So last night was happy happy hockey night. Best night of the week, really. But before I left I heard Lance and stupidClint scheming on the phone. I knew they were up to no good. But I had so much rage to get out that I HAD to go to hockey.
I took Lance’s car and on the way home I hid it. Kind of like a pre-retaliation retaliation. So I walked home, went around the back of the house, sneaked up to the back door and banged on it as hard as I could. Lance jumped, but didn’t scream like a girl, like I had hoped. That’s when I noticed this:
They went out into the forest, got the damn table, crudely screwed back in the legs (one of them BACKWARDS), painted it, and put it back in my house. It’s back to being “functional” again. So much rage. Then Clint made Lance take a bunch of pictures of him (I’m not sure if that’s exactly how it happened, but I have like fourteen pictures of Clint on my camera).
Then this morning, instead of hunting down his own car, Lance found my keys and stole mine.