Meg Penn

It seems as if you’re actually blocking my exit, darling.

-moves over just a tiny bit without looking up- Sorry.

“I can’t say if anyone in my class did anything crazy like that at prom because I skipped out. But I think going to prom covered in blood sounds like the best option.”

“I think if anyone did something like that, you would know. Small town, and all that. Besides, it would absolutely scandalize the poor, innocent townsfolk, which is exactly why it sounds so fun.”

“Personally, I’d love the telekinesis more than anything. But if you come to prom covered in pig’s blood…Well, that’ll be one unforgettable night.”

“This is actually making me want to go to prom now.”

I have a doctors appointment today and I just have a feeling they’re going to want to take x-rays for something or they’re going to need to give me shots.. I don’t want to go.. Someone quick, give me an excuse to skip it..

I could tie you up and leave you in my trunk for a few hours. Would that do it for you?

“Planning on going all ‘Carrie’ at the prom? Hopefully without the pigs blood. And try not to destroy the entire town.”

“Oh, but the pig’s blood is what makes it fun.”

“I didn’t even like prom season when I was in high school. Spending way too much money on a dress you only wear once and watching everyone turn into complete idiots over a silly dance? It gets old fast.”

“It’s fucking ridiculous. It’s been, what, a week? And already I’m feeling vaguely homicidal. I’m gonna end up killing someone by the end of this, I swear.

“I swear, if I have to hear my mother tell my little sister prom is her chance to find ‘the perfect match’ I’m going to be sick. Everyone knows prom night is about underage drinking and teenage pregnancy. Is that really what my mother wants to encourage? Can prom season please be over?”

"Ha, I wish. As much fun as it is watching everyone I hate be even more stupid than usual, it gets a bit nauseating after about a day of it.”

“Well then, never mind, wouldn’t want to trouble your already brooding teenage mind.”

“Well then thanks for wasting my time with something so obviously unimportant.”

…Maybe a handjob, probably at least a kind look and a sympathetic headpat?

Fuck off.

“Excuse me, would you mind staying a moment?”

“Kind of. What do you want?”

That doing it is hard as fuck and your’s is better than most? I mean, I don’t wanna put anything near my eyes, let alone something sticky and painty. You are both insanely beautiful and very talented, Miss Penn.

...What are you trying to get from me, Rivers?

So, I’m gonna take that as code that you had a weird dream too, but you’re playin’ it all cool like the hot bitch you are so we all look crazy while you sit there looking just unbelievably attractive in your seriously above-average eyeliner job? …Is that it?

If I tell you that, there’s really no point to a code. And what do you even know about eyeliner jobs?

Well, I don’t know. I do know that I can hardly ever remember my dreams, but I could remember every detail of this one when I woke up, so that was odd. It’s just weird. And dreams are interesting, don’t you think?

I guess, but they’re no more interesting today than they were yesterday, just because everyone suddenly had freaky ones.

“How so?”

“Well, most people around here think I’m a witch, batshit, or both. Whichever way you look at it, people are scared of me.”

A dream’s a dream, sure, but if everyone had a bad dream on the same night, it’s a mystery… Surely you know somethin’, Little Miss Witch?

Actually, I don’t, and frankly, I don’t care enough to.