THANK GOD IT'S HAYLEY
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Hayley and Liam get grisly.

It's Friday night and I'm where a rad girl should be, shotgun in her
boyfriend's car with a bottle of everclear between her legs and
N.W.fucking-A. on the stereo. We're doing our usual Friday thing,
which is that Liam picks me up from basketball after school and we
drive around causing some low-level havoc before going back to my
place with some liquor and making my parents' lives miserable. At this
point I don't think they even think of me as their daughter. I'm more
like a housemate--an evil fucked-up housemate who likes to bring her
boyfriend over to terrorize them and knows all their secret personal
fears and dreams, just like family. So I'm the best of both worlds,
like Miley Cyrus once said. Actually I think my mom still deep down
thinks I'm her sweet little girl, even though I'm pretty sure I
wanted to strangle her as a toddler. But whatever. Maybe I am her
sweet little girl. It's just that I duct-taped the sweet part of me to
a basement wall and beat her with a lead pipe until she started
drooling teeth, and then I left her there for a few days and came back
just to rape her emaciated corpse. And that was when I was like 10. I
was way nicer back then.

I take a swig from the everclear (if you mention open container laws I
will cut you open and eBay your kidneys) and chase it with some root
beer, which is the only fucking soda. Then I burp. Liam bought me hot
dogs for lunch and I can still taste them every time I burp. I kinda
wanna get home before that stops just so my mom can smell it. I'm 
fantasizing about her telling me to do something and me belching this
ripe meat-and-mustard smell in her face. It's fun having issues.

But we're running low on liquor and since when we get home we're gonna
need to get fucking TRASHED, like I am talking
puking-in-the-bathtub-and-laughing trashed (god sorry I do NOT know
why I am so gross tonight), we need to stop somewhere. Plus I think
Liam wants a break from the N.W.A.--which I made him put on and which
I don't really think he likes--because Eazy-E is yelling that he's the
type of nigga that's built to last, which for some reason always ALWAYS
gets me juicy, which is probably really obvious because I suck at
hiding things. My therapist actually said that to me--before he went
insane and regressed to infancy--he said like he was trying to lecture
me or something that I was bad at hiding things. I was like yeah
that's because I have no feelings. :( (Then I pretended to have a
breakthrough and cried and told him I loved him and went home to my
parents with him and told them both I was so sorry, and all three of
them completely believed the entire thing. OMG irony.)

Anyway Liam doesn't want to compete with Eazy anymore so he's pulling
over in a 7-11 parking lot and opening the door and grabbing the
bottle out of my hand while I get out and drinking what's left of it
and throwing it into the lot. God damn that boy can drink. (Oh my God
but the Mothers! Against the Driving!) And god damn the air feels
good; I hadn't realized how much I was sweating in there. Basketball
went awesome, by the way, thanks for asking. At this point the coach
loves me so much I think he wants to put me on the boys' team just so
he can watch me make them eat hardwood too. Jocks always dig me. I bet
I could rape someone senior year and get away with it.

Inside the 7-11 it's nice and cool and there is not a single other
person except the clerk because did I mention I live in a
shithole. Liam goes across the store to grab the liquor and I lean in
the corner and watch the clerk, this pudgy guy in a red uniform who is
apparently like completely unable to not look like he is staring at
me. Which is A) hot if you're hot and B) not if you're not, and all
the people with trouble getting this are in column B) so why don't you
just navigate my twisty little logic puzzle yourself to find out what
red uniform guy looks like. If you can't do it, maybe you just learned
something.

Gonna admit--I am in those little blue cotton gym shorts and a T-shirt
I've tied up above my belly button because oh my God it is hot out,
and I'm not CRAZY and I know that girls who dress like that are kinda
asking for it. But liquor makes me aggro. So: "Liiiiiiiiiiiiiam?"

"What?"

"Brandon's looking at me." The guy's nametag says BRANDON. Sorry, this
one should have had a dramatis personae.

"Like how looking?"

"Like oh my God I fear for my safety looking."

He throws whatever bottle he's got down and starts like practically
SPRINTING across the store and is three-quarters there with the clerk
yelling "What? No! No! I didn't--" before they both hear me laughing
and look over. "Suckers."

They both stand down. Liam just looks annoyed but the clerk looks like
he might start leaking from several different orifices
simultaneously. I motion Liam back to get the liquor again and snicker
when he glares. Then I look back at the clerk, with whom I think I
have a bad relationship. Might as well make it abusive. "You know I
could hospitalize you, right?" I say. "Like, on a whim. Someone's
cocky." I lean on the counter. T-shirts don't exactly offer a lot of
cleavage opportunities but that's OK I've got the bulge going on. In
my arms too, these days, actually, a little. I've been kind of
addicted to exercise these days, honestly, which is a personal problem
I should try to fix. But I really could destroy this guy, and I
actually really want to, but remember I also want to get home so I can
mustard-gas my mom which I am for some reason fixated on. (I am not
responsible for Drunk Hayley.) So there's like this BATTLE happening
inside me. Like this is some great-literature shit. Show this to your
friends. Liam comes up to pay for the liquor and I'm just staring at
the guy having this fight within. Which I dunno what it makes me look
like but the guy if anything seems to be getting a boner. I'm a movie
star.

Liam pays and starts walking to the car and I turn to go as well, and
then the clerk says "Wait, you aren't driving, are you?" and when I
look back at him the choice seems so fucking easy. Fuck you, Drunk
Hayley, you perv bitch. "Never mind, Liam, let's kill him."

Just so you know, all that was the sunshine-and-puppies part of this
story. Like we're gonna get seriously fucking dark now seriously
fucking fast, so I hope you're not under 18.

I grab the back of the clerk's head with one hand and smash him into
the counter, which makes this seriously nasty thumping-gristle noise
and leaves a splatter on the ugly lacquer, which then gets on my shoes
because I'm vaulting over the counter and landing on this guy's
chest. Liam is walking slowly back in from the door. The guy is
staring up at me like terrified and it's hot behind the counter and I
get this major sudden urge to take my shirt off. So I do. But look:
here's the difference between weed and liquor. Weed makes me horny,
liquor makes me wanna get my Amazon on. So don't come on to me when
I'm drunk unless you're...

...my darling stud Liam, who shoves me off the guy, grabs him off the
floor, shoves him against the counter again, and jams a foot in his
chest until something in his back cracks. See, this is why I'm in
love. The guy collapses wailing on the counter and Liam vaults back
over and heads for the back of the store while I grab the guy and
shove him against a wall in my sports bra. I get my nose an inch from
his and give him a big smile. "Plead with me, it couldn't hurt."

"I--I--"

"C'mon." I smash his head into the wall. There's a little bit of sweat
on my stomach, I can feel it. The blood is rushing through me. I know
you know me through all this sarcastic bullshit but this is fucking
real, I am fucking flawless, I am fucking SOMETHING. He's trying to 
push back against me and I am not fucking moving.

"Please don't--please don't--"

I lick his face. "Y'know I used to play soccer?" I lower my head and
slam him with the top of my skull; I think it breaks his nose. "Now
I'm really more into basketball though." I spin him around and smash
him face first into the wall like five times, dribbling him. It makes
me laugh. When I turn him around again he's basically nothing but a
pulp. Like I think he's breathing through his cheek now.

"Please--oh God--I have a family--"

Oh my God, here it comes. The big one. The burp so big it fucking
echoes around the store. It tastes fucking SPICY, it smells like a
moist slaughterhouse, and it goes right into whatever this guy has now
instead of a face. Ladies and gentlemen, Hayley, winner of the
Classiest Bitch of the Year award. When I pull away, Liam's standing
there with a can of WD-40 and a lighter, and a second later our boy's
red uniform is going up like a firework.

He tries to jump over the counter again but I break one of his legs
with a kick from behind and he collapses while he tries to whimper and
shriek at the same time. Liam--gorgeous fucking stud Liam--hands me
the new bottle, already open, and I take a big swig of everclear and I
spray it out all over the clerk, and there is this one perfect second
between him seeing me do this and him just BURSTING into full-on
raging fire. Get out your marshmallows, kids. Plus while he burns Liam
totally goes above and beyond into A+ boyfriend territory by handing
me a strawberry Slurpee. The clerk is rolling around on the floor
screaming and the first hit of that shit tastes so good I almost cum.
Not every girl gets dates this good.

The flames were really big but they're dying down now because I guess
his skin is getting kinda greasy. He hasn't STOPPED moving exactly but
let's say he's not moving a whole lot? And his lips, which are moving
but not all that usefully, are full-on extra-crispy. Like I wanna snap
them off and dip them in ketchup.

He's like trying to crawl towards Liam while moaning and Liam unzips
his fly and tugs that beautiful dick out of his tighty-whiteys, and
gets a big thick stream of piss going over the clerk's, um, surface. I
roll my eyes but I mean honestly the reaction is pretty funny, what
there is of it. God, he's rubbing off on me.

I stomp on the guy once before I get my shirt and follow Liam out. The
fire was fucking hot and it's nice outside all over again. I am still
in major Amazon hooligan mode and I think if there were anybody
outside the store I'd actually curbstomp them, but there aren't, which
is disappointing. Liam is getting back in the car and I'm bending my
head back and stretching out and suddenly like half-doing-yoga on the
7/11 curb.

"Hayley, come ON," Liam says.

"You think we should kill my parents tonight?"

"I think that'd be a bad idea." Killjoy. But he's right. Gotta suck my
college money out of them first.

"Boo." Sometimes I really hate them. My mom probably wishes she'd
scraped me out with a coathanger. Just like red uniform's mom
will. I'm climbing in Liam's jeep and Liam turns it on and I just lay
back and bask in Eazy and look through the 7-11's glass doors at the
smouldering corpse inside. "Can we stop and get hot dogs again?"

"We just did that."

"I'm hungry again." Liam sighs. Yeah, whatever, I can't choose. But it's
not even a school night, it's not like we have a deadline. So like
Miley says why not get the best of both worlds? Ah, pudge-faced little
Miley. If I ever get caught I'm totally telling everyone I listen to
Miley Cyrus all the time. That'll be a fun couple weeks on
CNN. Whatever, though, she'd dig it. You can tell she's a little
psycho. Well, I can; you probably can't. You've gotta be trained for it
because these people are REALLY good at hiding things.