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  1. Don’t trust everyone even if they are prestigious

    Ugh, Zef Laliotis is the worst. Don’t believe me? Oh you will! We were all about 5 ft 10 and were skinny. I’m 23 years old and wearing a blue onesie and blue bunny slippers. I’m Chinese and I have my hair dyed pink and worn long. Like, as in it reaches almost to my waist. My nails are kinda rough looking since I pick at them all the time. It keeps them short. My eyes are grey and my have a longish pointed nose. Not like super long though. I’m also in a steel wheelchair. Not stainless though. My parents both have perfectly trimmed nails and black hair that is graying. My mum has a ponytail and wears bispectacle glasses that are superbly thick. She has extremely pale skin and an oddly cube shaped nose. She was wearing a green sleeveless sweater over a white very long sleeved shirt and had black leggings. She had grey knee socks pulled over her leggings and green NIKE sneakers that were very new looking, because she had not worn them since 3 years after she got them. This was her first day. She STILL has not worn them out while footracing. My dad had pigtails and a black bushy beard with a gray streak in it. He had no visible adam’s apple and he had a downwardish round nose. He had brown skin and one purple eye on the left and one orange eye on the right. They are both British and adopted me while I was in an orphanage in [redacted]. I was 11 months old so I don’t remember it. Yesterday I left. During breakfast I called the moving truck and they picked me up and all my stuff too. Now I’m in my new apartment and I’ve put in all my stuff with the help of my friends. Now is my first morning. I’m eating Rice Crispies. I decide in my head It’s probably a good idea to get enough money for art school by selling my paintings to that art master known as Zef Laliotis. I head out the door without finishing my cereal. I put on my coat and hat over my pajamas and get in the new Disabilitated Taxi. it’s a taxi for disabled people. I head over to the town of Bow and ride to this yellow house with two cars under its canopy. I ring the doorbell and it is answered by a 67 year old woman with silver hair. She lifts my wheelchair above some stairs to get in. I observe the breathtakingly attractive house. I wheel into the living room. There is a recliner in one corner and a long couch in the other and many chairs all over the place. The big black tv is on a wooden thing. Under the tv is an Xbox that is black. I look at the couch and I see an ancient bearded genderless being playing a video game. The being turns to me and says: “who are you?”

    “I’m Zelda,” I say, “I’m here to sell my paintings. You’re Zef correct?” the being nods and looks at my paintings that I hold up. “I’ll take them in exchange for $1000.” they run into another room through a hallway and grab a 1000 dollar bill. “Here take it!!!!” they say excitedly. We exchange our goods and I leave with the help of Lorno. I get back into the taxi and silently ride home. I wheel into my apartment through the outdoor elevator and I start a new painting of a purple frog playing ‘table tennis*’ with an orange hedgehog. I take a break after 2 hours and I listen to my favorite rock band Bloated Goatz. It has a guitar playing each note in one strum quickly and eardrum piercing loudly, there is a drum banging repetitively and oddly enjoyably noteless yet beautiful and the singer is screaming gibberish. Then I brush my teeth in my green bathroom with a wooden toilet. The toothpaste tastes like rancid butter and raspberries! YUM! I notice that there is a note on the ground. I pick it up and decipher it. It reads:

    Need a roomate? Dial 888-888-8888 (any area code)

    I think it over and decide to try it. I dial 888-888-8888 and the phone starts spinning around in circles from its vibrating. The phone answers.

    “Vess who is zit?”

    “Um I’m Zelda, I saw this ad for a roommate?”

    “Vess! Zat is good! Hold on vwile I get ze new roommate.”

    “Um okay…”

    A new voice shows up.

    “Yes what is it!?”

    “I’m here about the new roommate thingy.”

    “Jeez finally! I knew somepony would answer the call!”

    “Er-some ‘pony’?” “Yes I like My Little Pony do you have a problem with that?”

    Oh god it’s a nerd, I think to myself.

    “What’s the address, lady?” he says.

    “[town redacted] [state redacted] Generically Named Street house 1114 apartment 18, and you still have not told me your name…”

    “It’s Mark Mark Markson the II.”

    I hang up. One hour later, my doorbell rings over and over again. I answer it. Outside the door is a tan overweight, 25 year old man. He has half his head shaved bald on the left side and on the right side it is super long and sloppily dyed green over naturally brown hair. He has a brown twirly mustache and 5 o’clock shadow. He also appears to be wearing Gandalf the Grey cosplay. Not that I know anything about Lord of the Rings! “You’re in a flobbing stained steel wheelchair! From what appears to be the dollar store!” Mark says.

    “Yes very observant…” I say sarcastically. “Thanks I am!” says Mark. He’s such a weirdo.

    “So are you going to sleep on the couch or outside? Those are your two choices,” I say.

    He stares at me blankly. I head to my bedroom and sleep.

    A day later I wake up. It’s a new day, fresh and new. I go back to my room and change. I put on a pink vest over a blue shirt with long sleeves and I’m wearing blue boots and purple socks and a green skirt. I get down the elevator in my wheelchair and leave. I wait for the Disibilated Taxi. When I get in the taxi I say “Zef Laliotis’s house please!” I arrive at the yellow house and I wheel towards it. Lorno answers it. “Aaaah I was expecting you,” she says. Lorno lifts me up. I wheel into the living room and Z spots me immediately. “Your life would make a great book,” they say, “that’s why I’ve been spying on you and examining your story you are writing about yourself. I also decided I am going to take credit for it.”

    That little bratty ancient being. I flip them off and wheel back to the door. Then I vow never to trust that being again. Don’t trust strangers. Seriously.


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  1. Dark Lord Thomas Pie
    I cut out a lot of stuff. I can recreate the original manuscript though.