Here Come the Drums...

[Private]
Ohgodohgodohgod I'm such a creep. I can't believe I-- with her--

Really, she wasn't all that she was cracked up to be. A little girl pretending to be a woman; how tedious. Now, what I want is to snatch the darling little president away from--

I don't want to-- to hurt--

Whining. Always whining. Does it ever get old? This is why everybody just hates children, you know.

Haha, WHY am I talking to myself?! I must've... gotten high from... from woodshop fumes...

Idiot. Pathetic, simpering--

I hate myself
[/Private]


Does anybody hear that? Whatever it is, it's starting to give me a headache.

...guess it's just band practice...

Um. So. Prom tonight. Looking forward to it, Mohinder? Thanks again for, uh, helping me get in.

Anyway, I didn't hear how last night's game went, but whatever. I'm sure I'll hear about it nonstop today. You miserable little apes obsess over the most RIDICULOUS things

[OOC: Strikes are legible, with effort. The Master's gone a bit schizo because SOMEBODY made the mistake of calling him Master, which unleashed the crazy and the drums, so you might have a Harry response or a Master response :P]

[Meant to be Private, but accidentally left Public]

I wish people would stop making fun of me.