I'M SORRY, OKAY?! *SOBS*
I have no excuse, apart from forgetting everything when it was time to write.
SO VERY SORRY.
But Musician's BloodBreak/Mum/Daughter/Sibling suggested we compile our crazy PMs into one chapter, and since we have at least nineteen different conversations going on at once, it will be… interesting… (might have to split it up into a few chapters).
Teacher is an old guy who we believe was born and raised in a don't-swear environment.
Em: *Reading passage from Thunderwith* *Reaches swear word* Uuh... 'More where this stuck-up beep came from?'
Teacher: Come on, Em. There's nothing wrong with the word 'b*tch'.
Class: *Collective GASP!*
Em: *Laughs awkwardly* Uuuh... *Skips swear word*
Teacher: No, we're up to 'More'.
Em: *Skips sentence*
Teacher: Start from 'more'!
Em: *Thinking* Why the hell does he want me to swear so much? Fine. 'More where this stuck-up b*tch came from?'
Em and Doc playing Slender: (Note that Doc is afraid of masks, ventriloquist dummies, mannequins (ESPECIALLY mannequins), dolls, bla bla bla I'm automatonophobic.)
Doc: *Clinging to Em's arm and cutting off her blood circulation*
Em: Stop it! I swear, you'll make my arm fall off!
Doc: *In control of the torch*
Em: *In control of the feet*
Doc: *Trying to turn torch around* OH MY GOD! IT'S STUCK! IT'S STUCK!
After many 'IT'S STUCK!' moments:
Em: I swear, if Slendy comes and the torch's stuck we'll have to do some awkward side-shuffle thing to get away from him. He'll think we're such weirdos.
After getting the note off the side of a tunnel (which took some time because of some torch drama):
Em: Okay, we have the note. Now Slendy hangs around here, so let's just get out before he –
Doc: *Turns around*
Slendy: *All up in our faces (with no screen fuzzies!)*
Doc: OH MY GOD! *Kicks laptop away*
A few weeks later, when we also had Coco over.
Coco and Em: *Playing Slender*
Doc: *Staring at ceiling, very freaked out*
Em: *After scaring us with false alarms many times* I swear, you guys are so easy to scare. I mean, I can just do it any time and you guys would freak out!
Coco: Do it to me.
Coco: Try to scare me.
Em: Okay. SLENDY'S THERE!
Sport theory, answering questions about our current physical activity, what we could do to improve it and what sports we could do.
Question: 'What sports would you like to partake in?'
Em's answer: I would like to ride my bike.
Em: I don't think Miss would like that.
Doc: *Looks over* You need more heart-rendering answers. … Did I just say 'heart-rendering'?
Em: *Snort* I would like to ride my bike on the beach, towards the sunset, the wind blowing in my hair, waves crashing onto the sand, as I pedal away towards my dreams.
Doc, Em, Tall and Shplott standing together. All except Doc are tall.
Soda: *Walks forward* I always feel short when I come h— oh, hey, Doc.
Doc and Em, at Em's house, beating the living pixels out of each other in a WWE game thingo (Bra and Panties):
Em: Stay still, dammit! I'm trying to figure out how to rip your clothes off!
Doc: *Reading instructions* Spanking?! And to fill up your... spank-o-meter?! Press these buttons.
When Em won for the second time:
Doc's Character: *Out of the ring, backing away and clutching body*
Em: YES! Now back away in shame! Hide your body! Shame on you!
Em and Doc, filming outside.
Doc: *Wearing an impressive sack over her head, holding a big-a** sword and wearing a black dress* (I was Satan, if you must know.)
People driving past: *Slowing down car, staring, and speeding up and leaving.*
In a different scene:
Em: *Wearing blue wig*
People driving past: *Slowing down car, staring, and speeding up and leaving.*
To keep the sack in place, we had to pin it.
Em: *Taking pins from Doc's scarf* Why do you have yellow pins?! What kind of a satan has yellow pins?!
Doc: *Raises arm* I'm sure Satan doesn't have flowers on his sleeve either.
Em: *After finishing her Arabic exam* Yeah! *Mini celebratory dance*
Doc: *Joins in*
Teacher: *Trying (and kind of failing) not to laugh*
Remembering the different kinds of tectonic plates:
Em: And conservative plates grind against each other.
Doc: Heheh... not very conservative.
Still learning plate movements:
Em: And the conservative ones... grinding up a storm.
Doc: *Looks up* Grinding up an earthquake.
Em: Doc, you're a pheasant.
Doc: *Looks up* I believe you mean 'peasant'. 'Pheasant' is a bird.
Em: Yeah, no. I meant pheasant. You're a pheasant.
Doc, who composed a parody of a Shakespeare thing (I'M SO COOL):
To cleanse, or not to cleanse, that is the question:
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Unevenness and Blemishes of outrageous Acne,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of pimples,
And by opposing erase them: to scrub, to pimple
No more; and by a face-wash, to say we end
The Heart-ache, and the thousand Natural bumps
That Faces are heir to? 'Tis an ending
Devoutly to be wished. To scrub to not-pimple,
To not-pimple, perhaps to Hope; Aye, there's the scrub,
For in that cream of smooth skin, what dreams may come,
When we have stripped off this mortal imperfection,
Must give us delight. There's the insecurity
That makes Self-Consciousness of so long life:
For who would bear the Blotches and Redness of pimples,
The Nature's wrong, the proud one's Downfall,
The pangs of despised Blemishes, the Perfection's delay,
The insolence of Bumps, and the Spurns
That shallow peers of the unworthy makes,
When he himself might be under the mask
With bare red skin? Who could possibly bear,
To walk and live under a mask of red,
But that the dread of pimples during puberty,
The undiscovered Cream, from whose absence
No Teenager bears,Destroys the confidence,
And makes us sadly bear those pimples we have,
And associate with others that pimples know not of.
Thus Self-awareness does make Cleansers of us all,
And thus the Natural bumps of our Skin
Are smoothed o'er, with the pale cast of Cream,
And teenagers of great ordinariness and average,
With this balm Nature's Curse turn awry,
And lose the name of Unsightliness. Soft skin now,
The magical Cream? Dermatologists, in thy Achievements
Be all my thankfulness sent.
Lea: I...I think I might love you.
*cue moving soundtrack and sentimental trailer-voiceover playing while pictures of pimples appear*
You've done something none of us were ever brave enough to do. These people...these young people...they need someone to stand up for them. We need someone to stand up for us. We're invisible. The world doesn't care for the pizza-faced freaks. We need a voice.
*screen blacks out*
We need you.
IN CINEMAS NOW.
...I think I just made a movie about pimples.
THIS IS BIG DOC.
Doc, perioding, feeling high and watching the Project for Awesome livestream (SO DAMN GOOD):
I kind of want a Men of YouTube calendar.
Lea: Honey, *she whispers in a patronising tone reserved for those of monthly suffering* I think that if I were to go into a shop and buy something called a Men of YouTube calendar, my mum would go into cardiac arrest, and if she recovered, would send me to live in a tower with no doors.
AND MY HAIR BARELY REACHES MY SHOULDERS.
(also, my dad would launch a vendetta against said Men)
If not, they would then question the moral society I keep myself in.
Doc: OH, YOU WOULDN'T NEED TO GO TO A PHYSICAL PLACE.
AND IT'S FOR A CHARITY.
The Project for Awesome.
THE AWESOME PROJECT.
And there are a lot of people on the calendar.
Description: The 2013 Men of YouTube Charity Calendar, featuring eighteen of the sexiest (not really) men on YouTube including Charlie McDonnel, Mitchell Davis, Toby Turner, John and Hank Green, Charles Trippy, Tyler Oakley, Phillip DeFranco and MORE! Available only for P4A fundraising!
SEE?! IF I GET THIS, I HELP MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE! DON'T YOU WANT THAT FOR ME?!
AND IF YOU GET STUCK IN THE TOWER I WILL GIVE YOU LENGTHS OF SILK JUST LIKE IN THE FAIRY TALE AND YOU CAN KNOT THEM TO MAKE A LADDER (I can help) AND ESCAPE THE TOWER.
JUST DON'T GET PREGGO.
Lea: I wouldn't get preggo if YOU were the one with the silk would I?
Doc: NO, YOU WOULD NOT.
(BUT I MAY BRING FRIENDS. WINK WINK.)
Doc, still high.
Doc: BAA, BAA, BLACK SHEEP, HAVE YOU ANY WOOL?!
Lea: NOW WHO JEW CALLING BLACK?!
That being said, I MADE DUMPLINGS YESTER'S DAY.
Most looked like they were barfed from the wrong end of a large silk worm, but I ate those ones.
No one knows.
Doc: WRONG ANSWER.
BAA, BAA, YELLOW SHEEP, HAVE YOU ANY WOOL?!
I'M SO PROUD OF YOU.
I BET THE DUMPLINGS TASTED SIMPLY FAB.
Lea: Well, DUH. They tasted absolutely asianlicious.
YES MA'AM YES MA'AM THREE BAGS FULL.
Poor attempts at flirting.
Doc: *Flips hair back* OH LEA, your face is more radiant than the sun! How you put it to shame, even in the Summer months! *Flips hair again*
Lea: *slaps arm* oh stop it you.
AND YOU, sweet Doc
thou teeth are fairer than the Winter's snow,
even in the harsh frost of the morn.
*gazes at teeth*
Doc: Aww, my dear. :)
And thine eyes!
So bright in the darkness, beautifully bestowed upon thy face.
Their brightness lighter than the full moon.
Lea: ...thy eyelashes thicker than the mist of mountains' morn,
how they frame those blinding pupils so.
So hopefully next update will come sooner. Happy holidays, and congratulations on surviving he end of the world! We've survived so many apocalypses, have we not?
On another note, I've noticed a… uuh… hmm… less reviews.
ARE WE BECOMING LESS FUNNY?! :O OH GOD SAY IT AIN'T SO.