you know how when you go to a concert or show of some sort and the person on stage is like “HOW’S EVERYONE DOING TONIGHT?!?!?!?!” and the audience cheers back? why? you’re not answering the question, you’re just yelling. imagine if we did that in daily conversation. “hey jeff, how are ya?” and jeff just starts screaming and clapping in your face
I have yelled out “great!” I also sometimes respond to “you guys are amazing!” with “YOU’RE amazing!”
As Diane rushed out the door, gently pushing the children forward with their backpacks and violins and soccer balls, she stumbled. She looked down and discovered a creepy ass porcelain doll. She found it odd for a moment but she was in a rush. She threw the doll in the back seat as she buckled Sally and Junior in. The kids passed the doll back and forth on the way to school. Everyone wondered where it came from. They la la la’d on about their business.
Once Diane was settled in at work, she thought about that doll. Lying there. Like a fucking beacon of evil on the back seat. Its black mouth opening wide as a bass to reveal 232 little teeth. The teeth shooting out of the black hole mouth, like shrapnel, wounding the children. Blood spattering all over the interior of the Honda Pilot. She was rattled by this imagined horror. She knew she had to ask around to confirm her fears.
Sure enough, other moms with daughters the same age, had gotten the creepy porcelain dolls delivered to their doorsteps in the same neighborhood. Ten in total. Ten little beacons of evil delivered right to their front porches. “Oh hell no,” said Valerie. “This can’t be,” said Jane. “Guys, the dolls look like our daughters,” screamed Beth!
They called the police.
The police said they didn’t really have a crime to investigate.
Then Diane was like,
So they said they’d dig around and “look into it.”
The moms felt so bad about automatically assuming the worst. They decided to put together a tea party to thank the little old lady, to apologize for the misunderstanding.
Diane was the first to speak up. Diane had the doll on her lap as Sally stood beside her. Diane played with Sally’s hair as she spoke. “This is actually such a beautiful gesture. I’m so sorry we misunderstood. There was just no note and in today’s day and age, we can never be too careful. I’m so sorry. We love the doll. Thank you so much.” She nudged Sally toward the old lady. Sally hesitated as a nine-year-old might. “Go on Sally, give her a hug. Say thank you for the doll,” Diane muttered in her fake nice voice, gently scolding the child in front of all to see.
SALLY. LET ME STOP YOU RIGHT THERE.
Do not hug that little old church lady. That voice inside that is telling you no! Listen to that voice. THAT WAVY FEELING IN YOUR TUMMY. THAT STRAINING IN YOUR BUTTHOLE. THAT IS YOUR INTUITION TELLING YOU EVIL IS LURKING. She ain’t up to no good. You mother has let her guard down.
YOU DO NOT HAVE TO.
FUCK THAT OLD LADY!
RUN SALLY, RUN!
That little old lady has the strength of a pedophile giant under that frilly dress. In the basement, her old ass do-nothing ass creeper ass masturbating ass Cat Fancy subscriber red lipstick wearing rapist ass son dwells. He’s wearing eyelet bloomers as he sharpens his knife collection. He decoupaged a coffee table with images of Amanda Knox. He ain’t right. He ain’t right!
They work as a team. One lures you to the second location. YOU FIGHT, YOU FIGHT. Never let them take you to the second location. You kick nuts in and smash and grind them with the heel of your boot. You bite. You punch. You thrash side to side, left to right, zig zag in this motherfucker. Hit soft places. Punch the nose. Kick the throat. Bear down on the hands with all your might. Pinch tiny pieces of flesh in the inner thigh. PINCH. BITE. KICK. SCRATCH. PULL HAIR. KEEP ALL OF THIS DNA FOR YOUR REPORT. Do not go to the second location, where the son is waiting to live out his sick fantasies. DO NOT GO SALLY.
This is the world we live in. Diane is wrong! Do not accept this doll. You will show that you are vulnerable.
WE DO NOT ACCEPT THIS SOLVED MYSTERY OFFICERS. AIN’T SHIT SOLVED!
I Know My Name Is Steven. Remember that? Kidnapper asked about donations for the church. Amanda Berry. Remember that? Tricked her with a puppy as a gift. Don’t nobody want your scary ass dusty ass moth ball stinking ass doll lady, FUCK OUTTA HERE. Countless examples.