Seven years later, after the death of Boobiehagen and the Indiana-Jones-looking-guy, Damien was living with his sort of aunt (AN: It took me seven hours to remember how to spell that fuking shit, wtf?) and uncle. Damien was brooding because his military school uniform looked more swagilicious on his sort of cousin, Jamarcus. Jamarcus generally had a better wadrobe than Damien which was probably because Aunt Marion was a fucking bitch. Once she had gone so far as to give Damien's rhinestone jeans to Jamarcus. Aunt Marion really liked to snort cocaine and she knew that Jamarcus always kept a baggie of Colombian marching powder in his coat pocket. This was probably why she preferred the blond boy.

The morning was drawing on and the two boys were almost ready to leave for their first day of military school. However, Aunt Marion started snorting cocaine with crazy straws in the middle of the corridor. Aunt Blonde-Lady-With-Short-Hair sighed and backhanded the old crone.

"Pull your shit together."

"Fuck you, it's my body and I'll do what I want with it," Marion hollered. To quote Ringo Starr, there was a long silence.

Damien then decided he was four thousand per cent done and left, leaving Jamarcus alone with Aunt Marion.

"I don't think you should hang out with that boy anymore," said Aunt Marion.

"WTF. He's my cousin and we live in the same house, that's would be really fucking hard. Also he's my friend."

"So you're homosexuals?" Aunt Marion gasped.

"What the fuck?! We're related. This isn't Texas, it's Chicago," replied Jamarcus. His feathers were somewhat ruffled by the fact that "he's my friend" automatically translates to "we are boyfriends" but then again Aunt Marion had found Damien's tumblr the other day. It was mainly a swag blog but every now and then "fandom" stuff popped up. Aunt Marion was now really aware of today's lingo and she was so proud of her self that she bought a pack of crazy straws for hardcore cocaine snorting.

"I don't believe you but whatever. Also, I think he stole some of your Colombian marching powder, so yeah. Have fun at your shitty little military school."

"I'm actually going to trumpet school. That was why I was holding a trumpet a few minutes ago."

Aunt Marion then took the trumpet and threw it out the window which was really distressing for Jamarcus because he really liked that trumpet and had been eager to learn how to play 'Thrift Shop' on it. Jamarcus then left the house and got in the car with Damien. It was actually really awkward because he just realised he forgot his iPod and everyone knows car journeys suck when you can't listen to music whilst the scenery buzzes past your window.

"Why were you in there for so long?" asked Damien.

"Because Aunt Marion murdered my trumpet!"

"WTF?"

"And I never learned to play 'Thrift Shop' on it."

"Isn't it 1978 right now? Has that song even come out yet?"

"Of course it has, Macklemore is quite the lyrical genius. His music is so good that Doctor Who went back in time and gave everyone an iPod consisting of all of Macklemore's songs. And also 666 copies of 'Call Me Maybe'," said Jamarcus, rolling his eyes at his sort of cousin's stupidity.

"Oh yeah, that was a really weird day."