Or, read the whole thing here: Little Big Play Cousin – A Big Brother Inspired Ongoing Saga.
I am often afraid of the thoughts that come to me in the silence of night. I never know which seeds of my past will take root in dark recesses of my mind; seeds nourished only by the abject fear and anxiety that haunts my present; seeds that only serve to plant more anxiety, more fear, and doubt. I have grown to know myself quite deeply and what I know about myself is this: I fear fear, I fear darkness, and I fear silence.
What the hell am I even talking about? I am not quite sure, tbh. All I know is that silence has never been friend, nor ally; so, as I lie here, smothered by a beefy muscle-bound arm, trapped in my own HHIC bed, a very teeny tiny small part of me feels… Grateful. Yes, I am almost grateful.
“But why, Sherradonatella? WHY would you ever be grateful for such a thing?” I hear you all asking me in my brain-damaged brain.
The answer is quite simple really. You see, that beefy well-defined, muscly arm belongs to one Linkin P. Bash, and as long as the reverberation of a dozen freight trains sounds from his flaring nostrils, there is no way that silence will win this night. Silence, you are a loser!
I sigh and push my shoulder into Linkin in a futile attempt to roll him off of me. Literally, we are the only two people in this large, queen-sized HHIC bed, but I am still only an inch away from the edge of it! Why the hell is he all over me?
I should have known something was up when everyone else in the house decided that they would forgo sharing the HHIC bed once it was decided that Linkin would be sleeping here, as well. They would rather lie packed like sardines, four to a bed, than sleep up here with us.
I whimper and wonder if I can go squeeze in with one of the foursomes. I mean, I am not the thinnest slice of cake, but I am sure that if I just position myself, just so…
I look at Linkin, but first, I need to free myself!
And free myself, I tried, but the more I push Linkin away, the more he pulls me into his iron grip until, eventually, his face ends up nestled in the crook of my neck. I feel the heat of his breath against me and momentarily feel my entire body flush. Oh my god! Someone, please, help me!
Linkin only stops his snoring to start mumbling.
His first utterance startles me, “What is the ‘P’ for, ladies?”
I freeze. What ‘P’? What is he talking about? Do I want to know?
“Let me get a little taste, M&M,” Link mumbles on with a sly grin. I know it is sly because I can feel his right cheek plumping up against my neck. Oh god, please don’t let anything else plump up against me!
Linkin grabs me even tighter, he pulls himself up until his cheek is resting against my mouth, smashing my lips. I groan.
“That ‘P’ is for ‘pussy,’ broskis,” Linkin chuckles.
My eyes widen, oh baby Jesus, please command he to snore!
“Linkin ‘Pussy’ Bash,” he whispers and grins again.
Linkin P. Bash.
Ugh, he is so disgusting! I scowl and open my mouth; I prepare to bite Linkin’s grin clear off his face, but apparently the heat and moisture of my saliva is enough to finally snap him awake.
“Huh? What? Bro, what the fock?” Linkin pulls up to his knees and wipes his face.
Linkin rubs his eyes and blinks. Then, he fixed his mouth to sleepily say, “Listen, bro, you are hot and all but,” he shrugs, “like, I kind of only think of you like an aunt, bro. My much older, hot, aunt.”
I glare, harder. Is he fucking serious right now? My eyes flit around the dim HHIC room. There has got to be a sharp object somewhere around here! Maybe my stiletto pumps will work. I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I mean, I can hardly walk in them, but…
The door to the HHIC room flies open and Maisy flips on the lights. I freeze. Murderous rampage, averted.
You have got to be shitting me!
“Linkin,” she barks.
Linkin climbs out of bed wearing nothing but a pair of hot pink bikini briefs. “Yea, yea. I know, I know,” he grumbles as he exits the room.
You have got to be shitting me!
Maisy was not alone. Flanking each side of her, like a couple of doucherrific bodyguards, stand Kale and Bill.
“Judy’s out. Bill’s in. You better not be using that VOD tomorrow,” Maisy demandingly proclaims as she tosses her goldilocks inspired mane and crosses her arms.
My mind reels. I am sleepy. It is too late for this shit! I mean, what does she mean, “Judy is out?” As in she is a lesb… oh wait, no… Judy is in one of my alliances! This alliance, apparently. Er. Wait.
I shake my head. This makes no sense. “This makes no sense,” I say.
Why make me put Bill on the block if you don’t even want him evicted, I wanted to ask. I wanted to ask really, really badly. I also wanted to ask why I shouldn’t just use the VOD to take Bill off the block. But, as I said, I fear fear and fear’s name is Maisy right now. Besides, maybe she had not thought that far ahead. While she is as mean as a warthog with its ass hairs on fire, she isn’t necessarily the brightest firefly at the bonfire.
“What do you mean it makes no sense? It makes perfect sense,” Maisy hisses, hands on hips now.
I shrug my shoulders, realizing I don’t really give a fuck. Judy is out, Bill is in. So what? So fucking what? Oh wait, I guess that means that Kale is in this alliance, too! I guess that is cool, I mean… kale greens are delicious! I look Kale up and down. He glares. Eek!
“You have, like, a lot to prove to this alliance after, like, getting Kale out during the VOD and not just, like, letting me win!” Maisy walks closer to the bed, “Tell me you are not, like, using it. Tell me now!” Maisy demandingly orders.
My mouth is dry. I try to gulp, but I can’t. I cannot speak. Fear has got me in a tighter grip than Linkin did earlier. It is okay, though, because Maisy is not finished talking. Silence? Where are you, my dear friend?
“I know that you have been campaigning to keep, Casey,” Maisy snares, “Not on my watch!”
I panick. Did Maisy hear about the hammock meeting? But, how? My brain-damaged brain is swimming.
I lick my lips, open my mouth and, to my surprise, something comes out! “I, uh, have not been campaigning to keep Casey. I swear on my, uh, best friend Raul’s, heart.” I don’t know a Raul. “And, er… on my dog.” I don’t have a dog.
“Then, why were you and Perverstein all huddled up with her on the hammock earlier?” Maisy shoots a couple of arsenic dipped daggers at me with her eyes. I wince. She knows!
I giggle and spew forth a random array of words, “Casey, er… She just wanted to know why I had her, erm… Up the block. Like, and you know. And, I just let her know it wasn’t, you know… And, because…” My arms flail about and land in a shrug. I giggle again.
Maisy narrows her dagger shooters at me and studies my face. What is she looking for? Signs of deception? Is this what an interrogation feels like? Suddenly, false confessions make all the sense in the world to me.
Maisy continues to stare. I fight to keep my facial expression blank, but my eyes have other plans; they dart from side to side, from Bill, to Kale, to Bill, to Kale, to Bill again. Don’t look at Maisy, don’t look at Maisy, just DON’T look at Maisy!
“LOOK AT ME!” Maisy demandingly demands.
I look at her. Geesh. She is so demanding.
Maisy leans forward to hover over the bed; she drops her hands down and braces herself against them. Her face is now inches from mine. I fight the urge to lean forward and bite her nose off. Someone is getting bit tonight, if I have anything do with it! My mouth waters. Either that, or stilettos to the dagger shooters! I would die happy either way.
Maisy snarls, “You know what I want to hear,” she whispers to me with a coy smile. Forget Little Big Play Cousin, this bitch thinks we are the set of As All My Children of the World Turns!
“I will not use the VOD.,” I pushed through my clenched teeth.
Oh, I will be using the Veto of Doom, alright. And, I am going to use it hard.