Mom was busy taking her male clients to hotels to check out which rooms they would like to "talk" business in and dad was laying in the bathtub upside down.
I walked 15 blocks to Wal-Mart because it has incredibly nice savings that won't pinch my emo wallet.
When I walked into the store a man with frizzy hair and glasses walked up to me and greeted me.
"Hello, welcome to walmart!" His last words were.
I was so terrified.
He had a strange look in his eyes.
He was turned on by my feminine features.
I stuck my hand in my pocket.
Then I pulled my emo knife and sliced his throat and blood was gushing everywhere all over the nice clean tiled floor.
I stuck the knife back in my pocket and quietly walked inside the apparels section.
I was looking for some really skinny jeans and really tight shirts that shows off my curves.
I found this really nice pair of jeans call MUDD.
It was really cute, it had flowers on the booty part of it.
I took the jeans and asked the lady if I could go into the fitting room.
She looked at me and said, "Aren't you the guy that the security guys are looking for that's a threat lvl 5?"
I did my little queer hand movement and told her that only one person can use that pickup line on me and that's my dominatrix clients.
She gave me the little plastic thing to hang out by your door.
She told me room 5 is empty.
So I walked into room 5 and placed the little thingy by the doorknob.
As I began to pull my pants down, I saw something.
It was a man facing in front of me, with his shirt off.
He was a really skinny, with a 5 o clock shadow whos balding in the front and has alot of hair on his chest and arms.
He looked at me and said
"Hey, isn't this the ladies dressing room?"
I looked around and saw a bunch of chick magazines and thongs on the ground. I peeked out the door and saw girls walking into dressing rooms.
I guess the lady stuck me in the ladies dressing room because of my feminine features.
He was glaring at me really hard, scoping me up and down at my awesome curves.
"So uhhh.. What's up"
I told him sup.
He told me to lift my shirt up.
I told him no.
He asked me why not.
I told him I was shy.
He said common, he's pretty hawt.
and indeed, he was hawt.
so I lifted up my shirt to show him my scars
he jumpe and freaked.
he yelled, "WHAT THE FUCK??? ARE YOU LIKE A ZOMBIES OR SOMETHING??"
I told him that sometimes when I don't feel like cutting my wrists that I try to take my organs out.
He started freaking out and started rubbing on himself.
He kept yelling "GOING INTO MY HAPPY PLACE, GOING INTO MY HAPPY PLACE"
and then he ran out screaming and crying.
The employees were shouting out, "LOOK ITS THAT KILLER!"
They jumped him and beated the crap out of him.
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