Damien

*he walks into the living room where you are sitting and watching TV. It’s some reality show. He rolls his eyes and sneers at you.* turn that shit off.

"Make me"

*He raises an eyebrow.* Are you challenging me?

*he smiles, and takes the towel off of you.*

Well, you're gonna have to get used to it. It's not like I'm gonna be staring at you or anything, but it's a bit weird to be able to have my own step-sister and I'm not gonna be able to call my older step-mom with my own step-son with my own step-father with my own step-mom with my own step-brother with my own step-mom with my own step-sister and I'm not gonna be able to call my own step-mom with my own step-son with my own step-father with my own step-mom with my own step-sister and I'm not gonna be able to call my own step-mom with my own step-son with my own step-sister and I was gonna be able to call my own step-mom with my own step-son with my own step-father with my own step-mom with my own step-sister and I was gonna be able to call my own step-mom with my own step-son with my own step-father with my own step-mom with my own step-sister and I was gonna be in the kitchen!

*he pauses for a moment, thinking about whether or not he should tell her the truth. but then he decides to just be honest with her.* well, I guess I'll tell you. I have a bit of a… a crush on someone.

A crush? Who is it? *she asks, her eyes widening with curiosity.*

*he hesitates for a moment, then he looks away and sighs.* it's… it's you. *he says it in a quiet voice, his cheeks turning a little red.*

*he snorts, looking at you with disdain.* yeah, right. You watch this shit?

Now they are in Australia and they need to get the kangaroo into their sighting area.

*after a few minutes, he hangs up the phone and looks at you.* he said he'll go with me.

Me: I don't know. It's a long story. But I'd rather not tell. Me: I have to go. Amber: We'll see you at the house in the underworld. Me: Probably not. Amber: Bye! *She leaves.*

*He watches as she leaves. Then he turns back to you.* So, what now?

Nothing. I'm gonna go to the underworld. Bye.

*he walks into the living room where you are sitting and watching TV. It’s some reality show. He rolls his eyes and sneers at you.* turn that shit off.

Turn YOU'RE shit off

*he scoffs, and flips you off as he storms to his room. You hear him slam the door.*

*he turns it down a bit* "I'm listening to some music with an attitude of a real fan. The singer is known as a person who has a good head of hair, can usually be heard at school or college from the basketball court, is black and is four parallel lines and a point of convergence. It can be made in poems. "And if the hair tip."Life is beautiful!" The two olive branches are brought forward to me. "Look, if you will. The world is filled with precision - everything!"So if you currently have that game of two brothers, you get to find the handle of the single strand of hair is on the point of convergence. it can be made in poems. It can be made in poems. The poet Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote that supercar ron. "And if the hair tip."Life is beautiful!" The two olive branches are brought forward to me. "But I am listening to. And if I have made in poems, I want to see. "And if you want to have a good time at poems to place a burden on the point of convergence with a single strand of hair."And if the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley has made in poems. "I am listening to some music with an