The Dark Lord Strikes Again

You know those days, when you just feel like your life is over and you have no meaning. That feeling of worthlessness, that my mom claims she has all the time. I know, I know, this is what Roxie must feel like everyday. I almost feel bad for her. Almost. Because yesterday, I felt worthless, unloved. I was totally the leftover sardines, the forgotten mitten, the Kevin Jonas of the group.

So we were having our very first band practice as the new Mac and Cheese Mermaid (better than eva because now Roxie wasn't in it). I was strumming a one-stringed banjo with my toes, Shrub was blowdrying his hair with a toaster over, Gilbert was trying to eat a Rubik's Cube, and Larry was pretending to be a cat. All and all, it was a pretty normal day. Then, all of the sudden, I was hungry. Naturally I checked my pocket for some left over tic tacs or some old toast, but unfortunately all I found was black lint, which wasn't nearly satisfying enough. So I looked in the cupboard for my panini maker that I had stolen from Rudolph in exchange for a handful of raisins that I'd found on the ground. But gasp! the panini maker wasn't there.
Me: Dudes, what gives?
Larry: I didn't steal your mom's robe.
Me: Not that––the panini maker's gone.
Gilbert: Gasp!
Me: I know!
Larry: Who could have taken it?
Me: Not Rudolph, I hypnotized her yesterday into thinking it's the year 1865.
Gilbert: Then who could it be?
Shrub: I think I know--Roxie. She grabbed it the day the band broke up.
Me: How did I miss that?
Gilbert: You were counting your arm hair, remember?
Me: Oh yeah. By the way I'm up to 127.
Gilbert: That's still way less than average, like you're not even halfway there.
Me: Shut up dude!
Shrub: C'mon bros, let's go about this in a calm manner.
Larry: Let's storm into her house with rage!
Shrub: Can't--it's still being fumagated for woodlice.
Gilbert: Can we at least egg it?
Me: Sorry guys, I used all the eggs last week to clog Rudolph's toilet.
Larry: Aw man!
Me: This is terrible, what can we do now?

Unfortunately, we all knew. There was only one solution.

We had to let Roxie back in the band. We couldn't survive without our panini maker, and we were all too lazy and broke to go out and by another. It pained me to do it, but at least I got my panini maker back. But it smelled like bubble bath.

MAC AND CHEESE MERMAID REUNITES

The unthinkable has happened.
No, Roxie hasn't gotten in college--that's just impossible.
Mac and Cheese Mermaid has reunited.

Now I know you're probably celebrating right now, breaking out the ramen and rolling around in it in an excited frenzy. You're so happy that you don't even care why you're happy. This is the best day of your life. Now let me explain how.

It was a chilly December evening, and I was in my room, eating warm tuna. Gilbert was over, making my bed like he does every Wednesday (I pay him in Raisin Bran). The house was quiet. My dad was watching the game, my mom was at K-Mart, and Rudolph had run into a wall so she was semi-conscious.
Then, all of the sudden, the doorbell rang. I thought it was the late-night mailman dropping off my exotic hair product, but I was in for the shock of my life.
At the door, stood Roxie.

Me: What are you doing here?
Roxie: Listen Percy, I need to talk to you.
Me: If that rat I put in your fanny pack gave you rabies I can't be held responsible.
Roxie: It's about Shrub.
Me: I don't wanna hear it. That guy is paste to me.
Roxie: You guys are best friends–
Me: WERE best friends. As in past tense, as in not present tense, as in not future tense.
Roxie: Just here me out.
Me: Sorry, your voice just sounds like burning rubber.
Roxie: That doesn't even make sense.
Me: Neither do you. So we're even.
Roxie: Shrub's miserable.
Me: Well, I think that's your fault. You're his girlfriend or whatevsies.
Roxie: But I'm not.
Me: Say what?
Roxie: We went on a couple dates ... but I'm not into him like that. We're just friends.
Me: He's still worse than all three Jonas Brothers combined.
Roxie: He won't admit it, but he misses the band.
Me: So what? I miss my cheese grater, but you don't see me going to Jojo's cardboard box and asking for it back.
Roxie: Listen–
Me: No you listen. I'm in honors math, ok?
Roxie: What does that have to do with anything?
Me: I just rubbing it in your face. Which, by the way, is still oily.
Roxie: I didn't miss getting my hair braided at the mall kiosk to get insulted. I just hate seeing Shrub miserable, so I think it'd be in all our interests to get the band back together.
Me: Sorry, but the band's time has passed. You can only throw a cinderblock so far before it hits someone in the face.
Roxie: Fine. I'm done here.
Me: And stay out!
I slammed the door in her face.

Although Roxie is a complete moron who doesn't know toast about anything, she got me thinking. If she and Shrub weren't dating, then why were Shrub and I fighting? There didn't seem to be a reason for our feud anymore. And if Shrub and I were cool, so were Larry and I.
So that night, I sent out a mass email to Larry and Shrub saying:

Hey dudez. I (you're) sorry about everything. Now that Shrub's not dating Roxie, I guess the band can get back together. If you want or something. Cuz I have other things to do. And hot dates. But I mean if you guyz really want, I guess MCM could reunite. And my mom just bought fresh guava, so we could throw it at Rudolph. If you want.
xoxo,
Percy

The next day in homeroom ...
Me: Hey guys. Did you get my mass email?
Shrub: Maybe.
Larry: Yeah, maybe.
Me: Well, what do you say?
Shrub: I don't know. How fresh is the guava?
Me: Two days.
Shrub: And is Rudolph's leg still broken?
Me: Yup––so the fastest thing she can do is limp away.
Larry: Well, I DID just get some new rope.
Shrub: And I did just get a new video camera.
Gilb: It'd be awful to let those things go to waste.
Me: So, are we all cool?
Shrub: Yeah, we are.
Me: Illness.
*4 way fist bump*

So yeah. If MCM was history, Shrub would be Napoleon, Gilbert would be George Washington, Larry would be some other lesser known guy who signed the declaration of Independence, and I would be Ceaser. Because Ceaser always wins. Roxie's Brutus. But wait Brutus stabs Ceaser. So nevermind. Roxie's Voldemort. That's a lot more fitting. So the mighty 4 are back together again and more powerful than ever. Minus Roxie. Booyah.

Oh. And here's a little something I learned in honors math:
Ceaser < Voldemort

Because Ceaser is greater than Voldemort.

A Halloween to Remember

Sorry I haven't written on the blog for so long, my computer's been broken evens since Rudolph jammed the CD tray with fortune cookies. And Jojo crawled in through the air vents at night and broke into our house. He sold my keyboard on the black market and stole my mom's weave. So my computer has not only been broken, but keyboardless.

But good news! My mom has swine! She got it the same day she ate a waffle from the WaffleShack, and she sued them for giving her the disease. Her evidence was that the cashier was wearing pink (go local court!) She used the money to not only surgecially remove her arm flab but by herself a new computer (I got the old one).

So yeah. MCM is still broken up, and I haven't talked to my former BestBroFo'evsies since September when I asked him in science if his leg was red from rug burn or a common rash (it was a combination of the two, fyi). 

But Gilbert and I are still trying to find new band mates. I sent muffin baskets to Celine Dion and Selena Gomez, but none of which have responded yet. But whatevsies.

So two days ago, Halloween strolled by. I found out about Halloween actually the night before when I was chatting with Gilbert on IM (he was explaining to me how to tie a knot if your thumbs are cut off). 

GilbyMasta: and then you do a double sailor knot to finish it off

STUDlypony: ok. i think i got it.

GilbyMasta: do you really?

STUDlypony: no. knots r 4 squarez.

STUDlypony: you wanna egg a Christmas Tree Shop tomorrow?

GilbyMasta: cant im bleaching my cat

STUDlypony: y

GilbyMasta: its Halloween. duh. she's being a ghost

STUDlypony: WHOA. HOLD UP. do you just say 2morrow was halloween?

GilbyMasta: fo sho

STUDlypony: OMG i dont have a costume

GilbyMasta: just be a mouse and put on mouse ears

STUDlypony: lame

GilbyMasta: be a teletubbie

STUDlypony: no way tubbie custard is not cheap

GilbyMasta: be hannah montana

STUDlypony: dude im not being the same thing three years in a row

GilbyMasta: fine don't be anything at all

STUDlypony: ur right. costumez r for wittle babiez

GilbyMasta: y do u spell everything with a z?

STUDlypony: iz coolz.

GilbyMasta: anyways want to just watch scary movies at my place? we got a new scented candle

STUDlypony: im bringing the frozen corndogs

GilbyMasta: And I'll bring the powdered milk 

STUDlypony: soundz like a planz

So there we were on Halloween night, watching Fatal Kittens 2: Revenge of the Me-OW! zombies. Gilbert was eating M&Ms and then spitting them out in a bowl (he loves the taste of them but he can't eat them because he's allergic to circular candies) and I was stalking the Jonas Brothers on Twitter. So it was a pretty awesome nice. Then all of the sudden, a CRASH came! The window across from us shattered, and a rock landed at our feet (good thing we were both wearing wooden clogs). Laughter came from outside, and we looked down to see there was a note attached to the rock.

you r lamepants

This was the falsest thing I'd ever read. I am not lame, and neither are my pants. It takes a lot of courage for a guy to shop at Delias, especially since there is not boys section (but my legs are wicked skinny and no guys jeans fit me). And although the bottom of Gilbert's pants are sewn together (his mom is paranoid his feet will freeze and fall off), they aren't lame either. 

I know only three people who could have done this.

1) Nick Jonas. But according to Twitter he's in Dallas, so this can't be.

2) Jojo. But he's probably dressing up as a kid again to go trick-or-treating and get free candy (until he gets locked up), so this can't be either.

3) Shrub-Larry-Roxie (I count them as one person). My arch foes.

This. Means. War.

[You know something dramatic is going to happen when there is a period after each word.]

Changes

GAH!

WOWZERS. It's been a long time since I've written on the blog. I forgot the password (I knew I shouldn't have written it on my foot). But I remembered it today! But this time I wrote it on my abs, and since I check myself out so often, I'll never forget it. 

 So I was looking in the mirror and was all like "dang boy you one fine piece of meat" and trying to figure out why I've never had a girlfriend with a body like this. And then it came to me, I'm too attractive. Girls are intimidated by me, they think I'm like Edward Cullen or something, and they get to shy to say 'holla'. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I needed to ugly myself up. I know what you're thinking, impossible, right? The thought of me being ugly is like Roxie graduating high school--never going to happen. For advice on how to be unattractive, I went to my mom. Here's how the conversation went:

Deborah Nuglet (Mom): [yelling at someone leaving the front door] I told you, I ain't gonna register to your party! [Shuts door.] Stupid democrats and their stupid democracy. Don't they know that Lincoln was a republican?

Percy: Hey Mom, what do you find unattractive in men?

Mom: Lady parts is kinda a turnoff. 

Percy: Other than that?

Mom: I hate men that do things to their hair. Like dye it or get a perm.

So I walked over next door to my cousin's house to ask Gilbert to give me a perm. 

Gilbert: [on computer] Taste the Staff of Ice Morgorlando! That's what you get for blasting Quando's orb!

Percy: Gilb, I have some important business to talk about.

Gilbert: Is it about Carbon Monoxide Gone Wild? You finally found bandmates for us?

Percy: Not yet.

Gilbert: Percy you're too picky, and we need other bandmates–-fast. Can't we just let Jojo play tamborine?

Percy: And give him a chance to eat my Kid Cuisine meals again? I think not! Besides, he smells like gunpowder and biscuts.

Gilbert: Well what did you come here to talk about with me?

Percy: I need you to give me a perm.

Gilbert: You know I haven't graduated from online beauty school yet!

Percy: But you're the only person I know who will go near my head considering I've had lice four times in the past year. 

Gilbert: And swine. Twice. Can't you just get Roxie to do it? She cornrosed her Golden Retriever last week.

Percy: You know we can't speak to Shrub, Larry, or Roxie. They're the enemy! Wait ... you haven't been talking to her, have you?

Gilbert: N-no. 

Percy: Good, or else I'd have to excommunicate you at our next family reunion.

Gilbert: Please no!

Percy: Then perm my head. 

[Gilbert gets some things from his drawer and starts sticking them in my hair.]

Gilbert: Why am I doing this again?

Percy: Cause, I need to be unattractive so da ladies won't feel uncomfortable around me. 

Gilbert: Are you sure you're not just doing this to look like Joe Jonas.

Percy: Heck no!

Gilbert: Alright, but just to warn you, I've only practiced perms on virtual hamsters before. 

Percy: Whatevsies. Just make sure I'm unappealing. 

Gilbert: I'll try. 

*2 hours later*

[I take the towel of my head. I look like little bo peep since all my white blonde hair is now super curly.]

Percy: Gilb! Did you fall on your head during birth?

Gilbert: What? You don't like it?

Percy: NO, that's the problem! I love it! Dang, I look even hotter than before.

Gilbert: [sniffles] I'm so useless.

Percy: You are. Way to go, you just upgraded me from Zac Efron to Robert Pattinson. How am I supposed to get a girlfriend when I've reached a whole new level of godly?

Gilbert: I'm sorry!

Sigh, if you want something done right, you have to not let Gilbert do it, since he will just screw it up.

Anyways, about CMGW ... not much has changed. We haven't gotten any new songs, lyrics, bandmates or costumes. But me and Gilb are hanging in there (and giving the Enemies [Shrub, Larry and Roxie] the cold shoulder), and we'll find talented people eventually. I emailed Clay Aiken, but he hasn't responded yet. 

Carbon Monoxide: Gone Wild -- AUDITIONS

Holla to my homies and gnomies. Sorry I haven't been writing on da blog much lately. Here are the seven reasons why:

1) I got an iguana and it chewed up my computer wires.

2) Rudolph sat on said iguana and it bit her buttocks so she tried to sue me

3) I didn't have a good lawyer so I ended up in student court with Gilb defending me

4) I ended up having to pay Rudolph $25 and have to kill the iguana myself (student court is cruel)

5) so I went in the alley after the case and ran over Rafael (my iguana) with my powerscooter

6) It was wicked sad, but at least I earned some street cred

7) I had swine. 

But anywhosums, all that stuff was cleared up a couple days ago, and me and Gilbert were holding auditions for our new band Carbon Monoxide: Gone Wild (CMGW for short). And to answer your question, no, Shrub and I have not made up yet. I don't play on it, he left the band and said we were going no where. He stabbed me in the back, and bras don't do that to other bras. They just don't. So whatevs, he can chill by himself, with The Dark Lord (aka Roxie), but he needs to stay outta my grill. And to answer your other question, yes, I am single. ;)

So Gilb and I had auditions today at my house. I put flyers up everywhere. At school, in the caff, in my math class, on the white board, in the faculty dinning room, the grocery store, the gas station, and in a local prison (just in case any of the prisoners get out early and can play a wicked bass). I expected the house to be swamped, people flowing in everywhere. But not a lot of people came, which just goes to show how bad the school system is at teaching kids how to read. The poor things probably had no clue what the flyers were saying. But the kids who could read, came.

We had four auditioneers:

--Minxy: random girl who I didn't even know went to our school. Everywhere except her face is covered with vampire anime which she apparently draws on herself during lunch. She has long dark black hair and is wicked skinny, but keeps like 20 corn dogs in her backpack. She can eat two in 43.2 seconds. Yeah, that's right, I counted. She's kinda weird, and her voice sounds like the Basilisk from Harry Potter, but she can play the tamberine decently.

--Jojo: local hobo. He just came for the food. I gave him some Hot Pockets, then told him to leave. He ran back in a couple minutes later and tried to steal our Blue Ray, but I kicked him out before he could take it, so he ended up just swiping my mom's credit card. Whatever. 

---Daryl: Some weird sixth grader who is apparently a genius. He goes to our school and is in 12th grade math. He gets beat up constantly. He doesn't like communicating with other people, but his mom told him to try new things or else she'd take away his PlayStation and kill off his Sims family. He wears a neck brace, but his neck actually isn't broken, he just has skin issues. He plays recorder. He was OK.

---Malcom: one of the most popular kids in school, captain of the billiards team. He brought his video camera and was filming the auditions to put on Myspace. He said he was making a video about the lamest audition ever and that it would be hilarious, but we let him stay. Partially because there's no such thing as negative press, partially because he brought fig newtons.

We're still making our decisions about the band. Stay online. We'll make our decision shortly.

Mac and Cheese Mermaid BREAKS UP

Young grasshoppers, grasshoppets, I have earth-shattering bad new.

Mac and Cheese Mermaid has broken up.

Please, put the dagger down, and don't commit suicide quite yet.

Not at least until you've heard why this natural disaster occurred.

It's all Roxie's fault.

We were in the garage suite. I was bleaching my arm hair, Shrub was drinking soy sauce through a licorice straw, Larry was playing PocketGod on his itouch, and Gilbert was building a rubik's cube out of Silly Putty. It was a pretty normal day. Too normal. Then I suddenly realized;

"hey, Roxie isn't here."

Shrub: She said she'd be here on our second date last night.

Me: Ew, you went on another date? 

Shrub: Yeah, we had dinner on my uncle's wheat farm.

Me: Did you kiss?

Shrub: NOYB.

Me: Ew! Dude, you can't kiss her you haven't a rabies shot!

Shrub: Her lips tasted like Triscuts.

Me: Dude I think I just puked my Lunchables.

Shrub: Percy, Roxie isn't as bad as you think she is.

Me: You don't know her like I do.

Shrub: Have you kissed her?

Me: Ugh no! I don't a disease!

Shrub: Don't diss it 'til you try it.

Larry: So are you two like official now?

Shrub: She never said anything, but her eyes told me everything. 

Gilbert: Now MCM is going to be awkward.

Me: Yeah dude, I'm going to have to kick her out of the band.

Shrub: What? No! Why?

Me: I don't want you two making out or anything.

Shrub: We won't, we'll be professional. Just wink and giggle softly, on occasion.

Me: Sorry dude, she's out.

Shrub: This is totally unfair. If Larry and Gilbert wanted to make out you wouldn't kick one of them out.

Me: Larry, Gilbert, do you two want to make out?

[Larry and Gilbert look at each other.]

Larry: No thank you.

Gilbert: Yeah, I'll pass.

Me: Then we don't have that problem. Besides, what if you two start making out on the instruments, we can't get drool on our instruments.

Shrub: You let Larry pee in his drums.

Me: That was different. We were at a carnival.

Gilbert: Besides, he bet that carni his powerscooteer, and he could not loose that.

Me: Exactly, it was a life or death situation.

Shrub: Percy, come 'on, we're home bois. Can't you just let me have my way?

Me: Not if its at my expense. 

Shrub: P-man–

Me: Stop it Shrub. There's no R-O-X-I-E in T-E-A-M.

Larry: But there is M-E-A-T.

Me: Exactly. Gilbert, hand me that lamb cabob on your left.

Shrub: Let's take a vote.

Me: If you don't side with me guys, I'll charge you tax on using my band suite.

Shrub: Hey! You can't do that!

Me: Really? Well then go talk to the thirteenth amendment Shrub!

Shrub: Abolishing slavery?

Me: Any person has the right to charge sales tax on his land use.

Shrub: That's not–

Me: Vote time. All if favor of Shrub for support the Dark Lord, He-she-who-should-not-be-name, raise your pathetic hands now.

[Shrub raises his hand.]

Me: All in favor of the the good guys, and kicking Roxie out. Raise your cool, buff hands now.

[I raise my hand, and Larry and Gilb shortly follow.]

Larry: Sorry dude, but I only work part-time at Dairy Queen, and I can't afford sales tax.

Gilbert: And I don't believe in using real money, so I can't pay sales tax either.

Me: I win. Roxie is officially out of the band. 

[I bang my lambchop on the floor to symbolize our decision.]

Shrub: Well, that means I'm out too.

[I spit out my food, going straight towards Larry's un-patched eye.]

Larry: Ow! Aw man now I gotta  wear two eyepatches!

Me: Are you trippin' boi?

Shrub: No, I'm stand firmly.

Me: We don't want you out of the band, we want Roxie out.

Shrub: Well Roxie's my girlfriend. Besides, I don't want to be part of a band where the leader is a dictator.

Me: Hey! This is a democracy.

Shrub: More like communism.

Me: Alright maybe it's a parliment.

Shrub: Dude, it doesn't matter. I'm outtie.

Me: As your former wing man, I'm inclined to tell you that you are making the biggest mistake of your life. We're going to be famous dude–and you can have a part of that.

Shrub: Please, this band is going no where. We have two songs, we only play at your uncle's diner occasionally, we have basically no fans–and we suck.

Me: Blasphemy!

Shrub: No, truthphemy.

Me: I'm kicking you out!

Shrub: But I already quit.

Me: I brought you into this world, I can take you out.

Shrub: I'll be back.

Gilbert (jumps up): And so the lion fell in love with the lamb.

[We all look at him strangely.]

Gilbert: Sorry, I thought we were doing movie quotes.

Larry (stands up): Ya know what? I quit too.

Shrub: Yea!

Me: No! Why bra?

Larry: Cause, nothing's happening. Shrub's right, we're going no where. 

Me: Larry, don't go.

Larry: It's too late, I've already metaphorically left. I'm going to go start my own improv troop.

Me: You're kidding. You're delisional, all those seasame seeds balls have gone to your head.

Larry: No, I think for once I'm thinking clearly.

Me: Bra-

[Larry walks up to me and puts his hand over my mouth.]

Larry: I am not lingerie. 

[Shrub and Larry stomp out of my garage and get on their segways and go home.]

Gilbert: Well, what now?

Me: We'll start our own band, just you and me!

Gilbert: Do we have to?

Me: Yes. 

Gilbert: Fine.

Me: We'll call it something edgy, some dangerous. 

Gilbert: Carbon monoxide.

Me: Exactly. Brilliant.

Gilbert: Sweet.

Me: We'll call it: Carbon Monoxide–Gone Wild.

Gilbert: Why gone wild?

Me: It sounds cooler. We'll do a lot more punk music. Unleash our inner emos.

Gilbert: I don't know if I have an inner emo.

Me: Nonense, everyone does.

[Roxie walks in, drinking honey from the bottle.]

Roxie: Whoa, where is everyone?

Me: You're outta the band Roxie.

Roxie: Whatever.

[She leaves.]

We don't need them. Any of them. Gilbert and I can rock on our own. We'll find new band mate, better band mates, better band mates who don't smell like beef jerkey.

Cause Gilbert and I, were like wolves. Strong, fierce, bullet-proof wolves. Vampire wolves. And like vampire wolves, we never die out. Never.

Rainbow Girls Contest

Guess what? About a month ago, I was really hungry one afternoon and our house had no food. I was too lazy to go buy food, so I decided to eat paper. As I was scarfing down the bills, I noticed that Rudolph got an letter from the NRGA (National Rainbow Girls Association). They say that curiosity killed the cat, and we all know that I am very puma-like with da ladiez, so I opened it. It was asking her, a Rainbow Girl, to enter a national poetry contest. All you had to do was write a poem about friendship. I was about to eat this letter, but then I that the prize was a life supply of rice wafers and molasses. I was still starving at this point, and even thought I am not a girl, or a rainbow,  I decided to enter under Rudolph's name.

My poem was da bomb. Here it is (don't sit down cause you'll just jump right up):

friendship

is a smoothie

of fun

and laughter

and joy

and cookies

sometimes its sweet

sometimes its smooth

but sometimes its a chunker

and is too icy

and sometimes it can get stuck in your throat

but at the end of the day

no matter how gross it is

you are craving that smoothie

of love. 

Today, during my epic finger puppet battle, the mail came. I found a letter addressed to Miss Rudolph Nuglet from the NRGA, so naturally I opened it (it is only illegal to open someone's mail if you aren't famous. I will be famous soon, and let's face it famous people can do any crime they want and not get in trouble). It said she won. Now I'm a lot of things. Hot, attractive, appealing, delicious, buff, talented, magical, and salty. But a poet? I wasn't even so sure. I was in a vortex of confusion. Until the dump truck left 20 barrels of molasses and rice wafers in our driveway. Then things came into perspective for me. 

The first thing I did was cover all of Rudolph's underwear in molasses. The next thing I did was prank call Roxie. And the third thing I did was pour the molasses into a plastic swimming pool and take videos of me swimming in it and upload them on youtube. But the fourth thing I did was think about what I'd done. It wasn't really in my name who this stuff belonged to, technically Rudolph had won. What if she received some trophy or something at her next Rainbow Girls meeting, and had no clue what they were talking about? They couldn't take back the molasses pool, I had already peed in it. Suddenly I knew: I had to tell Rudolph the truth. 

Rudolph's bedroom was across the hall from mine, so instead of walking all the way over there I just IMed her and said: "Hey sis. I entered a NRGA contest and won molasses and wafers under your name. LOL. Your hair looks like parmesan cheese. LMFAO."

She just said: "whatever. You are such a loser."

I took that as a "Yes, keep the molasses and rice wafers, and put them in my backpack tomorrow."

I did as I was told.