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Harry and Heather's Dull Friday by Amon Din [Archive]

Post by Mercury on Sat Mar 15, 2014 2:42 am

On the old Silent Hill Talk forum, one of our most welcomed members, Amon Din, used to post some really interesting shit. This is one of his stories that he wrote and posted that I used to get a big kick out of. I totally forgot that I had it saved until now. Enjoy!

Amon Din's original post wrote:Notes: Okay… This is actually a two-part story written in the same style as my other previously posted fan fictions. They’re about Harry and Heather’s Friday the 13, and the terrible, sinful events that ensue for each of them… This first story, of course, is about Heather. The next story, which I will post a little later, is ‘Dirty Harry,’ about Harry’s debauched trip to the local pornography shop. Mwa-ha-haaa… Ah…

Synopsis: Heather’s Dull Friday is about Heather and her quest for a job. Tired of living on Harry’s paltry weekly allowances, she seeks out a good job suitable for a starving teenager like her self. But, she made a slight oversight in waiting until Friday 13 to do so…



Tony’s Crab Shack is an actual restaurant.

Heather’s ‘Cuh-seen’s’ (cousin) name is actually a variant of the name Alessa.

Colline Silencieuse is actually French for ‘Silent Hill.’

TGIF Nite on ABC no longer exists.

This one is dedicated to Narutopunk and YoUsEeiTtOo.

(The story opens in apt 102 of the Daisy Villa Apartments, with Harry sitting in his recliner chair watching Jeopardy “Tournament of Champions” on the TV whilst merrily scarfing down Cheetos. )

Man on TV: I’ll take TV Clowns and Existentialist Philosophers for $500, Alex.

Alex Trebek: This 19th century Danish philosopher is considered by many to be the father of Existentialist Philosophy.

Man on TV: Ooh, that’s a tough one…

Harry: (Talking through a mouthful of Cheetos) Oh, I know this one. It’s Big Bird.

Man on TV: Hmm…

Harry: Who is Big Bird!

Man on TV: Who is… Your mama?

Alex Trebek: Ooh, I’m sorry, but the correct answer was Soren Kierkegaard, born May 5, 1813 died November 11, 1855. And that brings your total down to - $5,375, putting Bimbam the Happy Chimp in the lead with $8,000, Niles the One-Eyed, Buck-Toothed Spelunker in second with $4,000, and Ambassador Amr Ahmed Abd el Meguid El Zayat of Iran in third with - $5,375. When we return, Bimbam the Happy Chimp will be going for the win and his 8th consecutive victory at the Jeopardy Tournament of Champions.

Harry: Moron. I tried tellin’ you the answer, but you just ignored me. So screw ya.

Familiar Voice: Dad?

(Harry screams in surprise and drops his bag of Cheetos on the floor)

Familiar Voice: Dad, it’s just me.

Harry: Cheryl? Is that Cheryl?

(Awkward silence)

Heather: Uhhh… Yeah. It’s me, dad. You know… Your only daughter?

Harry: (Embarrassed) Oh, uh… Yeah. Of course. Oh! Cheryl! Hi! What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing here?

Heather: Oh, I just dropped in because, well, you know- I live here.

Harry: Of course you do. (Picks out a Cheeto that is encrusted with filth from lying on the floor, and simply blows most of the junk off of it before popping it into his mouth) So… What can I do ya fer?

Heather: Well, dad. My love. My reason for breathing. (Kneels next to him on the floor, her arms folded neatly on the left arm of Harry’s chair, smiling sweetly) It’s just that it’s Friday again, and… You know what that means.

Harry: Boy, do I! TGIF Nite on ABC! Woot woot!

Heather: Uh, No… No, dad, I was thinking more along the lines of… It’s Friday now so give me my damn allowance or I start to break things- important things. Things that a normal person would want to keep intact. Things like- the TV, for instance.

Harry: No! Not the TV! Here’s 10 dollars, it’s all the money I have, I swear to God!

Heather: Dammit, dad! I’m 17 years old! $10 doesn’t buy a whole lot of the things a typical teenager like myself needs. I’m talkin’ clothes, iPods, LCD’s, DVD’s and PSP’s. Ah NEEDS ‘em like ah needs air to breathe! Now come on! Dig deep, not only into your wallet, but your heart as well! I need some new clothes! Puh-leeeeeease! I’m begging you! Look at me! I’m beg-ging! How often do I beg? Not often at all, I’d say. Now please, please give me an amount that I can work with… Please… (Hanging her head) I’m on my knees, here… (softly) Please…

Harry: Oh, alright. But only because you're so darn cute, ya little cutie.

Heather: (Lifting her head up with a big smile on her face) Yes! Thanks dad!

Harry: Here’s 15. It’s a little much, but I really think you deserve it.

Heather: (Exasperated) UGH!! That’s IT!!! I’ve had it! I’ve gotta get a job, NOW! I can’t take this any more! I don’t NEED your lousy PITY money! I’ll make my own money, and I’ll buy lots of junk that I don’t need! That’ll show ya!

Harry: So… You don’t want the $15?

Heather: Ugh… I’m so mad right now I’m gonna take your foul, ill-gotten money and buy stuff with it! Then maybe you’ll learn to treat me with a little more respect! (YANKS money out of Harry’s hands) I’m taking the car, too. Don’t try and stop me, or you’ll be sorry!

Harry: Okay.

Heather: I might have known you’d say something like that. You make me sick! AHH! I can’t even talk to you right now, or I might just explode!

(Heather grabs the keys to the car and heads for the door)

Harry: (Cheerfully) Okay, Cheryl honey. Be careful and I’ll see you later tonight. I love you.

Heather: (Angrily) I love you too. I’ll be back before 9. (walks over and gives him an angry kiss on the cheek) Bye! (Slams door behind her)

Harry: Huh… Wonder if Bimbam won the tournament or not… (Resumes eating his Cheetos and watching TV)

(This here is where Harry’s day and Heather’s day branch paths…)

Heather's Dull Friday

(A small, dilapidated structure with a large sign that reads ‘Crabs’ and a smaller sign that reads, ‘Help Wanted.’ Heather walks in, takes the sign out of the window, approaches the counter and drops the sign down)

Tony: Can I help you, sweetheart?

Heather: Yes sir, look no further for the help that you need… I am your girl! (Smiles pretty)

(Awkward pause)

Heather: (Still smiling pretty) Heh heh… Uh… Yeah… Me. I can do… Whatever it is… You need done…

(Another awkward pause)

Heather: (Swallows hard) Uh… Hm… Tee hee…?

Tony: A little over confident, aren’t you? Takin’ the sign outta the winda and just assuming that I’d hire ya on the spot without so much as an interview first?

Heather: Oh, well, I, uh… Just thought… You know… Employers like… People who take the initiative and all… Right?

Tony: Alright. You’re hired.

Heather: Yes! What is my job? Cashier? Cook? I’m a pretty good cook, you know. Ooh! Or maybe you want me to be the delivery guy! I can do that, too. Gotta car and everything.

Tony: Nope. Gotta special job for you.

(Cut to outside of restaurant, where we see Heather dressed in a poorly constructed crab costume passing out flyers and advertising Tony’s Crab Shack)

Heather: (Humiliated, speaking through gritted teeth) Crabs… I’ve got… Crabs…

(Teenagers laugh hysterically as they walk by)

Teenager 1: Yeah, I hear they have a medicine for that now!

Teenager 2: Huh huh huh! Good one, Joe. You totally owned that girl in the crab costume!

Teenager 1: Hyuh hyuh hyuh! Yeah, right? I’m pretty great, aren’t I?

(They walk away, laughing)

Heather: (To herself) God, I can’t take this…

Heather’s Brain: We can do this! As long as we don’t see anybody we know, everything will be just fine, right?

Heather: Yeah… Yeah! You’re right! Wow, you sure are smart!

Heather’s Brain: And you sure are pretty!

Heather: Thanks! Hey, we make a great team, don’t we?

Heather’s Brain: We sure do!

(They both laugh together, when they’re interrupted by a familiar voice)

Voice: Heather? Heather Morris?

Heather: Huh? Wha?

Voice: It is you!

Heather: Oh! Oh, God no…

(We see that the voice belongs to none other that Kevin, the typical generic ‘Hot Guy’ at Heather’s High School)

Kevin: Hey, what’s up? Why are you dressed like that? There a Halloween party going on or something?

Heather’s Brain: Oh my God, it’s Kevin! We can’t let him see us like this! What do we do?!

Heather: I don’t know, you’re the brainy one! You figure something out!

Kevin: Wha?

Heather: (In a crappy Pseudo-European accent) Uh, no, no. You are meestaken my American friend. I am… Uh… Heather’s… Cuh-seen… Alessandra… From… Colline Silencieuse… (Under her breath) Yes, that’ll do… (Back to crappy accent) Yes, uh… In my country… When one first enters a new country… Eet ees tradition to wear the ceremonial garb of the crab… Symbolizing… Uh… Open…ness… And friendship. Hee hee… (Smiles big)

Kevin: Uh… Okay. Well, tell Heather I said hi, okay?

Heather: Yes, yes! Sure thing, chief! Roger wilco! Will do! (Gives a big thumbs up trying to do her best to make herself look like an over eager foreigner) Bye-bye!

Kevin: Bye… (Walks away)

Heather: (Normal voice) God damn… Glad that’s over with. As long as I don’t see anybody else that I know, I should be alright.

(A bus full of Heather’s classmates coming back from a trip drive by and see her dressed in her ridiculous costume)

Heather: Son of a bitch…

(Cut to outside of Tony’s Crab Shack where we see the crab costume stuffed into a dumpster and the ‘Help Wanted’ sign put back into the window. Heather drives away, onto her next vocational adventure)


(Cut to inside of Happy Burger, Heather is filling out a job application)

Heather: (Reading from application) Hm… “Previous job experience”… Does baby sitting count? Yes. Of course it does. (Writing) B.a.b.y s.i.t.t.i.n.g…. There! “Salary”… (Writing) Whatever I finds, I keeps… “Do you consider yourself to be a ‘People Person’?” Huh… Well… I’m a person… And I’m also people… Sooo… Yes. I am. “Do you work well with others?” Yes. As long as they stay the hell out of my way. There! All done!

(She goes up to counter and hands it to the manager)

Squeaky Voiced Pimple Faced Manager: Oh, uh… Yes… Your credentials are impeccable. Mm hm. Yes. I can start you right away. Yes, yes. Here’s your uniform. You can change in the bathroom.

Heather: Sweet! (Grabs uniform and heads into the bathroom to change)

(Comes back out, looking all spiffy in her uniform and visor)

Heather: Yeah… Finally a real job.

Manager: Miss Heather, I’m afraid we here at Happy Burger always wear our shirts tucked in to our pants.

Heather: Huh? Oh, okay. I can do that. (Tucks shirt in) There we go! Better?

Manager: And we don’t chew gum on company time.

Heather: (Slightly annoyed) Oh… Okay… (Takes gum out of her mouth) Anything else?

Manager: And remember to smile!

Heather: Okay… (Big, toothy smile)

(Manager walks away)

Heather: (Through big, toothy smile) You big jerk…

(Heather walks up to cash register to commence her duties at the Happy Burger)

Heather: Okay! I’m ready to earn some money! Bring it on!

(After 5 hours of working, Heather looks tired and depressed)

Heather: I hate my job… I hate everything…

(Young guy walks up to the counter)

Young Guy: Yeah, I’ll have a triple Happy Burger Deluxe with extra bacon and cheese.

Heather: Sure. Why not? You’re never too young for a triple bypass. Anything else I can get for you?

Young Guy: Yeah, uh… And a Mega sized fry.

Heather: (Ringing it up) Uh huh. Anything else?

Young Guy: Oh, and a small diet Coke.

Heather: Oh. Gotta watch those calories, eh? Is that it?

Young Guy: Yup.

Heather: $5.71.

(Makes transaction)

Heather: (Looking at watch) *Gasp* Almost quitting time! Yes!

(Takes off her dumb hat and ascot and clocks out)

Heather: (To manager) Look, I had some fun here, but I’m afraid it’s not working out. It’s not really you so much as it is me…

Manager: You… You’re breaking up with us?

Heather: Don’t put it that way… Think of it as just taking a break from each other, okay?

Manager: (On verge of tears) Alright… Then I guess this is goodbye…

Heather: See you around.

Manager: See you around. (Runs off crying)

Heather: Wuss.


(Outside of Happy Burger, we find Heather’s car being towed for being parked across 2 spaces)

Heather: (Running over to tow truck) Hey, hey! Whoa whoa whoa!!

(Tow truck guy finished hoisting Heather’s car up)

Heather: What are you doing!

Tow Truck Guy Vinnie: I’m afraid this car is parked across two parking spaces, ma’am.

Heather: Well, of course it is! You don’t park a fine automobile like this so other, lesser cars can park next to it! C’mon, use your head! (Calming herself, taking on a nice tone) I mean, heeeey, buddy… C’mon… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I mean… We all make mistakes, right? I’m only human after all… Right? Please, don’t tow my car. I need it to drive around in! Please… How will I get home? I’m only 17… (Pretends to start crying) *sniff* I mean… If my dad finds out about this, I’m screwed… Please… *hic* Don’t…

Vinnie: Only a heartless bastard would refuse the pleas of a beautiful young girl like yerself… I guess you’re really unlucky that I’m a heartless bastard, ain’t ya?

Heather: (Stops her mock crying) You son of a bitch!

Vinnie: Hyuh hyuh hyuh. See ya ‘round, missy. (Laughs as he boards his truck)

Heather: I’ll get you for this!

Vinnie: Whattaya gonna do? Cry me to death? Ha ha haaaaa!

(Starts to drive away)

Heather: GOD DAMMIT!!! What am I gonna do now? Do I really have to walk? Oh, man… I’m so tired… Dad’s gonna kill me…

(Cut to a long stretch of road, Heather is slogging along, making her way home)

Heather: At least it can’t get much worse…

(Thunder clap, rain starts to pour)

Heather: Oh. Well. What’d I expect? I said it couldn’t get any worse, and life proved me wrong. Just great. I’m so friggin’ lucky.

(Heather continues to walk through the rain and cold, shivering)

Heather: Why me?

(Seconds later, the tow truck with her car attached comes speeding by and goes through a mud puddle, splashing mud all over poor Heather)

Heather: AHHH! YOU BASTARD!! SH*T!!!! *cough, cough* DAMMIT!!!

(Heather continues her arduous trek home, covered in mud, shivering and coughing, finally reaching the Daisy Villa Apartments right before 9)

Heather: (Shivering) Aw, man… I have a cold… *cough, cough cough!* So glad to be home…

(She opens the door of her apartment only to find Harry standing there in a black studded thong, covered in grease and feathers)

Harry: Uhh…

(They both stare at each other for a few seconds, Harry covered in grease and Heather covered in mud)

Harry: I won’t ask if you don’t…

Heather: Deal.

Heather and Harry both head to their respective rooms, thus ending one dull (but not entirely uneventful) Friday.

Amon Din's original post wrote:Okay. I know it’s been a loooooong time since I posted the original story, but I figured it’s never too late to post a story regarding Harry Mason. Anyway, here’s the deal; On July 17, 2006 I posted a fanfic called ‘Heather’s Dull Friday’ that involved Heather Morris and her search for a job to supplement her crummy allowances (taking place on Friday 13). And in my initial paragraph, I promised a second part to the story, involving the events of Harry’s Friday the 13, but I never posted it. Mainly because at the time I was getting ready for my entry into medical school. But now that things are more stable, I can finally post the revised edition of Harry’s story.

Oh, and in case you want to read (or reread) the original story, I’ll post the link to it here. Heather’s Dull Friday

Also, I’ll start the story with its original opening as was originally intended, since their individual Fridays begin in the same way. If you already read Heather's opening, scroll down 'till you see 'Harry's Dull Friday' and read from there. Enjoy.


Okay, so that’s it. Been almost two years, but I finally posted it. Hope you enjoyed it.

Harry's Dull Friday
(On the TV)

Ambassador Amr Ahmed Abd el Meguid El Zayat: (strangling Bimbam the Happy Chimp) DAMN YOU, BIMBAM!! DEATH TO BIMBAM! DEATH TO AMERICA!!!

(Security personnel rush to the scene to separate Amr and Bimbam)

Alex Trebek: Ha ha ha. Oh, Amr. Always the jokester. We’ll be right back, folks.

Harry: Dammit. I hate commercials. (looks down into his bag of Cheetos in search of a particularly cheese-encrusted puff)

Woman’s Voice On TV: Hey there, big boy…

Harry: Hm…? (looks up cautiously from his cheesy snack bag)

Woman: Do you like sex?

Harry: Uh… (now fixated on commercial, the bag of Cheetos slipping from his grasp onto the floor)

Woman: Do you like hot, horny skanks willing to do anything that your perverted little heart desires?

Harry: Do I?!

Woman: Are you a middle-aged single father in desperate need of companionship but are too concerned about what your daughter might think if you started dating again at your age?

Harry: Uh… Well, that’s a little eerily specific, but…

Woman: Then come on down to the Grand Opening of Raul’s Erotic Wonderland Emporium. We have thousands upon thousands of sick, depraved and utterly kinky toys, tools and DVD’s for the horny old man in you! ‘Visual Materials’ for everyone’s bag: Every kind of fetish you can think of, some even the Dutch don’t know about! Girl-on-girl action, girl-on-guy action, girl-on-Chupacabra action, girl-on-extraterrestrial action… We have it all! Blow-Up Dolls, handcuffs, edible panties, and for the ladies… Edible soiled-Jock Straps! Get down here to our Debauched Extravaganza today! First 200 customers get a free Cleveland Steamer!

Harry: (drooling and mumbling incoherently)

Woman: And remember: A real girlfriend might tie you up to the bed and steal your wallet; but a Pleasure Doll won’t! Come on down today!

Harry: Oh… Oh, God… Must… Visit… Porno Merchant…!

(gets up to grab keys, only to remember Heather has them)

Harry: Aw, CRAP! Now What’ll I do?

Harry’s Brain: Why don’t we try walking?

Harry: Walking?! Walking is for chumps!

Harry’s Brain: Well, then get ready for another night of waxing off to the bra ads in the Sunday paper.

Harry: No, wait! Okay! We’ll walk. But I don’t have to like it. Stupid brain.

(cut to outside Harry’s apartments, where he is dressed in a long trench coat, a hat, and dark sunglasses; the traditional ‘Pervert’s Uniform')

Harry: Okay… Just play it cool… Nobody will be able to recognize me with this trench coat and glasses on…

Mailman: Hi, Harry!

Harry: Oh, hi Frank.

(Delayed reaction)

Harry: Ah, son of a…! Okay, okay… That was just the mailman. Maybe… Maybe if I run… No one will notice me…

(starts running)

Harry: Oh, yeah… Oh, hell yeah! It’s working great!

Homeless Guy On The Street: Hey, mon! Off to the porno store, huh?

Harry: N-no! (stops in his tracks) I… Uh… I’m just…. I’m a detective After a perp! You seen a, uh… A tall Hispanic guy with a moustache go by here?

(Homeless gut points to a house being landscaped, with about 20 men fitting that description)

Harry: Oh… Uh… Thanks. Gotta go! (scampers off)

(Cut to a back alley. Harry is stealthily making his way from corner to corner in order to reach the porno shop)

Harry: (sidled against a dumpster) Okay… Main streets are too dangerous… Need to stick to back ways… (does a forward roll from the dumpster to the corner of a building) Whew! Okay… Where am I? (reads rear exit’s door sign) ‘Tony’s Crab Shack’, huh? Okay… Two blocks ‘till Raul's… Okay, Harry… You can do this.

(Harry flattens against the wall and moves slowly to the opposite end, peeking against the wall towards the street. There he sees some girl in a poorly made crab costume handing out flyers)

Harry: Pfft! At least I’m not that pathetic. What an asshole.

Girl In Crab Costume: Crabs… I’ve got… Crabs…

Some Teenager: Yeah, I hear they have a medicine for that now!

Other Teenager: Huh huh huh! Good one, Joe. You totally owned that girl in the crab costume!

First Teenager: Hyuh hyuh hyuh! Yeah, right? I’m pretty great, aren’t I?

Harry: Hee hee heeeee… What a dope. Enjoy handing out fliers to idiots, dumbass. Heh heh.

(Quickly does a ‘S.W.A.T. Turn' to the corner of the next building)

Harry: (stops when he hears a noise) Huh? What was that?

(A man comes out of the Chinese restaurant next door with a bag of garbage)

Harry: Eek! (hides under cardboard box)

Chinese Restaurant Guy: Huh? Thought I heard something…

Harry: (from underneath box) No you didn’t.

Chinese Restaurant Guy: (staring at box) You know what? I don’t even care. (tosses garbage into the dumpster and heads back inside)

Harry: Whew! (takes off box) That worked… So well… That Plissken guy really knew what he was talking about!

(Harry gradually makes his way to Raul’s undetected)

Harry: (sees the big ‘Raul’s Erotic Wonderland Emporium’ sign) I… I finally made it… *sniff* (long pause, Harry choking back tears) So this is what it feels like... When doves cry...!

(A long, solemn pause)


(runs happily inside)

Harry: (wondering at the pornographic spectacle before him) My… My God… This… This must be what Howard Carter felt when he discovered Tutankhamun's tomb… Or what Ray Kroc must’ve felt when he discovered his secret sauce…

Man: Welcome sir, to Raul’s Erotic Wonderland Emporium. Where all your wet dreams come true.

Harry: Oh… (voice trembling) You angelic, radial, seraphic man… This… This is surely the land promised by God to Abraham and his descendents… Canaan… Elysium… Nirvana….

Man: Uh… Sure. Whatever gets you off, man.

Harry: Might I favor your blessed ring with a tender kiss, My Lord?

Man: Uh, let me think… No.

Harry: (goes about to peruse the countless DVD’s and magazines)

(After a few hours, we find Harry in the store’s dressing room, trying on a black studded thong he found in the store’s bargain bin)

Harry: (staring at ass in mirror) Oh, baby… I am hot.

(suddenly we hear a loud commotion in the main part of the store)

Harry: What the…?

(Harry peeks out from the dressing area into the store, where he sees Ambassador Amr Ahmed Abd el Meguid El Zayat firing an AK-47 into the air)

Harry: Holy crap!

Ambassador Amr Ahmed Abd el Meguid El Zayat: Listen to me and no one gets hurt! I am so angry about being bested by that crafty simian Bimbam the Happy Chimp, I shall be robbing this pornographic emporium of all it’s tapes featuring hot girl-on-zebra action. If you comply, no one gets hurt. Muhammad, go check the back rooms!

Muhammad: Yes, sir!

(Muhammad starts heading Harry’s way while the store manager starts filling Zayat’s bag with said DVD’s)

Harry: Oh no! Hairy guy with an assault rifle approaching, and so little time to get my clothes!

(Harry quickly runs over to an open window and uses his mad Parkour skills to glide easily through it to safety)

Muhammad: (Enters room to find it empty, then spies Harry’s abandoned clothes lying on a box) Ooh, free clothes!

(Meanwhile, Harry miscalculated his position and found himself hurtling from a third story window to the street below)

Harry: Oh no! I always knew I’d die in a leather thong of some kind… But a studded thong?

(Harry falls and braces for impact, when he suddenly finds himself immersed in a strange liquid)

Harry: (his head emerging from liquid) EEEW!!! What the…? (looks down to find that he has landed in a barrel full of grease that was sat on a balcony one floor below. The barrel is labeled ‘Happy Burger Cooking Grease’) Oh, thank God! Oh, Grease! Thou hast spared this humble wretch! (kisses barrel)

(Then, a creaking sound)

Harry: (laughing) Wha- what was that?

(suddenly the balcony breaks, and again he is falling)

Harry: Daaaaaamn yoooooou gravityyyyyyyy!!!!

(he falls towards the ground, grease-encrusted, when his fall is broken when he lands in an open-bed dump truck with a sign reading ‘Owaku and Murakoshi Feather Delivery’)

Harry: (his head poking out of the countless loose feathers contained within the truck’s bed, feathers sticking on all parts of his face) Oh! Oh-ho, good old open-bed dump trucks! This is the third time you’ve saved my life!

(Harry clambers out of the truck, completely covered in grease and feathers)

Harry: Man, that’s the last time I walk anywhere!

(suddenly realizes his lack of clothing)

Harry: Ah, crap in a hat! (covers his shame) I gotta find a way home!

(looks around until he sees a tow truck at the Happy Burger hoisting some poor bastard’s car onto it’s bed)

Harry: (in corny 1980’s action hero voice) There’s my ride…

(Harry carefully makes his way to the tow truck from behind. Over the truck’s noisy motor, he can barely hear the truck driver arguing with some girl about the situation. Stealthily, he shimmies into a spot between the car being towed and the truck that is adequately draped in shadow so he can hide there. Then the driver slams his door)

Girl: I’ll get you for this!

Driver: Whattaya gonna do? Cry me to death? Ha ha haaaaa!

(The truck pulls away, with Harry well-concealed within it’s shadows)

Harry: (thinking while the winds hit his body and make him shiver) Okay… As soon as I get to a good enough spot, I’ll jump off, then make my way home. Gotta hurry before Cheryl gets back…

(Rain begins to pour, but seems to do nothing but remove only a few of the feathers cling to Harry)

Harry: Gotta be kidding me! This crap is gonna be a bitch to wash off!

(suddenly the truck hits a mud puddle, splashing a wave of mud all over a poor girl walking along the highway)

Harry: Hmph. What kind of a parent would let their kid walk around in weather like this? Bastard oughtta be thrown in jail.

(After a while the truck reaches a street adjacent to the Daisy Villa Apartments, and he jumps off, rolling as he hits the ground, leaving a disgusting trail of grease and feathers in his wake)

Harry: Eew, nasty.

(Harry quickly creeps to the apartment’s rear, and climbs up the fire escape towards his apartment. Then he jimmies open the window and climbs inside)

Harry: (relieved) WHEW! Made it home before Cheryl! Heh heh. Now all that’s left is to clean up and—

(Suddenly the door opens, and Harry spins around, his stinky ass covered in grease and adorned with a studded black thong, staring at Heather like a deer caught in headlights)

Harry: Uhh…

(They both stare at each other for a few seconds, Harry covered in grease and Heather covered in mud)

Harry: I won’t ask if you don’t…

Heather: Deal.

Heather and Harry both head to their respective rooms, thus ending one dull (but not entirely uneventful) Friday.

ya fuckin rite

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