As we walked down the tourist-filled sidewalks on International Drive, we spotted the flipped over the van and the bundles of cars awkwardly swerving over it. Plenty of signs and a telephone post were left stranded in the street.
"I won't be letting y'all drive my doggone van anytime soon," Jonny remarked.
"Nobody wants to drive your ugly van," Bell asked, "It feels all spooky in there".
"Shut the hell up, Sparky!," Jonny said.
"Honey, my feet hurt," Gretchen complained, walking about a few seconds behind the rest of us.
"Yeah, not gonna lie, me too," Marriam said.
"Well, y'all wanna stop at the next bench and wait for the trolley?" I asked.
"Hell yeah," Marriam said.
Since the next trolley was right in front of us, we all sat down at the hard bench, which was surrounded by a flimsy green ceiling with four supporting poles. Not even a second later, Bell yelled "WOOOOOO!", jumped up, and started hopping around as if he was on fire.
"Boy, what the hell is wrong with you?" Jonny asked him.
"A nail pricked my hiney," Bell responded.
"Just stand up then," Jonny replied.
"Alright," Bell said. He stood for a few seconds, and leaned on one of the poles. The ceilings and poles began to shake violently, and without warning, they collapsed upon us, causing the bench to crash upon the ground and smash in half.
"You little dog, you ruined my mascara!" Gretchen yelled. She picked up one of the poles and charged after Bell, who began sprinting in triangles, his teddy bear as his only defense. Back and forth screaming between both occurred.
"This is so funny," Jonny said, "That I'm not gonna even try to stop it".
The festive-appearing green Trolley pulled up to our stop, and the driver opened the door. As we boarded the bus, the gruff-sounding bus driver began giving us instructions.
"Alright weirdos, just sit on the bus, don't move, and uh, blow something".
"Blow something?" Jonny and Bell remarked.
"Just sit down, juveniles," the driver responded.
Marriam sat next to me on the bus and began eating her chicken sandwich. The bus driver immediately noticed.
"Ma'am, you can't eat on the bus," the driver said.
"I need to eat to live," Marriam angrily responded.
"You tryna get smart with me, lady?"
"Baby, let's try not to make a scene," I said.
"Frankly, I don't give a damn," Marriam said.
"Just get up and throw your junk in the trash," the driver said.
Reluctantly, Marriam grabbed her food, trotted down the aisle, and stopped at the trash can. She took a vicious bite out of her chicken sandwich, and spit it in the bus driver's face.
"Oooooooh!" the passengers resounded.
"You must be one crazy tramp," the driver said, "Cause it seems like you want my fist in your face".
"Bring it on, old man," Marriam responded with a snark in her voice.
"Not this bullcrap again," I remarked. I then rose from my seat and attempted to trudge my way through the recently formed crowd. The bus driver rose from his seat and took off his cap, revealing what one spectator referred to as a "Mr. Clean head".
YOU ARE READING
Revenge Cookies Part IX (2015)
Teen Fiction"That teacher, she almost killed me. She almost killed me. That teacher smiled in my face, and tried to kill me with 'kindness'. Oh she will be killed, but not with kindness". The usual suspects: Josiah, Mariah, Kenyelle, and Emmani become stunned...
