Worstthrust - Blog Posts

Chapter three: And Who Said Love Was Dead? I Sure Didn't.

(Part 2)

Ao3 @Arloooh

Gasping and clutching where her own heart once was, Bryce drops to her knees, putting an arm out to keep herself up. What the fuck was Bobby doing here, he's supposed to be... 

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF HER!" Bobby all but screetches, in a tone bryce had never heard before... Is he.. crying-? Whatever- I can worry about that later, my fucking hearts exploding here. 

There's maybe twenty people around her, maybe a hundred, hell if she knows. 

Gasping and coughing, she keeps her head hung low as arms grapple at her sides and arms. She's wheezing by the time Bobby gets to her, not knowing how he'd suddenly appeared right infront of her when being a football pitch away just moment before. Or maybe it has been long, she doesn't know, her fucking heart is failing. 

Well wasn't this a way to go out, I finally made it to graduation only for this stupid heart to fail after seeing him again. Who said love was dead? 

-

"I SAID, /OFF!/" Bobby yells, yanking prying arms and hands off of Bryce as if she was his to hold. He kneels down as fast as he can, not knowing what the fucks going on but he needs to fix it, and quick. Internally cursing "what the fuck whatthefuckwhatthefuck-" on repeat with staggered breaths, Bobby grabs on to Bryce's shoulder to help her up and off of her knees only for her to groan in pain now lying on her side. When did her face get so pale? When- when the fuck did her eyebags get so dark? Is she a fucking vampi-

"Bobby.." she says clawing a hand across the floor. He looks to her with baited breath, wait this isn't how it's supposed to happen, not like this- THIS ISNT HOW ITS SUPPOSED TO END- "one of you dickbags help me up, and don't fuck up this hair-" she says with that 1960's tone, the sound of authority in her voice that the men around can't help but oblige, but not without Bobby clawing at them to get back while yelling about how "this isn't how it's supposed to end, I'm not- IT ISN'T FAIR!"

And, oh- they're EMT'S. They've been here the whole time trying to pry him off of Bryce. 

"Sir, you need to- stop- sir, you need to calm down-" 

"YOU CAN'T TAKE ME AWAY FROM HER! SHES NOT- I'VE WAITED SO LONG-" He yells as arms surround his and lock under his armpits, trying to keep him still so he can be dragged away kicking and screaming with marks all over his arms from the EMT'S efforts. He can see at least a good ten people surrounding Bryce as she groans for "you to get off me, prick! Fix this, asshole!" But that doesn't ease Bobby, if not make him want to get back over to her even more. 

But he's being dragged away for his wounds. 

"No. You need to calm down and /sit/" the stern, albeit soft, voice of the EMT says, pushing him down onto a bench nearby with the slow fall of two other paramedics lowering him down to sit. Bobby looks to him with furrowed brows and a scowl "..YOU CANT JUST-" His efforts for fighting back are quickly shut down as another puts a hand over his mouth, proffesional, right? Effectively shutting him up. He gives an stern look to the EMT infront of him and slowly licks his hand to give him his freedom back, a devilish smile on his face for just a split second as the man wipes his hand away. But Bobby's soon back to the same attitude.

"Tell me what the fuck is happening with Bryce or I swear to shit I WILL GIVE YOU A FUCKING SEX CHANGE!" he yells, teeth bare and sharp as he tries his best to move and kick out of the paremedics grasp, but before one could get a word in, he frees himself out of their joint grasp after biting ones arm enough to draw blood. What? He was too close. 

Bobby allbeit bolts to Bryces side where she's being loaded onto a stretcher into the back of an ambulance. It wasn't hard to find her when anyone within a 10 mile radius can hear her yelling. The only people by her side are paremedics, not a parent to be found. 

Before he can reach for her, there's multiple men tackling him to the ground before he can get away.

*

Location: 'whatever the fucks' local hospital. 

Bryce is rushed into the loading dock and wheeled through the corridors and doorways, Bobby soon following behind as he sticks to the back of a paramedic, hoping to get in and through to Bryce. He doesn't know what the fucks going on and he can't lose her, not again. He's waitied almost ten years and isn't going to have Bryce ripped away from him again.

But he's soon ushered into a waiting room.. cell? He falls to the hard, cold floor and is met with shutting doors. Scrambeling to get to his feet, he's already yelling and screaming, pulling at the bars of this cage. 

"Calm your ass down. Lady got you down, kid?" A stern voice calls. And glaring to the side he spots an, officer? Something of the sort. Broad and tall, definitely the build of authority. 

Before yelling back, Bobby scowls with an angry expression, one knowing that he won't win this fight. With gritted teeth he gets out "No lady's got me down, and I'm not a fucking kid, shitbag. Why am I here." There's an uneasy rage to his voice that no doubtlessly registers to the officer. 

"Well then what's got you down, son? Mama got hurt?" The man asks with a gruff voice, looking way too interested in what Bobby's got to say that it actually irritates his soul. You're not /supposed/ to care about me. No one does. 

"No.. my fucking GIRLFREINDS HAD SOME SORT OF FUCKING HEARTATTACK-SEISURE SHIT AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCKS GOING ON, SO STOP /CARING/ ABOUT ME AND LET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING CELL!" He screams as his balls fist up while clutching the bars, voice going higher in the way it always has when he screams. Not noticing what he'd said in the heat of the moment, but before he knows it he's being berugantly let out of his cell by a scared looking man. 

- 

Squinting her bleary eyes, Bryce opens her eyes to a bright light and the smell of sanitation. Y'know, I didn’t think hell would be this nice. And then there's a flashing light. 

"-ust? Ms. Tankthrust? Ma'am, we know you're awake." A nurse instructs with the click of a flashlight. Okay, so not hell, but close. 

"What 'd fuck..." she slurs, her signature tone lost to the anesthetic. 

"Bryce, you've had surgery. We had to get a second party to approve your form with your mother denying to pay a fee. Do you know of a Bobby Worst? ..ma'am?" 

Bryce stares up to the nurse with a blank expression, save for her furrowed brow. Since when did Bobby change his name to wors-? "Wuh, I-... I'm sorry, you said a Bobby Worst?" she asks, voice in awe, but now more awake and aware. Her now signature tone present. "Yes. He's here to see you actually if-" 

"Bryce.."

Chapter Two of my Bryce fic: Another Chance To Fuck Up

(@Arlooh on ao3)

June 17th, i've worked so fucking hard to get back into this grey ass state and not even her bitche of a mom will let me talk. It's, not, FAIR. I only know that shes graduating because unique fucking monique and her excuse of a boyfriend have been yelling at each other outside the milkshake mania. I'm trying to sit at the fucking bus stop, not see a whore yell about how she gave her heart to him. Fuck that.

- 

Looking into the mirror of the thrift store changing room, he scans himself up and down, looking for any signs of "hey, I'm fucking poor, mind kicking my ass back to the penitentiary please?" as he forces himself to stand still and stop bouncing on the balls of his feet.

 He's fucking nervous. 

Wiping his hands down his jeans, giving himself a stern and harsh "whispered" talking to (he's been yelling into the mirror for 10 minutes, some employee as been asking him to leave for the better part of that, he won't) and fixing what makeup he has on, he turns and leaves the changing room. Giving a polite "Screw off, asshole!" and middle finger to the worker and swifly walking out without paying for a thing, only after sliding a sick pair of sunglasses off some dude waiting in line. 

-

But all that worry leads him to now, jumping a fence into the graduation event at 'Whatever the fuck' high school, so what if the entery was free, this is cool. 

The first thing he sees is probably the last person he wants to see, Tacky Tammy in the fucking flesh. And god, she looks worse than the last he seen her. That fucking bitch. 

Quickly avoiding that mess, he runs off to the right where he can hear people chatting, yelling, the typical American slang, and to behind the bleachers where he can finally fucking breath. He's only been up a few hours and yet it feels like hes been up for days, all the while having the energy to fight the thing people call god. "Where ever that old bastard is, he sure had a shit plan for me" he hisses as he lights up the last cigarette he's got, stole it from some homeless guy lastnight and yet it doesn’t make him feel any better about it. 

But blasting speakers, which are WAY to fucking loud mind you, go off right by my fucking ear "Five minutes till showtime everyone! I hope you've got your disposables ready! And no /flash/ please, thank you" God. Fucker sound like an asshole to be around, fucks he got to be so stern for. And why the fuck would someone flash the crowd at a high school. This isn't the big bang, we don't need to see that you bleached your ass, Marissa. But shit, 5 minites till showtime. And I was calling it that before grandpa over he did anyways..

He can barely see through the crowd of green gowns and capes to even see the stage from here, it takes him all of 5 minutes to climb out of the prison that is bleachers pressed to a wire fence. Good thing he's scrawny of else he wouldn’t have been able to get out in time to see the show that is Bryce Tankthrust. Fuck. To think that he ever hated her for what happened. All the hate he'd ever bared for Bryce washes away in a second at seeing her up on that stage, when did she straighten her hair? Whatever.

She looks fucking /good/, greens definitely my favorite coulor. Fuck, she can take green if it means he can see her like she is now. Even in a graduation gown. 

And for the first time in a long time, he smiles. Bobby smiles because fuck is he happy. He didn’t /mean/ to look like a smug bastard, even if he is. He's just happy. But nothing ever goes right for him does it. Bryce looked at him, right in the eye, could you belive that? But he just smiled back, but not when her prideful smile turned down and into shock. He hasn't seen that face since.. since he threw up all over her heart, the one that she took out for him to profess her love. Fuck. Shit, SHIT. 

He hasn't ran that fast in, ever. The second he seen Bryce drop, clutching where her heart is (right?) fuck, did he really do that much damage? He didn’t think it was /that/ bad, he just wanted to surprise Bryce after escaping and... he just ran through that crowd. Over the people who were starting to pile up on the stage, he didn’t give a /fuck/ if he got sent back now or to some place worse for doing what he did and all but growling for security to get off her, Bryce was fucking hurt and it was all his fault.

Bobby absolutely took this photo and no-one can convince me otherwise.

A nice date by the beach at the carnival? Yes. Did they kiss at the top of the ferris wheel? Abso-fuckin-lutely.

But looking over to Bryce, he snaps a photo of her. Up high, looking over the sea of people and flashing lights. All Bobby knows, is that if he can't rule the god damn world, he's got something even better in front of him for everyone to see instead. To be jelouse that a woman like her chose to be with Bobby, just some horny terrorist and his evil wife. Her and a super villain, yeah. He likes the sound of that.

Hey!! Just a heads up that my asks/questions are open if anyone's wanting me to write little post/ficlet or situation (as in "sam comes the the realisation that he's not so straight after all because of this, ect..) about any BRCU characters :) but I gotta say, I really do have a softspot for Arlo, Sam and Worstthrust :D

And maybe I'll expand some into full fics because God knows this community needs more :')

I know this is one of Brandons graduation photos, but I can't help but think of Bryce.

I know that little Brycies mam (mom?) Took her out of school when she was around 8, but for the sake of this, she finished school with the double diva diversion ect, still happening.

If anyone was going to be proud of her for graduating, for losing the boy she gave her literal heart to but surviving until graduation all those years later, you're damn right it's going to be herself. Even if her mom only showed up to pocket anything she could from bystanders and try swoon the principle for cash, she's ultimately what got herself here. Not her mom using /her/ sticky fingers to scrape by on rent and steal from former classmates, no, she's who dragged herself through school knowing that she's the one who did that to Bobby. To the boy she loved, loves? Wherever he is, she misses him and her heart breaks more and more each time she thinks of him.

So yeah, you could say she might have had a sharp breath or two when she sees a familiar face across the bleachers by the entrance, looking right back at her with that damn smile. Her face drops from the practised smile it once was, it's been almost ten years, she doesn't think her heart can take it. The shock. Seeing /Bobby/?

She tries to run after being stuck in place, but she drops. She drops to the ground, a hand clutching over where her heart once was as she gasps for air. For air that won't come. Seems like the heart "Dr" Paul, the /mortician/ gave her, won't last a lifetime after all.

She never was good at avoiding stress.

We all know that Bryce was heartless, in all senses of the word, but I think what people fail to notice is how hard the constant work affected her in the long term. I mean, yeah, she's money hungry and wouldn't stop if there was a literal baby in her way, but she has a heart now, her own heart.

Those 30 years of constant upping the anti while working, working, working, and not to mention the /literal/ heartbreak over bobby, has eaten away at any energy and life she's got left. Now she's got Bobby alive, and she's finally seen as a hero again, all the while she finally has some time to rest after 30 constant years of increasingly harder work; but god she must be tired. You can physically see it in her face. You can see how worn down she is between the two pictures, and you KNOW it's not just because of age. Stress ages you ten times faster and god does Bryce have a story to tell.

@steponmebrycetankthrust

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭

Bryce and Bobby are the fucking best.

Their cuddles are warm, and comforting.

Not to mention you get them every night.

Now, when you're upset, they treat you so well, better than they do already.

And they treat you wonderfully no matter what.

But they just treat you like literal delicate royalty when you're upset.

Blankets and pillows galore

Snacks galore

Anything you want, Bryce is screaming at Donovan to go get.

Anything you need, Bobby is racing out the door to get you.

They also give the best kisses.

Now, you may think that Bobby's kisses are sloppy but they're really not.

His kisses are soft and delicate and sweet.

Bryce doesn't kiss often, but when she does, it is extremely romantic.

She prefers to kiss your hand or your chest (as stated in previous headcanons)

Your nightly routine is... something.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥, 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥. 𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭! 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲-𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞, 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦. 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲. 𝐀 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐧𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡. 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐀𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐭. 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐧𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤. "𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐣𝐨𝐛."

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. "𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭, 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐢𝐞?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬. 𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭. "𝐀𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 (11)," 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧 '𝐨𝐡' 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫.