Even without the smell of bleach stinging

Even without the smell of bleach stinging her nostrils, Mary new she was back at her old high school. It was the hallway echoed; she could almost hear the taunts of the other kids

in the hall performing their dorky homo-erotic comedy skits. The PE coach barreled into the hall and told them their comedy crap was a total dead end and that's when

Coach lobbed a dodge ball right into their makeup-wearing, Glee-watching spoilt faces. WHAMP WHAMP WHAMP! Combo hit. One ball ricocheted over each preppy face. Jocks laughed. Coach

-ella had the most violent fans of any music festival. For every Coach with a dodgeball rack, there was a groupie racking up SSF combos with toaster Nunchucks. The mosh pit was

slick with the blood of my enemies. I'd dislocated 2 elbows, shattered a nose and fractured a pelvis, and that was only on my sister while warming up. When I finally got in The Pit

. I was mano-a-mano in a Rushambo cage match to the death. At the corners of the areana were the deadly weapons, Granite Crushing Stone, Sythe Scissors, and Paper Tiger. 1...2...3!

launch a rocket, but I ain't got no rocket to launch" I needed a rocket, fast! And that's when it hit me

. A giant can of soda shaken violently and opened suddenly would make a fine propulsion system. I stole the Red Bull car and strapped myself to the can

after I removed every article of clothing except the used condom I forgot to remove after my back alley romp with a guy who looked like shaft. This is it, I'm forever. God bless!