I was almost attacked!" he screamed.

"By what? Knives, no the forks, no the whisk!"

11:00 a.m

BEEEEPBEEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!

"Jason, fire alarms going off!" Shane called from his room.

And then…pandemonium….from the PMS'ers side, anyway.

"GET FRANKIE OUT! CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT! WHAT'S BURNING?!!!!"

And then…

A scream of pure horror.

"THE BIRD!!!!!!"

I have to admit, I felt sort of sorry for Nate…all the work he'd done, gone to waste.

But then I saw his face when he dashed into the kitchen, and started coughing from all the smoke.

I laid down…and died.

Of laughter.

He ignored me.

"FRANKIE! WHERE'S THE EXSTINGUISHER?!!"

"I gots it. Don't worry."

11:30

"Nathaniel Andrew Gray…" Jason seethed through his tightly clenched teeth. "Look. What. You. Did."

"But I…I put it to the right temperature…I swear!" Nate cowered under his older brothers look. "I double checked! I triple checked!"

"Well, obviously, that wasn't the right temperature…wasn't it?"

They both then glanced at the dial.

Uh…oh…

Time to run.

11:45

Turns out, Frankie's a faster runner than I thought. He kept the pace with me.

For a time.

11:53

"LEANNA GRACE GRAY!"

12:00

I'm dead.

12:30

Dammit. Do I always have to get in trouble?

Jason's gone for another bird. Shane is helping Nate clean up.

Jason sentenced me and Frankie for ground-ation. We're now currently stuck in my room.

"Lena? I don't like this."

"Me, either, kid.

Me either."

4:50

Birds done.

Time for Frankie's first Thanksgiving in America.

They don't have it down south, apparently.

Jason says it's an only American holiday.

How the hell should I know? I don't pay attention in history…

I sleep.

5:00

Well...turns out if you attempt to ruin a holiday, you miss out on dessert.

That pumpkin pie is going to mock me all…night…

5:56 p.m.

Once Frankie and I were done with dinner Jason sent us back up stairs to serve the rest of our "sentence".

6:00 p.m.

This sucks majorly.

We were about half way up the stairs when Jason told Frankie that he didn't have to serve anymore.

He better not get any pie!

11:46 p.m.

I tip-toed past Jason's room, then pressed my ear to Nate's door.

He was asleep. And snoring rather loudly. It sounded like something was dying.

11:52 p.m.

I quietly snuck downstairs to get some pie…

To discover Frankie sitting on the counter, already going at it.

"Give me some!" I begged.

Frankie shook his head, still chewing, holding a fork and the pie pan.

"You got me in trouble."

"But I…I…please?"

"Well…."

"PLEASE?! I'm begging here!"

"Fine. You can finish it. Jason already gave me some earlier""

He jumped off the counter and left.

I looked at the pie pan.

A crust…and about a dollar-sized piece of actual pie left.

I hate that kid.

Angie- Happy Birthday to me! Reviews will surprise me! REVIEW!

Alyssa- I'm all depressed. make me feel better by reviewing your pants off...

Mya- I kinda just sat beside angie and gave some ideas. REVIEW!