feelin' myself

I don’t know. It feels like that’s already the case, so… I really don’t know. He created them, though. Purposefully, so it’s his own fault. He knew what he was getting himself into. He was, and he did it without a nose. That’s incredible, I think. The things you can accomplish being noseless. 

Yeah, well. I think they were more of a happy accident. He accidentally put the chemical X in, but I’m sure he had fun before that. I’m pretty sure the cauldron he was mixing it all up in wasn’t too thrilled about the explosion either. Maybe being noseless is the key to moving forward in the world. You should crack open a book on the Dark Arts.

Or not. I’m not big on animated anything. They do, yeah. I don’t think they’re supposed to look like humans, though. So it’s all good. I’m not sure fictional mutant things created in a lab are supposed to grow up, but I don’t know. Voldemort wasn’t insecure. His confidence was quite endearing.

I know. What would you do if you suddenly had three mutant daughters to take care of? They grow up. They have dreams. Okay, point for you. He was a man after what he wanted. I would’ve ridden Tom Riddle into the sunset.

I’m going to try and hope for the best. Or we can pick another movie that doesn’t involve anything popping out of anyone’s stomach.

We could watch something for kids. I was thinking about how the Powerpuff Girls were born earlier and I watched an episode and they didn’t even have fingers or, like, toes and they were just flying around with little stumps for hands and feet. And they look like bug alien mutant babies, Lucas. What are they gonna do when they’re teenagers? They’re gonna be so insecure about their freak eyes and their no noses. 

Maybe I’ll pretend it’s you. 

Good, maybe if you pretend hard enough, it’ll actually happen.

People don’t like to see people they care about cry? We can watch Alien if you want. Just don’t watch the scene where the baby alien pops out of the dude’s stomach.

That’s like asking me to have the “Mac” without the “n’ Cheese.” Maybe I’ll just pretend you’re the one with the alien baby popping out of his stomach.

I guess so. I don’t mind shopping with other people, but I’d never go alone. I’d be bored out of my mind. Neither do I, but I was referring to my siblings. I have to buy for them. Well, aren’t you just a doll. I’ll put you in the little seat and push you around. The way to your heart is through your stomach too.

Everything is more fun when you’re doing it with another person. For the most part. Yeah, well, so was I. Insufferable and Spineless. My brothers. Zing. Oh, for sure. Good, an angel shouldn’t be forced to walk around on her own two feet anyway, so it’s great that common folk like you exist to make living easier for those of us that are destined for the clouds. I’m beginning to think so, too. In some cultures, food is an aphrodisiac.

I’ll be waiting. I don’t like doing it, but I like smelling it when you get them out of the dryer. No, shopping for Christmas is ten times worse. I never know what to get, because I hate most of the people I have to shop for. It’s easier if we go together. Yeah, we can do that. I’m down. I think going grocery shopping is a good date, to be honest. I’ll even take you to Jack in the Box after.

Christmas shopping is fun when you do it ahead of time. I don’t really bother trying very hard for the people I don’t like. I go as generic as possible and hope they don’t call me out on it. They never really do because most of the people I hate are spineless and insufferable. I agree, it’s nice. See, I knew I kept you around for a reason. 

Text: Dino Dev, guess who didn't encounter the zombie apocalypse?

Text: Just. Be here for me? Like, emotionally. And don’t laugh at me when I cry.

Text: Dino Dev, guess who didn't encounter the zombie apocalypse?

Text: Fuck, me either. Just.. Jesus, Devin. How much would you hate me if I said ‘I told you so’.

Text: A little. The last thing I want to hear is an “I told you so.” So, please, just. Don’t. I can’t do this. I can’t.

I’d like to see that. Hey, as long as you’re doing the laundry, you can wear whatever. I know, I know. I just don’t enjoy shopping for it that much. I always get the wrong thing, too. I don’t mind it if we make a date out of it. 

You might, one day. Once I reach my final form. I like doing laundry. That fresh laundry smell is so clean and nice and addicting. Shopping for food is like shopping for Christmas. You could always just write a grocery list. And, what, make out in the frozen foods aisle? I don’t mind calling it a date, though. A little extra time with you can’t be taken too lightly.

Text: Dino Dev, guess who didn't encounter the zombie apocalypse?

Text: You’re craving bacon and your hints might be going right over Lucas’ head but I’m not an idiot.

Text: I’m always craving bacon. But. Okay. Fair enough.

Text: Dino Dev, guess who didn't encounter the zombie apocalypse?

Text: I bet it is.

I doubt that. I’ll start taking you to the gym with me if that starts to happen. I’m sure I have something that’ll look like a dress on you laying around. I figured. Somehow I always end up getting dragged to the grocery store.

I’ll get buff and lift cars like a true superhero. I know you do, so I’m not even gonna bother looking through my own stuff anymore. You shouldn’t be complaining, you love food. This should be like a field trip in your eyes.

Text: Dino Dev, guess who didn't encounter the zombie apocalypse?

Text: Damn. Just.. think bacon-like thoughts? Yeah, okay. And by ‘us’ I was referring to my siblings and I, but apparently your conscience interpreted it differently.

Text: I’m gonna cry about bacon. Hey, look, none of that conscience stuff. My conscience is fine.

Text: Dino Dev, guess who didn't encounter the zombie apocalypse?

Text: Yup. It was delicious. Get Lucas to make you some. Oh, shut up. One of us has to. 

Text: He’s busy doing worker bee stuff for the foreseeable future, so. I appreciate my mother, okay. Just...from a distance.