CHAPTA TREE
Author's Note: twilite is da best book evahhhhh and yes i'm sober wot are you saying m8
"Hey," my husband Jakub told me, "I'm pregnant." I slapped him heartily. "You really think I'm that gullible? I have the mind of a prep, man!" He shot me a look of contempt. "No, I'm not kidding this time. Seriously, you can check it out." I scanned his entire body for any signs of dishonesty. Starting at the bottom, my eyes drifted upwards from his hot pink high heels up to his Abercrombie & Fitch polo shirt, then to his fluorescent orange lipstick and his blonde hair, which was tied up in a bun on his head, but I found no reason to believe he was lying this time. And I did see a large bulge under that polo shirt, and something told me that overeating couldn't bring that big of a lump.
Shocked, I stood up from my desk in horror. "But it's a gay pregnancy! Won't the baby be deformed or something?" How much trouble could this bring us? Would the baby be able to breastfeed on Jakub? How would we get the money to feed the baby and buy our daily prep clothing from Cold Topik? And how could a pregnancy resulting from a gay couple just sprung up out of nowhere without warning? I started to rub his tummy in concern.
"Well, scientists have just experimented with two same-sex mice and produced a normal baby. It'll turn out fine, honey." We had taken to calling each other "bby" and "honey" these days. Obviously our relationship had improved greatly from the time I raped him in the alley next to Hawt Topik. Three years was a length of time that lots of change could occur, though, so nobody was surprised. But in the span of a single day, Jakub had gained a pregnancy!
"But," I protested. "How will we even earn money to feed ourselves? We both have jobs as rapists, but since nobody ever thinks we're sexah, we only earn minimum wages!" Jakub said, "Well, we can convert to vegetarianism. Our lawn is abnormally high, and maybe vegans can eat blades of grass. We will never have to buy food again!" That sounded reasonable, so I shut up and accepted it, picking up my phone to call the hospital and inform them. I sighed grudgingly as they asked for my husband's name. "Hedwig Trump," I replied. His real name was Hedwig, but after he killed my old friend I had taken to calling him Jakub in anger, as if he was a substitute for my old friend, and that habit had never left me.
And then a chirpy voice answered me. "Oh my Prep, is that really you Hed? It's been a while, honey!" The voice sounded familiar, so I decided to keep pressing. "Yes, I'm Hedwig Trump and I know who you are, so tell me who you are and what you want," I answered, trying to sound casual and nonchalant. "It's Britney and I'm so excited! I can be a mother now! I hope to see you more often, Hed. I hope to make more babies with you soon!"
But then the phone line went silent. I saw that Jakub had plugged it out of the wall. "Uh . . . excuse me?" he glared at me. "Were you just trying to impersonate me?" I should have felt ashamed, but I didn't. "Yes," I spat, "and have you been cheating on me wif Britney da prep?" He looked taken aback, and didn't answer immediately, so I continued attacking him. "And this isn't our baby, is it? It's Britney's, isn't it, Hed? Seriously, why does that girl cheat on me with everyone?!"
Jakub sighed and said, "You know, she and I go a whole while back . . . before you raped me three years ago, in fact. She's my cousin." I screamed in exasperation. "I've just about had it with you, Jakub! I'm about to lose my preppiness!" I burst into tears as I burst into tears sensitively and Jakub tried awkwardly to comfort me.