I was at the DVD store last Tuesday picking up the week's new releases when I noticed a group of kids snickering. They were of the high school persuasion, with their hair straightened and at sharp, odd angles over their faces. The guys were in skinny black jeantights and the girls all had flat butts and varying degrees of fat stomachs.
"DVD's!" yelled one of the youngsters.
I turned and glared at the group as they snickered, proud of their catcall. Then I turned away and continued reading the technical specifications on the 10th Anniversary edition of Glitter.
"DVD's!" someone yelled again.
I turned and this time I wasn't going to let it slide. I went over to the tallest member of the group and asked him what his problem was. He said he hadn't said anything. Everyone giggled.
"Can I have an autograph?" asked an impossibly short girl with metal in her nostrils.
"Sure," I said, and picked up the tall boy by his gooey hair and threw him into a cardboard stand full of Vin Diesel key chains. Then a fist flew at me from the fattest boy. I quickly ducked and his punch landed on a nearby 15th Anniversary Gas Can Collector's Edition DVD of Reservoir Dogs. His fingers broke on impact and he fell to the floor.
"There's your autograph," I said.
The other boys ran the fuck away at the sight of all my awesome chaos. The girls stayed put, too impressed to move. I asked the too-fat ones to politely leave and took the skinnier ones home with me. I made them all watch Glengarry Glen Ross and then they took turns using their barely legal vaginaes on my penis. By the time they got home they hadn't done any homework at all. They'd have to do it on the bus the following morning.
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