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Yes, I wouldnt have it any other way. I decided long ago that you and Bobby would go there.
Really! Chelsea said again excitedly. MacCordum Academy began in Middle School, and Chelsea had just completed the first week of her first year there. That meant Bobby would be starting there next year. As her mind processed this, her excitement turned to disappointment. Did this mean that she would have to wait for Bobby to be initiated in Madames class? She had no idea how she could resist smashing his balls the moment she saw him.
Sensing her daughters disappointment, her mother again alleviated her worries. Dont worry, Chelsea. I have no intention of making you wait to introduce your brother to the realities of life. Chelseas face lit up. In fact, its been quite hard for me these past few not to kick your brothers balls right up into this throat, the little brat.
Bobby had become increasingly arrogant, obnoxious and demanding these past few months, since their father left. A psychologist would have said he was acting out, and would have recommended therapy. Cynthia, the mother of Chelsea and Bobby, had no such sympathy. This boy would quickly learn his place through painful discipline.
As if on cue, the door closed and Johnny entered downstairs. He would be up in a few minutes, he usually would go to his room first to check Facebook on his laptop.
So how are we going to do this, said Chelsea hurriedly. Cynthias mind worked as she surveyed the kitchen. Her eyes stopped on the countertop, to a package of eggs she had out. The devious smile returned. So this is what were going to do
Chelsea explained the plan to her daughter. A few minutes later Bobby came into the kitchen. What are we having, Im starving! said Bobby in the high pitched voice of a pre-pubescent boy. The obnoxious tone grated on both Chelsea and Cynthia. Neither could wait for the moment.
How was your day at Cynthia was cut off by her impetuous son. School sucked! I hate it, why do you make me go! Im hungry, wheres supper?
Your sister is making it for us, she replied. Cynthia was in front of the stove frying up some eggs. Eggs and steak were somewhat of a family tradition.
So Bobby, Chelsea said in as pleasant a tone as she could muster. How would you like your eggs? She already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it come from Bobbys mouth.
Scrambled, he replied, with his back to his sister, half a dozen feet away.
Im sorry, I didnt hear you, what did you say? said Chelsea, as she approached her brother and adjusted her legs into a kicking stance. She had not removed her black Mary Janes. The classic black heels with a rounded but extremely hard toe were standard issue for all girls at the Academy.
Bobby paused and began to turn. I said, his voice was now raised. I want my eggs scrambled you dumb bitch! Johnny completed his turn to face his sister. Their eyes met just as he said the word bitch.