Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Pie.
Prompt- Pie from Love_It_Or_leave_It
“Mikey get back here!” I yell half-heartedly at my ‘little’ brother as he crashes and slides along the isles wildly, in his personal go-kart slash shopping trolley, in an attempt to find pastry that doesn’t puff.
Quotation marks used on little because of his gangly legs making him at least 6 ft. at the age of 14. Yes he is a freak in a shopping trolley heading at alarming speeds towards a pyramid of discount soups. Maybe by chance or kindness of the gods he will mi
-never mind.
I walk over to my probably paralysed brother to help untangle him from his own limbs when I see something in his hand. It’s a long rectangular box similar to the ones used to hold tin foil however on the orange box are three sacred words ‘Roll out pastry’. No puff.
I think I might cry. Mikey has tears in his eyes too, though admittedly that could be something to do with his painfully twisted ankle resting awkwardly behind his head.
We make our escape before the shop assistants can mutilate us with their reduced price sticker slappers, Mikey with the ingredients in his hands, me opening the automatic doors using the force and a swoosh of my arms to guide us to safety.
“Great job Obi Wan” Someone, somewhere sneers and I do a full turn, and Mikey has to point before I find them.
Them being a short ass punk kid leaning lazily against the grotty chewing gum specked wall of wall mart’s car park, cigarette in hand ash falling to land on one of his navy blue convers. He would be beautiful, if his comment hadn’t made him a total dickhead.
“Shut up Yoda”
“Oh what because I’m sort?”
“No”
Yes I think secretly because you are short
“Now if you will excuse us we are off to make pie”
The short ass punk kid Yoda raises one eyebrow a smug smirk on his infuriating (if not completely beautiful hypnotic) face. and I let out a humph before slinking away coolly. My attire slightly ruined by my dork of a brother waving to our new friend as we exit.
“So checklist” I say to said brother once we are a safe distance away from the stupid ass hoe in an Iron Maiden t-shirt, and too tight skinny jeans.
Not that I’m really complaining about the jeans, more about him doubting that the force is strong within me.
We stop at a bench so that we don’t have to do thinking, ticking off and walking all at the same time.
“Black berries”
“Check”
“Butter, sugar”
“Don’t call me sugar and check”
I hit Mikey forcefully before continuing, “Roll out non puff pastry”
“Check”
We both sigh at the last one and slump further onto the bench neither one of us wanting to face the great task that dawns upon us. Yes we must climb Park Hill.
The most steep and pot hole filled hill in all of Belleville.
“I don’t want to do it” I cry to Mikey who appears to be staying strong “I don’t want to die” I almost whisper grabbing Mikey by the neck hole of his Dookie t-shirt and staring desperately into his glass framed eyes “you can’t make me do it” I wail as he shrugs me off and starts the decent of hell and other bad terrible things.
“You go on” I gasp after around an hour (minute) of dragging my skinny unfit butt up the devil in hill form.
Mikey is a good few paces ahead of me and he holds his poker face with determination.
“I’ll just take a nap here” I say sinking to the gritty grey floor and landing my butt right next to a used condom.
Nice, classy.
“Gerard get the hell up you big queen we have pie to make” Mikey yells gesturing to his bag of ingredients.
My brother the baking enthusiast. Is pie making classed as baking?
“I can’t, I shant and I wont it’s too painful” I yell back before closing my eyes so I can begin my nap.
There’s a few moments of calm before I feel hands closing around my ankle and- “Ah Mikey geddof me you freak! Rape! Rape!” I scream and kick as my gangly dork of a brother pulls me across the ground and up the hill.
“Don’t be gross Gerard” Mikey’s voice manages to stay monotone even though he is lugging me, his elder brother, up a vertical cliff.
“That’s funny, I had thought you guys were brothers” Says a voice that isn’t Mikey’s or mine but is still annoyingly cocky and familiar.
Hello Yoda. I look up to the vertically challenged, elf wanna be, punk and see right up his perfectly sculpted nose
“We are” I say attempting to make my words at least a little bit intimidating, but my voice sounds funny when I lay on my back.
“Then I’m pretty sure this is illegal”
“And I’m pretty sure your face is illegal” Is my educated and cutting reply.
I rock at smack talk.
“Right” He says and then walks on like this isn’t a death hill of death and… death.
Mikey simply sighs and continues to drag me up the hill despite my protests and claims of rape, after a while I give in and just let him take me.
So you're gonna see this being updated like a fuck load since I'm editing it before I finish C:
“Mikey get back here!” I yell half-heartedly at my ‘little’ brother as he crashes and slides along the isles wildly, in his personal go-kart slash shopping trolley, in an attempt to find pastry that doesn’t puff.
Quotation marks used on little because of his gangly legs making him at least 6 ft. at the age of 14. Yes he is a freak in a shopping trolley heading at alarming speeds towards a pyramid of discount soups. Maybe by chance or kindness of the gods he will mi
-never mind.
I walk over to my probably paralysed brother to help untangle him from his own limbs when I see something in his hand. It’s a long rectangular box similar to the ones used to hold tin foil however on the orange box are three sacred words ‘Roll out pastry’. No puff.
I think I might cry. Mikey has tears in his eyes too, though admittedly that could be something to do with his painfully twisted ankle resting awkwardly behind his head.
We make our escape before the shop assistants can mutilate us with their reduced price sticker slappers, Mikey with the ingredients in his hands, me opening the automatic doors using the force and a swoosh of my arms to guide us to safety.
“Great job Obi Wan” Someone, somewhere sneers and I do a full turn, and Mikey has to point before I find them.
Them being a short ass punk kid leaning lazily against the grotty chewing gum specked wall of wall mart’s car park, cigarette in hand ash falling to land on one of his navy blue convers. He would be beautiful, if his comment hadn’t made him a total dickhead.
“Shut up Yoda”
“Oh what because I’m sort?”
“No”
Yes I think secretly because you are short
“Now if you will excuse us we are off to make pie”
The short ass punk kid Yoda raises one eyebrow a smug smirk on his infuriating (if not completely beautiful hypnotic) face. and I let out a humph before slinking away coolly. My attire slightly ruined by my dork of a brother waving to our new friend as we exit.
“So checklist” I say to said brother once we are a safe distance away from the stupid ass hoe in an Iron Maiden t-shirt, and too tight skinny jeans.
Not that I’m really complaining about the jeans, more about him doubting that the force is strong within me.
We stop at a bench so that we don’t have to do thinking, ticking off and walking all at the same time.
“Black berries”
“Check”
“Butter, sugar”
“Don’t call me sugar and check”
I hit Mikey forcefully before continuing, “Roll out non puff pastry”
“Check”
We both sigh at the last one and slump further onto the bench neither one of us wanting to face the great task that dawns upon us. Yes we must climb Park Hill.
The most steep and pot hole filled hill in all of Belleville.
“I don’t want to do it” I cry to Mikey who appears to be staying strong “I don’t want to die” I almost whisper grabbing Mikey by the neck hole of his Dookie t-shirt and staring desperately into his glass framed eyes “you can’t make me do it” I wail as he shrugs me off and starts the decent of hell and other bad terrible things.
“You go on” I gasp after around an hour (minute) of dragging my skinny unfit butt up the devil in hill form.
Mikey is a good few paces ahead of me and he holds his poker face with determination.
“I’ll just take a nap here” I say sinking to the gritty grey floor and landing my butt right next to a used condom.
Nice, classy.
“Gerard get the hell up you big queen we have pie to make” Mikey yells gesturing to his bag of ingredients.
My brother the baking enthusiast. Is pie making classed as baking?
“I can’t, I shant and I wont it’s too painful” I yell back before closing my eyes so I can begin my nap.
There’s a few moments of calm before I feel hands closing around my ankle and- “Ah Mikey geddof me you freak! Rape! Rape!” I scream and kick as my gangly dork of a brother pulls me across the ground and up the hill.
“Don’t be gross Gerard” Mikey’s voice manages to stay monotone even though he is lugging me, his elder brother, up a vertical cliff.
“That’s funny, I had thought you guys were brothers” Says a voice that isn’t Mikey’s or mine but is still annoyingly cocky and familiar.
Hello Yoda. I look up to the vertically challenged, elf wanna be, punk and see right up his perfectly sculpted nose
“We are” I say attempting to make my words at least a little bit intimidating, but my voice sounds funny when I lay on my back.
“Then I’m pretty sure this is illegal”
“And I’m pretty sure your face is illegal” Is my educated and cutting reply.
I rock at smack talk.
“Right” He says and then walks on like this isn’t a death hill of death and… death.
Mikey simply sighs and continues to drag me up the hill despite my protests and claims of rape, after a while I give in and just let him take me.
So you're gonna see this being updated like a fuck load since I'm editing it before I finish C:
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