12 Days of Emo
There are two ways to tell a story. The first is the way things might have happened in a boring world and where real names could be said a loud. Than, there is the “real” way things happened. This is the “exact” truth.
Kujata was lounging around in her pajamas, something she commonly did at one in the afternoon. She had only been up for an hour, maybe less, and her breakfast was cooling off in the microwave. She was trying to convince the family cat to let her up so she could fetch said breakfast. The cat wasn’t being all that cooperative though.
JuggerDuck had come bounding up the stairs, something he’d always do no matter the time of morning or night. Kujata looked over and stuck her tongue out at him. She was stuck… and rather hungry… JuggerDuck made the same gesture as he saw the food lying helplessly in the microwave. He was ready for lunch.
“Touch it and you die!” Kujata warned.
“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, walking ever so closer to the container.
“Flying cat attack!” Kujata screamed, but the cat only snored a little louder. “But really… don’t touch my breakfast.”
“But it’s macaroni and cheese…” he said, peering into the microwave.
“And… you have a point?” she asked, finally managing to get the cat out of her lap. Kujata made her way around the island-counter and stirred her meal, quite happy with how it turned out.
Akira came walking out of his dark and dreary room, only wearing black pajama bottoms. He covered his mouth, yawning. “What’s for breakfast,” he asked through his yawn.
“Mine!” Kujata hollered, coveting her bowl. She then realized that it was still a little hot….
“Smart,” Akira said, no amusement in his voice. He made his way over to the fridge, poking his head inside. JuggerDuck noticed something before Akira’s head fully made it passed the door though.
“What’s that on your face, man?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” Akira said, his head still inside the fridge.
“Is that… make-up??” Kujata asked incrediously.
“What?! No, it’s nothing!” Akira responded just a tad too hastilly.
“What’s that line…” JuggerDuck said, musing. “O, yeah… 6 pounds of Mak-up.” He started singing to the tune of 12 Days of Christmas.
“5 Razor Blades!” Kujata yelled back, not missing a beat.
“I wonder what other things we can find in his room…” JuggerDuck said with an evil smile.
“No! Don’t you dare go into my room!” Akira said, threateningly.
“Hmm…” Kujata said, tapping her chin. She then led the charge to the confines of Akira’s room. Akira merely glared after the two, but then he noticed the unguarded macaroni and cheese. He decided that would be payment enough for having his room trashed, and sat down to eat.
After nearly an hour, Kujata and JuggerDuck had found some interesting supplies in Akira’s “domain.” Since Akira was as emo as one could be, he had a wide assortment of supplies ranging from the all too common tight jeans, to the stereotypical black eye-liner. With that, the two conspierers began their work.
Kujata went straight to her computer to find the rest of the lyrics to the original song, while JuggerDuck just kept laughing. Kujata then began to put the song’s pieces together… while JuggerDuck started to play World of Warcraft. Every so often a “Are you done yet?” or a “We really need to get that up on Silver Snow!” could be heard from the next room.
After some creative recreations of the original song, as well as some good poundings of the lazy JuggerDuck, Kujata came up with her parody : The 12 Days of Emo.
On the first day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
a pair of really tight pants
On the second day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the third day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants .
On the fourth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the fifth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the sixth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the seventh day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Seven Shakespear novels.
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the eighth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Eight Pete Wentz videos,
Seven Shakespear novels,
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants .
On the ninth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Nine Edgar poets,
Eight Pete Wentz videos,
Seven Shakespear novels,
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the tenth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Ten jet black hair dyes,
Nine Edgar poets,
Eight Pete Wentz videos,
Seven Shakespear novels,
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the eleventh day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Eleven exasperated sighs,
Ten jet black hair dyes,
Nine Edgar poets,
Eight Pete Wentz videos,
Seven Shakespear novels,
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the twelfth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Twelve very long fringe bangs,
Eleven exasperated sighs,
Ten jet black hair dyes,
Nine Edgar poets,
Eight Pete Wentz videos,
Seven Shakespear novels,
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants!
my emo sent to me
a pair of really tight pants
On the second day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the third day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants .
On the fourth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the fifth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the sixth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the seventh day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Seven Shakespear novels.
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the eighth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Eight Pete Wentz videos,
Seven Shakespear novels,
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants .
On the ninth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Nine Edgar poets,
Eight Pete Wentz videos,
Seven Shakespear novels,
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the tenth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Ten jet black hair dyes,
Nine Edgar poets,
Eight Pete Wentz videos,
Seven Shakespear novels,
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the eleventh day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Eleven exasperated sighs,
Ten jet black hair dyes,
Nine Edgar poets,
Eight Pete Wentz videos,
Seven Shakespear novels,
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants.
On the twelfth day of Christmas,
my emo sent to me
Twelve very long fringe bangs,
Eleven exasperated sighs,
Ten jet black hair dyes,
Nine Edgar poets,
Eight Pete Wentz videos,
Seven Shakespear novels,
Six pounds of make up,
Five razor blades,
Four black eye-liners,
Three pints of ‘polish,
Two shrinks a-talking,
And a pair of really tight pants!
