Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song so We Wouldn't Get Sued, chapter 7
I immediately got off Billie Joe, pushing myself up off the ground, and spun around to see who it was. Billie Joe sat up, wiping himself off, and then gave the person on the porch a weird look. Why was SHE here and how did she get into-oh yeah, I never locked the front door. Damn...
There stood Mrs. Hanshaw, our nosy neighbor. She was around eighty-five or something, I don't really know. But every single time I'm changing in my room upstairs, she peeking in to see what I'm doing. It's damn creepy as hell. You know, to have an old woman watching you when you change. That's why I always have my blinds closed at night.
"Mrs. Hanshaw, what are you doing," I panted, staring at her in disgust. Okay, let me explain what this old woman looks like. She has unnaturally white curly hair on top of her head, almost black freckles lining her already pale and wrinkly face, a glass eye that moves from side to side every single second, she wears clothes no one would wear in a million years, and a smile that would creep even the creepiest man out. Plus, her hands are crusty and peeling. It's absolutely gross.
"I heard yelling," she said. "And I came to see what was going on."
"Right, well, we were having a disagreement," I said, sighing. "You can leave now, Mrs. Hanshaw."
"I'm watching the two of you," she said, glaring at Billie Joe. When she turned around, I made a gagging gesture behind her back and then looked at Billie Joe.
"This never happened," I hissed at him before going inside. Mrs. Hanshaw was standing in the living room. "Mrs. Hanshaw, I'd appreciate it if you got out of my house now."
"Nonsense," she said.
"Mrs. Hanshaw, don't make me call the cops," I said, grabbing the phone. "Now, I'm in a really bad mood right now and I really don't want to mess with you right now. Please leave..."
"My dear, I am an old woman," she said, clutching her cane. "I demand respect."
"Yeah? And I demand you get the fuck out of my house," I said angrily. "Don't make me push you out of here because I will." She gasped and turned on her heel before exiting the house. "Bitch..." I slammed the door behind her and turned around to see Billie Joe standing there with a smug look on his face.
"That wasn't very nice," he said, crossing his arms in front of him.
"Who said I was nice," I said bitterly, opening the door. "You too...get out of my house." He walked slowly towards me and stopped a foot away.
"Not yet," he said. He gripped the side of the door and slammed it behind me. I stepped back against it, glaring at him, but he stepped forward. "Are you still going to leave?"
"Depends," I said.
"On what," he asked, smirking. And then his lips were on mine, kissing me furiously.
Here we go...this was only the beginning of something worse...
There stood Mrs. Hanshaw, our nosy neighbor. She was around eighty-five or something, I don't really know. But every single time I'm changing in my room upstairs, she peeking in to see what I'm doing. It's damn creepy as hell. You know, to have an old woman watching you when you change. That's why I always have my blinds closed at night.
"Mrs. Hanshaw, what are you doing," I panted, staring at her in disgust. Okay, let me explain what this old woman looks like. She has unnaturally white curly hair on top of her head, almost black freckles lining her already pale and wrinkly face, a glass eye that moves from side to side every single second, she wears clothes no one would wear in a million years, and a smile that would creep even the creepiest man out. Plus, her hands are crusty and peeling. It's absolutely gross.
"I heard yelling," she said. "And I came to see what was going on."
"Right, well, we were having a disagreement," I said, sighing. "You can leave now, Mrs. Hanshaw."
"I'm watching the two of you," she said, glaring at Billie Joe. When she turned around, I made a gagging gesture behind her back and then looked at Billie Joe.
"This never happened," I hissed at him before going inside. Mrs. Hanshaw was standing in the living room. "Mrs. Hanshaw, I'd appreciate it if you got out of my house now."
"Nonsense," she said.
"Mrs. Hanshaw, don't make me call the cops," I said, grabbing the phone. "Now, I'm in a really bad mood right now and I really don't want to mess with you right now. Please leave..."
"My dear, I am an old woman," she said, clutching her cane. "I demand respect."
"Yeah? And I demand you get the fuck out of my house," I said angrily. "Don't make me push you out of here because I will." She gasped and turned on her heel before exiting the house. "Bitch..." I slammed the door behind her and turned around to see Billie Joe standing there with a smug look on his face.
"That wasn't very nice," he said, crossing his arms in front of him.
"Who said I was nice," I said bitterly, opening the door. "You too...get out of my house." He walked slowly towards me and stopped a foot away.
"Not yet," he said. He gripped the side of the door and slammed it behind me. I stepped back against it, glaring at him, but he stepped forward. "Are you still going to leave?"
"Depends," I said.
"On what," he asked, smirking. And then his lips were on mine, kissing me furiously.
Here we go...this was only the beginning of something worse...
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