#johnmichaeldorian

[Jesus H. Christ, this really is Hell.  This is it, Perry thinks, he's died and gone to Hell.  He knew he would; that comes as no surprise, as death is inevitable and let's face it, there's only one place that could accept him in the afterlife--but he'd hoped for some reprieve from...this one, the worst of 'em all.]

Nnrrrh.

[Making one of his trademark manly grunt-y noises, Perry picks up JD's hand and moves his arm off his shoulders in one smooth, almost as if practiced and perfected, motion before prodding Dorian's cheek with his middle finger--a message of both kinds, prodded and The Finger That Prods.]

Why if it isn't Sally, the Little Doctor Who Couldn't!

Why sure, if by 'the old times' you mean 'the times Dr. Cox fantasized about torturing me while slowly murdering me, perhaps by vat of acid or I don't know, something slow and, y'know, torturous' then by all means, yes, that is this time!  Right now!  In this very moment, which is, in fact, the worst of all moments I've ever had in my life.

You see there, Bobbie--and that's Bobbie with an 'ie' so you're sure to note that that is, in fact, the feminine spelling--spending any amount of time, including in this strange, school-y type thing, with you, is just the worst punishment any deity could impose upon me.

And frankly, I'm not sure you'll make it through the day.

Ahhh, jeez, if it isn't Cheryl, Barbie, and...eh, whatever, you're not too bad but don't tell the others...

[Here it comes: The Dreaded Rant.]

Y'know, it's bad enough when you unbe-hee-heeee-lievably stupid numbskulls sit at my table that I'm enjoying--[breaks into a poor rendition of the song]--allll byyy myyyyseeee-eeelf--during lunch, dinner, or hell, even breakfast, when I feel even more like murdering everybody within a thirty mile radius--

Or even, no, especially, during my soaps time, or god so help you and even he has no authority here, during my gym time, but--for the love of--

[Then he grows deadly quiet, and the prominent vein in his forehead twitches.]

Why. did. you. three. come. HERE?

I can think of a million other things I'd rather do than be subjected to the company of you three, and that even includes sacrificing my children to the ＤＡＲＫ ＬＯＲＤ ＪＯＲＤＡＮ, but here I am, looking at the likes of you all, and I--oh, oh, here it comes-- [here he imitates vomiting into an imaginary toilet or garbage can, he's not picky--just a jerk].

Sorry, just had to purge myself of the thoughts of homicide I will inevitably be committing here.

johnmichaeldorian started following you

"So we meet again Scooter."

Rika stared at the papers in front of her, lying on her desk. Rika may be a science genius, but she does not get this homework at all. What's librium? And alprazolam? The only thing she knows about the body is penis, vigina, and sexual intercorse. How is she supposed to finish this? 

Rika pushed back form the desk, her chair scraping against the floor, filling her quiet dorm room with the eerie sound. She gathered her papers in her hands, walking towards the door, being careful not to trip over anything in the dim lighted room. Rika guesses she'll just have to find the teacher, ask for a private study session.