“MAN! I TELL YOUS DUDEZZZ WHAT!” Jim erupted from his seat in the back of Kyle’s Whip alongside Eric. “I was so about to go off on that BITCH-ASS, FUCK-FACE Fuller! SHIT, MAN! If he did to me what he did to you, Ky-Ky, then I woulda shoved my foot ALL THE MOTHAFUCKIN’ WAY up his ass!”
“FUCK YOU, JIM!” Eric snapped at the half-Italian teen douche, who turned to the sixteen-year-old stoner with a look of shock on his face. “You were ‘bout to ‘go off’, right? YEAH! I saw you standing up there with your lips tightened when Brent and Kyle were goin’ head-to-head. You weren’t about to do shit, bruh!”
“That’s what you think, Eric… BUT, in actuality, I was really planning the perfect strike… THE GHOST SLAP!”
“The Ghost Slap? What in the fuck’s the…”
SMACK!
“BAM! That’s the ‘Ghost Slap’, SON! HA-HA-HA!!!!” Jim ravenously laughed after smacking Eric in the face with the back of his right hand.
Shocked, but immediately red with rage after being ‘ghost slapped’ by Jim, Eric let out a cry of sheer anger.
“CUT THE SHIT, YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!!!” Kyle raged at both Eric and Jim, who looked up at him in confusion. “Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!!! JESUS!!!!! I’m so sick and fucking tired of you two morons always fighting with each other like a couple of bitches!”
“HEY! WE’RE NOT BITCHES!” Jim defended.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“YEAH, GORDON! JIM’S RIGHT!” Eric followed before a look of utter disgust painted itself on his face.
Looking downwards now, Eric groaned, “Ugh… That felt gross to say.”
“Sayin’ what, E?” Jim asked curiously.
“That you’re right.”
“URGH… YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!”
“I SAID SHUT UP!!!!!” Kyle sounded off again, causing a very disgruntled Eric and Jim to shut their mouths, lower their heads, and sulk bitterly.
“Uh, Kuh-Kuh-Kyle?” Derek stammered out in a fearful tone to his best friend.
“Ugh… WHAT, Derek?” Kyle asked in an annoyed tone.
“I luh-luh-left my phu-phu-phone back at Buh-Buh-Burger Huh-Hut,”
Coming to a skidding halt after slamming his right foot down on the brake pedal to his Porsche 911, Kyle turned to Derek and shouted, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”
Derek shook his head as Kyle closed his eyes and sighed.
“Urgh… Dammit, Derek,” Kyle cursed in a growl as his stuttering friend lowered his head like a sad dog.
“Gordon… You’re NOT seriously thinking about going back there… Are you?” Eric asked in a bothered tone.
“DO IT, FAM!” Jim erupted from alongside Eric’s left. “I wanna show that motherfucker Fuller what’s up!”
Looking over to Jim and knowing that he would be, most certainly, PUMMELED TO DEATH by the two-hundred-and-ten-pound BEAST that was Brent Fuller, Eric said, “Y’know what? I just changed my mind. You can go back there, Kyle.”
Realizing that his friends were surprisingly all in agreement (for once), Kyle sighed, “Ugh… Fine… FINE! Urgh… We’ll go back for Derek’s Phone, but don't think for a fucking SECOND that I'm gonna be goin’ back in that fucking place again! IT AIN’T HAPPENIN’!!!”
“Okuh-kuh-kay,” Derek nodded, causing Kyle to glance over at him again.
“Urgh… Fuck me,” Kyle grunted after pulling an ILLEGAL U-Turn on the thankfully deserted city street en route to Burger Hut.
“AH SHIT! ROUND TWO ‘BOUT TO START UP, YA FREAK-BITCHES! HA-HA-HA!!!” Jim cackled loudly as Kyle drove him, Eric, and Derek back to Burger Hut.
Once his laughter had faded, Jim’s eyes suddenly widened as he said in a fearful tone. “WAIT. Are we really going back?”
