This story is a short. For Chapter 5, there will be 5 short stories. I don't have anything else exciting to say. I like feedback. -- Sumacumlaude@hotmail.com
Writing delays suck, no? As do short chapters, right? Well, so do stupid jerkfaced assholes that I want to beat until their blind, and then I want to castrate them, and throw their weakened bodies into a meat grinder and make sausage out of them that fat ugly men will eat at their morning breakfast and shit out that night.
DISCLAIMER
This story isn't supposed to imply anything about the members of Nsync or anyone else involved in the story. This is all made up. In better English, IT'S NOT REAL! If you're too young in your area or it's illegal, then leave. If homosexual themes offend you then you may want to leave as well.
Chapter 5--
My head was hurting like never before. My nose was running. I was cold all over. And worst of all... JC was working with Joey, Chris, and Justin downstairs, and I couldn't get his attention from the upstairs bedroom. I needed soup, goddamnit.
All I want is some soup and another blanket. Is that so much to ask. Soup-blanket. I don't understand the problem here. He won't come upstairs. I've kicked, and yelled. I think he's deaf. And you know what? I think the song he's writing sucks! He's definitely no Garth Brooks. Stupid city boy.
I kicked my legs a few more times and yelled out his name some more. Nothing worked. "JC, I HATE YOU!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs. My throat was starting to hurt. I want medicine now.
I decided to try a new approach to this. The Justin, Joey, Chris appeal. "JUSTIN!!!!!!!!!!!" I screamed. No reply. "CHRIIIIIIIIIIIS!" Nothing. "JOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEY!" I cried out. My voice was beginning to die out on me. I hurt the quick thudding of feet.
"Yeah, Lance?" JOEY!
"OH, JOEY!" I moaned out. "Marry me! JC is nothing! I've been screaming for hours and hours and hours! I just want a blanket, some sinus medicine, and some nice warm soup. Can you get that for me? Please, oh, please, Joeylove?"
He laughed at me. "Sure, Lance. I'll get that junk for you. Be back in a bit."
"THANK YOU!" I called out, then crossed my fingers. Chicken noodle, chicken noodle, chicken noodle, chicken noodle, chicken noodle. My mantra has become chicken noodle. I want chicken noodle soup. Knowing my luck, I'll get tomato. Dear god, I hate tomato. Alphabet would be cool. I like the little noodlie letters. Goddamnit! I JUST WANT NOODLES IN JUICE! IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK!?
I closed my eyes and napped for a bit longer until I heard footsteps again. "Lance! I'm back!" JOEYLOVE!
"JOEY! MY LOVE! What did you bring me!?"
"A warm comforter off the downstairs guest bed, some sinus stuffy nose medication crap, and some beef vegetable soup."
I gagged. Beef vegetable. For the love of god, beef vegetable. I pouted as he helped me sit up, laid the blanket over me, then set the bowl on my lap.
"Enjoy, Lance. I'll be back up in a little bit to check on you." His footsteps left the room.
"Yeah. And I'll be awake in a little bit to bitch to you. Stupid, fucking, beef vegetable shit." I pouted as I sniffed the first spoonfull of soup. Ew, beef reek smell. GAG. "My life sucks." I said unhappily as I dropped the spoon back in the bowl.