Kara: Hey, y'all! I started this story, which will get much,
much longer eventually! It's really funny, and it's going very well.
I'm only posting the first chapter, though I have written more. If you
want to read the rest, click submit review and ask! Thanks! This story
is very and a bit disturbing! (Only a bit.) I'm not a boy, but I'm
having fun with this story. (Grins) This is dedicated to everybody
who's ever bothered to read any of my stories, and my papa who died a
few days ago. I love y'all so much!
Bad Boys Don't Wear Hearing Aids
Vampire Kid Kara
It's 3: 26 exactly on a Sunday. Stupid Sunday. Damnitt, damnitt,
damnitt. School starts tomorrow.which means I'll be in High School.
Everybody seems all happy about it, but I say it SUCKS FURRY ASS! So in
like seven freakin' hours I have to go to sleep. DAMN! I've been staying up
till five in the mornin'! Mom hasn't complained. Lucky for me. Sean's mom
makes him go to sleep at 9:30 EVERYDAY no matter what. It must suck to be
him. So here I am, sitting cross legged on the ugliest dirt colored coach
in the entire world, eating Raman soup and watching 'Sister, Sister'. Yeah,
I'm sooooo feminine, ain't I? Lookit, here. If a man wants to watch a show
about two twins, let them. I like that show. So if you're sitting there
laughing your ass off right now, then go to Hell. No, I take it back. Go to
school. Crap, I just dumped my entire bowl of Raman soup on the coach.
After all the trouble I went through to clean up the sofa and make it
look as old as it was, mom walked into the room. She had her hair wrapped
in a towel, a green gooey stuff on her face, and her really long, fake
nails painted neon green. She looked at me funny for a while, and shrugged.
Then she walked into the kitchen to get a donut. I tried to look as
innocent as possible, while sitting on the Raman soup stain. I swear my
pants started to absorb it. Ew. Then she shrieked. Guess she found all the
sponges, paper towels and soap on the floor. Hey, I'm not one for
organization. It ain't my fault. My dad's insane after all. How can you
blame me for having bad traits? She's not letting me play with my
playstation for a week. Damn her. If I had a dog I would have made it
attack her. But then mom would have killed me. And the only pet I have is
this fat rat I named Bill. He's so old I swear he was around when the
dinosaurs were. He even growls and stands on two feet, trying to eat me,
like a dinosaur. But he can't eat me, so I point at him and laugh. Then he
gets madder and bites my nose.
Even if mom was pissed at me for 'ruining her brand new sofa' she
still is making me go to Peachrod to visit dad. She says, since I'm going
to High School now, dad would want to see me before I do. She says he'll be
proud. Hah. I laugh. Not likely. He doesn't even remember me sometimes.
"Why the hell did you marry him, mom?" I asked her as we got into the
She lit a cigarette and inhaled a bit of it and thought for a while.
(She might as well have swallowed the whole thing) After we were at the
next street, she finally answered. "Well, he was real damn handsome. I was
attracted to him, ya know? How was I ta' know 'e was loony?"
"Yeah," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes, "Loony as Loony
She frowned out the window, but ignored what I said. She grasped the
wheel the wheel with one neon green painted hand, and smoked with the
other. I swear she's gonna get us killed one day. Just watch and wait.
Pretty soon an old man will be crossing the street singing 'Zippidy Do Da'
when suddenly mom comes roaring down the street smoking and driving. And
WHAM! Poor dead old guy. Then mom'd go you jail to, and I'd have to go live
with my Great Uncle Friz. He's crazy too. He's dad's mom's brother. (That
is way too complicated. Let's just call him dad's uncle. There we go.) He's
as old as the world and he lives in Brazil. He married this thirty-year-old
gal and had a kid with her, and he's like, seventy. The kid's three-years-
old and the rest of Uncle Friz's kids are in there sixties. Poor, poor kid.
But he's Brazilian and that's cool. Uncle Friz has been married three
times. Sad case, if ya ask me.
Mom pulled up into the drive through window of Checkers.
"Why're we here?" I asked, watching a blind man wandering around. The
blind man tripped on a bump in the road, and fell. I thought about helping
him up (after thinking about laughing at him), but he got up on his own,
after feeling around for a bit.
"We're eating dinner at Pechrod." She said simply, throwing her
cigarette out the window. She started talking to the guy at the window, and
I almost gagged. Oh, hell no. I am NOT eating at Peachrod again! Last
time that we ate there an old lady kept following me around because I gave
her a candy bar. Then dad wound up tossing all of the food out the window,
claiming he wasn't hungry. We ate strips of bacon that night. It was
"MOM!" I yelled after the guy at the window went in to get the food.
"I AM NOT EATING THERE!"
"Yeah. You are. Sorry, sweetie." She said in short choppy sentences,
and lit another cigarette. If dad had known that mom smoked he would've
bitten her head off by now. I was beginning to consider doing the same
"Fine!" I spat. "But if ONE WEIRD THING HAPPENS I'm never gonna visit
"Tough luck, Mickey. You're going to an insane asylum. Weird
things're bound ta' 'appen." She said, looking at me with bored eyes. She
always had bored eyes.
Oh, yeah. My name's Mickey Massali. Everybody calls me Mickey Mouse
and it drives me insane. Even Sean does. I really, really wanna change my
name, but grandpa says that it's important to have the history in my name
known. So, mom agrees with him, and won't let me change it. I swear, my mom
acts JUST like the girls in my school do. If you take out the nerdy girls,
the manga loving girls, and silent girls, and so on.
Grandpa also told me about the history of my last name. He says, his
voice all mysterious and rough, "long time ago.your great times 12 grandpa
visited India. He was famous and everybody on the planet knew him. The
emperor of India invited him to eat with him at his palace, and try out
this new dish invented called 'chicken massali'. He did and liked it a lot.
So he changed his name to Massali." Then he'd lean back in his rocking
chair, smile lazily, and say, "He even spelled it wrong." I used to believe
this when I was a kid. But the more I got to thinking about it, the more I
noticed how WRONG it was. Yeah.Isn't It pronounced 'massalla' or something?
Liked it? Despised it so much that you want to sick a llama on it? Please