Michelle's P.O.V

So, I believe that the "asians are bad drivers" stereotype is confirmed. I almost crashed into twelve cars, cut off eighteen, and about 900 people flipped me off, so that's great.

I waited at the entrance in front of the theme park for fifteen minutes and I could tell the guy at the ticket booth was getting pretty annoyed. Suddenly, a black head of hair emerged through the crowd of people, meeting his amber eyes with mine.

Scott jogged up to me, which seemed to tire him out.

"Sorry I'm late, those thirteen year olds can be crazy. I don't know what they're on," he panted.

I shrugged. "No worries, but I think we should go inside because that dude is looking at me as if he had a plan for murder himself," I whispered. We both eyed the guy at the ticket booth who was in fact, glaring at me with his ugly green eyes.

We got in line after a group of teenage boys, and let's just say they were quite interesting. First of all, their phone models were newer than mine, and second of all they started and finished every sentence with bruh. I'm not even kidding.

"Bruh, Lori followed me, bruh."

"Bruh, you're joking, bruh."

"Bruh, not even, bruh."

"Bruh, damn that girl is hot, bruh."

"Bruh, I'm starved, bruh."

"Bruh, yeah, how long is this line bruh?"

"Bruh, almost as long as your favorite word bruh," Scott whispered in my direction. I coughed a laugh because there was literally just a clique of girls in front of all of us. Well, they were kind of flirting with the ticket manager, so that was one problem.

Once those girls finally stopped giggling at everything the ticket booth guy said and we finally escaped the "bruhs" we were inside.

"I don't know why these pieces of paper cost so much, but you know-" Scott put his hands up. "I'm not going to judge."

I scoffed. "Please, I spent half my childhood here, but I wasted about the net worth of Bill Gates here as well."

He stopped me. "Bruh-"

"Stop," I interrupted. "Get some help."

Scott cleared his throat. "Sorry, but how much can you bet that I can actually win one of those." I followed his gaze to the casinos of  theme parks, the claw machine.

"Never," I whispered. "Those things were obviously created to ruin the human race."

"True though," he agreed but still walked up to it anyways. Following in pursuit, I walked down the aisle of torture machines.

"Is that an iPhone?" Scott asked squinting at the box.

I looked inside the machine, and yes there was an iPhone. Next to it was an iPad and an iPod. From my studies, I can conclude that this theme park makes a lot of cash.

Scott laughed a short laugh. "And then there's me with the latest Android." He held up his phone and waved it around. As I laughed, he shrugged sheepishly. "My parents paid for this phone so I'm just going to have to deal with it."

We walked down the line of claw machines and marveled at all the cute stuffed animals, or maybe that was just me.

"Aqua Adventure," I heard Scott say. I turned to face him but he was looking at a water ride that was as tall as the Great Wall of China times four. He faced my direction and smirked. "You better have brought extra clothes because you're gonna get soaked."

"God no," I replied, emphasis on the no part.

"Come on, you're no fun." He grabbed my hand, wait. He grabbed MY HAND and pulled me closer to the roller coaster.

I was so stunned that I didn't even argue until we got in line. Still, he didn't grab my wrist or my arm, but my hand. The astonishment didn't last for long though because the tantrum of a crying kid who wanted cotton candy threw me right back into reality.

"Jesus Scott, I prefer to not get wet until the end of the day."

"It'll be fun, I swear Michelle-"

I cut him off, "I'd prefer if you didn't say your profanities to me Scott Chazan."

He rolled his eyes so far back that I was given enough hope to wonder if he found his common sense back there. "It's in the afternoon, the sun's risen and you'll be hotter than a tamale five minutes afterwards."

I sighed and soon enough, we were at the front of the line. We gave the bored looking girl at the ticket booth a ticket each and we hopped on the ride. Not like sexually, but like actually. I don't know how to explain this, lord please help me. I might need some Jesus water after this or whatever it's called, I wouldn't know, I'm atheist.

The girl who was managing the ride told us the rules in her monotone voice, and started the ride.

We rushed through the raging waters and slid down a hill faster than a person could say potato. We both screamed and laughed as a wave of water hit us passengers in the face. The cart spun around in a small lake for a second and then we went up a hill taller than Mount Everest itself. Finally, after rushing down the mound, getting hit with a tsunami of water by the way, the ride came to a stop.

I flicked some water in his face and he spluttered as I laughed and got out the cart. The girl who managed the ride looked me up and down snorting a laugh to herself. Well at least I have a person to laugh with. Suck my non-existent male orgasms boi.

Scott caught up to me and literally coughed up water. "I swear," he told me. "I think I swallowed a fish."

I flipped my wet hair at him, whipping his face, as he tried to wring his t-shirt out on me.

Groaning, he stumbled and I laughed once again. We walked away from the ride while Scott was losing his profanity all the way.

Turning back, I looked at the girl who was very obviously, judging me. And of course, being the obviously mature human cauliflower I am, I stuck out my tongue in her direction. She looked at me, wide-eyed and shot me a death glare. I just ignored her and strutted away as she threw silent daggers at me.

"Okay," Scott interrupted my little victory. I looked at where he was pointing. A stand with hundreds of metal buckets were lined in a square. "That game, is rigged. I'm not even joking this time." He walked towards it. "But I'm still going to play it anyways."

Let's just say, after the ten tickets he spent and the twenty minutes I spent scoffing at the reason he was playing the game, he won one prize. Smiling at me with victory at his side, he handed me a small stuffed llama. 

I put it on his shoulder. "Hey," I admitted. "You guys look alike!"

Rolling his eyes, we went off to play some other, very obviously, rigged games. We had so many prizes at the end of the day, that we got food just for the bag. I know, the world is ending. On the other hand, the world might be saved because I made all the shots for the basketball shooting game and won a stuffed panda that was half my height. 

I carried that thing like it was my child as Scott and I walked to the food court.

"Let's see, I'm hungry, but we didn't go on any rides yet so. . ." he trailed off, sounding very conflicted.

"Why don't we just eat a light snack and watch a performance or something?" I instantly gravitated to the vendor selling hot dogs.

He shrugged and went over to another seller who was selling hamburgers.

I claimed a table in the sun, as my hair wasn't fully dried yet, and sat my panda down next to me. After a while, Scott slid into the bench right next to me, placing the bag of prizes by his side. 

"You know," he said between bites. "I couldn't find you for a second, then I saw a panda sitting next to someone and said to myself, 'That's Michelle.'"

"Wow, you know me so well." I took a bite out of my hot dog. "You do know that hot dogs are better though."

"Please," he retorted, his voice coated with a hundred layers of sass, "Hamburgers are the reason why everyone's still living."

"And getting diabetes."

"Hello, your food isn't any healthier! Look at mine," he pointed to his food, "It has lettuce in it. I'm healthy now."

I pointed to my meal. "Whole grain bun, I'm looking at your unhealthy little fart nugget and it disgusts me."

He put his hand on his chest dramatically. "McDonalds could beat your little Wienerschnitzel any day." He took a bite out of his nasty little "healthy" cow.

"Nope," I told him, popping the p. "Wienerschnitzel's quality is ten out of ten, would recommend."

"McDonalds is more than a bit famous than that little old German Hot Dog restaurant."

"McDonalds is also famous for it's cause in obesity."

We bickered and ate our late lunch at the same time. By the time we finished, our arguments were weaker than Jake Paul's rapping.

He snorted as we threw our stuff away. I watched as he clicked open his ANDROID and gasped at the contents on his screen.

"Well, it's currently 5:02 P.M so that meal was more of an early dinner." 

In literal denial, I opened my phone and saw that yes, it was 5:02 P.M.

"Well, we should get going," I told him, hoping that the disappointment wasn't very evident in my voice.

"Yeah," he agreed.

We walked out of the food court, souvenirs in our hand. Suddenly, Scott halted and I realized he wasn't walking with me. I back-peddled, and went to the spot where he was standing.

"Is that what I think it is?" He asked me in astonishment.

"Yes, I think so," I replied while squinting my eyes to make sure I read the sign correctly.

"Gosh, this is so American I could hear the National Anthem."

"America has finally fell apart Scott, I repeat. We have officially fallen apart."

"We're all gonna die now," he whispered to me.

"This is so unbelievably unhealthy, I'm gaining weight by smelling it."

"How come I haven't seen this before?" He questioned.

"Because the world wasn't ending before," I answered back, still studying the little food stand.

"I better not be the only one questioning humanity."

"Don't worry, I'm questioning life now as well."

We stood there, staring at the sign for a good five minutes. Our brains still couldn't seem to process what was going on.

"Seriously, I'm not acting out in a nightmare am I?"

"Nope World War III is definitely going to start right now."

He chuckled. "Let's give all of them a Pepsi." (I need a Kendall Jenner Pepsi ad joke, go watch it, it really is a joke).

"Dammit," I said after pinching myself senseless. "It's real."

"Fried Starbucks," he mumbled. "There is a stand that fries Starbucks."

"They might as well fry apple pies from now on."

"Aren't apple pies already fried?"

I looked at him like he was a total retard. He made eye contact with me. "Wait, they aren't?" He asked me, seeming completely amazed.

"They're baked," I told him. "Just like every other pie in the world. You better neck yourself boy."

"Still though," he gestured at the food stand. "This sight could make me put bread in the freezer."

"Is it bad that I still want to taste it?" I whispered.

He looked at the fried drinks. "Nope." 

We both walked up to the stand and ordered the fried caramel macchiatos, also known as the main reason why everybody in the world can see seasonal depression.

We sat down on a bench together and looked at the crispy drink. 

"Do we eat it or like drink it?" Scott asked while looking at the monstrosity carefully.

I took a bite of the fried layer and the drink oozed out of hole. The worst thing was, it was delicious. Scott copied, and we finished the reason why America needs free health care.

I saw tears running down Scott's cheeks and I turned to face him directly.

"Scott," I asked solemnly. How could he be crying at this moment? What did I do? "Is there something wrong?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Um. . ." I thought of all the things I did. Did I hurt him, like emotionally? "What happened?"

"The world's ending," he mumbled. "There's fried Starbucks, people invented a casino for kids, and that fried delicacy was so good-" he choked out the rest, "but so bad."

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Author's Note-Current Mood: 😎

3 MORE DAYS UNTIL SCHOOL ENDS AND I'LL BE HOME FREE!!!

By the way guys,

MMMUUURRRIIICCCAAA!!! 

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