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Went shopping this weekend with Harmony.   Celebrating the recent milestone (not that she knew it).  

We leaned over the upper-level railings at the mall and had a ‘spot the fashion crisis’ competition.   We made two babies cry by pulling horrible faces at them when their moms weren’t looking.   We insulted all the lame-ass Halloween costumes and decorations, and mimicked the ‘scary’ poses of mannikins in shop windows.   We didn’t buy a fucking thing.   It was awesome.

We did bump into Brix.   My new nemesis.   And his brain-dead posse of over-blown but baby-faced boys who have played way too many contact sports over the years.   They casually sauntered around until we had a bulky sweat-shirted body on every side.   Fucking great.   Way to spoil a nice afternoon.


Brix isn’t one to waste time.

“Oh look.   It’s Emo Boy and Dyke Girl.   What the fuck are you doing here? – the cinemas are that way.   I’m sure you’re missing admiring someone’s ‘new moon’ right about now…”

His boy band laughed dutifully.

(NB. The points of interest with a nemesis are where you agree.   We clearly share a mutual fucking distaste for Twilight.   We also both enjoy the use of sarcasm and insults – the difference there is, his bites, and mine is actually biting…)


At this point, Harmony chimed in sweetly.

“Aw, Brix.   Still sore because Angelica dumped you last month to hook up with me?   Sorry, honey – those fucking ego bruises can take such a long time to clear up, can’t they?”

(NB. I’d thought Harm had just been talking shit about her fling with a cheerleader, but the terracotta color of anger that Brix then turned made me reconsider. Nice work, Harmony…)


“You stay the fuck out of this, bitch.   I’m here for a word with ‘Jonathon’…”

His spitting contempt in the name pronounciation was actually quite effective…

(NB. So – truth here.   I’m kind of enjoying this.   It’s been a while since someone actually wanted to flex their testosterone with me – I do actually like being able to just finish the violence sometimes, rather than always start it…)


He shoved me.

“You’re the one who fucked up our ‘business meeting’ with that little shit Caleb….  

(NB. Fuck.   That was ages ago.   It took him this long to put the pieces together?)

“He had to wait a fortnight to get what was coming to him, and I fucking got detention.   I never get detention.   I’m a fucking saint as far as the teaching staff knows – I’ll be scoring athletic and math scholarships before the year is out, and I’m not having some little fucking shit-stirrer like you fucking it up for me.   So you and me – we’re going to have a little business meeting soon, yeah?   When you least expect it – when you’re not looking over your shoulder for what’s coming for you – that’s when I’ll be there…

(NB. See what I mean about what we have in common?   Plus, I’m doing a little math myself right now.   But the sum total is too many witnesses, and too much exertion.   This one will keep… Oh – wait.   He’s not done…)

“So, make a memo, dickwad.   You and me have an appointment to keep, and it’s not going to end prettily…

Before turning with Team Brix to leave, he moves in close and says with finality and real menace:

“You’re a fucking dead man.”



(NB. Sometimes? – Brix is clearly more perceptive than he looks…)




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