Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > I’m in the Process of Eliminating Myself from the Crowd, But It’s Not Really Working: A Comical Story of my Life, Made to Fit to Your Computer Screen4 Reviews
Meet Frank...sorta...P.O.V. is Mikes.
*Why, you ask? Because it sounds so wicked!
“Sometimes, I feel like, like every noise, every voice just…annoys me. It annoys me so much at certain times that I feel like I could scream at everyone talkin’, just get them to shut…the…fuck up,” The spikey haired kid who sat across from me spoke. His eyes twitched when he spoke and his brain seemed scattered around the room.
There was no way in hell this was going to work.
A therapy group for losers?
The teacher, an old man with glasses that seemed brutally attached to his folding face, complete with dreary wisps of hair, nodded wisely, like the fuckin’ Sensei. Ya know, the advisor for Leo, Raphie, Donny, and Mikey…The turtles…
They sign you up for this group if you’re socially awkward.
Okay, maybe you have to do some weird shit to get in this group, but…seriously?
I didn’t really sit outside and eat lunch with shorts on…in the winter…on purpose.
And I didn’t dress up like Frank Zappa (complete with moustache) just to be weird. No…it was defiantly a dare.
And I didn’t wear that 3ft and 2in tall purple hat to be an outcast. It was just in my closet.
Why don’t they lock ‘em up in here if they were jeggings? Or aspire to; excuse me while I shudder/vomit/drink/smoke/die of cancer from the smoking or/hang myself from the thoughts, Lady GaGa? Those people need the therapy more than I do. I am perfectly fine. I don’t need this.
“Yes, and these are strong thoughts you have, Frankie?” The Sensei dude asked the guy with the twitching eyes. He gripped the chair so tightly that I could see the whites of his knuckles. His mouth grew tight and his face strayed to a shade of red that’s just not natural.
“I don’t like it when people call me Frankie,” He said in a low and menacing voice. Honestly, I felt he was going to jump out of the seat and eat the Sensei’s face off. The dude just chuckled.
“Well, Frankie,” he made sure of it. He said Frank-IE. Frank was losing his mind. “We all have to deal with some things that we don’t like in life. Now, are these violent thoughts you have?” He asked as Frank glared hard at the floor, his stare seeming to penetrate the surface. Now, the poor floor, it seemed so scared, I swear a shitload of money; I saw it shrink under his gaze. “Frankie, are you with us?”
This is the moment where the chick about to get eaten by the shark in Jaws would scream.
And Mr. Whateverhisnamewas did.
Frank leaped at him, started to shake his shoulders.
“Bastard!” He yelled, punching the old guys’ face. “Pervert!” At this moment, the complete crew of us, six, watched in awe. Someone finally had the guts to lash out at this sick guy. The kid next to me, a girl with lazy brown eyes covered by glasses and dark, dark, dark brown curly hair turned to me and laughed.
“I think Frank is having some red thoughts about Mr. Hutcher,” She laughed and I started laughing, my normal hyena laugh. We sat there, clutching our stomachs, the six of us, laughing while Frank was killing poor Sensei.
Yes, as sick as it sounds, we were in fact laughing.
But there was always something weird about the guy.
He was too…preachy? Campy? Odd?
Well, Frank did eventually rip his face off.
And we all stopped laughing as we stared in awe at the body before us.
Frank stood, huffing and puffing, face red and brows furrowed.
We were all like, what the hell in unison.
Until, Frank started freaking out and pacing around the room, still holding the part of the face he’d ripped off. He mumbled incoherently while playing with the strings on his fingers. Yeah, he may have been a bit insane.
But, wouldn’t you be if you saw a sparking robot face underneath what you’ve thought was human flesh?
Cliff hanger? I think yes!
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