Chapter Text
And it was no joke I bated worthless tabloids. I'm pretty sure beyonce herself knew I bated the waste of paper. But unlike woodcrest, luckily nobody really gave a fuck about them either around here either. Infact the only reasons the sales had been rocketing lately is because Mr. Freeman's idea of using them for rags and "half priced "toilet paper.
"Who are they anyway? Do they even know the illuminati doesn't even exsist anymore? "My friend felicity must have saw our napkins on every table."that's ashame, pinpointing celebrities for evil satonics "she shook her head as she rocked the halfway sleeping child in her arms. Then I had to shiver.
If there was one thing that had to be true based off the constant wars and claiming on the youtube comments under the music videos, it had to be someone going off about the illuminati. As if tragically.
I had bust finished using one those tsbloids to wipe the chicken crumbs and dead flies off the ordering counter. I even learned how to get the printing from the pages as nail designs using fibbing alcohol. Not only that but I even started using them to make a collage on my bedroom door. Sales for those cheap things were on fire. I bet if the sales were like they were in the hood as to somewhere high class, those greasy tabloid companies would be competing with apple for money.
Felicity set the child down back in the crib she was carrying."ok I know w're only like 16, but you lost all the baby fat"I told her. She smiled and twirled the mini skirt that got her the baby fat."actually I dont know if its age ir what, it just comes off "she said with a shrug. I rolled my eyes with a smile."so can you hurry up so we can go? "She asked."where are you going to take kylie? "I asked looking ar the baby girl."here come her daddy "the door to our restraunt roughtly swung open and in came a tall and dark teenage with a wife beater and baggy jeans showing red boxers. I really rolled my eyes.
I wanted to take huey with us, somebody and probally the only person you could talk to without feeling like ypi have to fuck them. I Aldo wanted to go to Dirty laundry and earn an extra few bucks by reciting home made smut. But she, who should be caring for her child, wanted to go to Hoody Allen, which I guess you can call a club. I dont dance or find intrested in drinking at my age but it beats the hell out of cleaning a soul food joint out on a Saturday night.