Yours Truthfully

You know what typo error I think is the funniest?

When you mean 'HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH' but you end up saying 'GAGAGAGAGAGAG'. Because you want to laugh but you end up repeating such a coarse syllable that ends in a choke - 'GAG'. It's interesting how when you repeat 'HA', there is mirth, but when you repeat 'GA', there is unsavoury stupidity. No, no, I have a point to all this.

Dearest.

"Ar-ar-ar-ar-ar-ch-ch-chi-chi-chitect," stammered Dumbass like a complete dumbass. Dumbass was a freshman in St. Jude's, and was one of the school's richest kids. Chauffeured to school, gold-framed lunchbox - still carries a lunchbox - flat,oily, preened hair that gives the face a come-hither-and-smack-my-shitface quality. Of course, his name isn't Dumbass. It's Jonathan Earl The Third. His dad's an investor who has donated generously to the board of directors and - "m-m-m-my m-m-mom's an-an-an ar-ar-ar-ar-ar-ch-ch-chi-chi-chitect," he finished. Took me quite a bit of effort to not laugh.

The dark, chlorinated broom cabinet fell silent.

There was a low, snarling voice to my left, and I knew Brandon was going to have something to say. And so did I. But as you know, I have to say the right thing at the right time. All the time.

I did something horrible today.

"Your mother," began the low, snarling, voice. "Is not Theresa Watten-Earl -"

"Thursday, 13th August," interjected a gravelly, throat-block voice. Brandon was not able to hide his voice too well now, and was forced to choose his words properly. "Where were you?" He has a point. Really. You'll see.

"Th-th-th-th-that's ya-ya-ya-yesterday," stammered Dumbass.

There was this boy, and I didn't like him. At all. But he's yours.

Answer the question. Truthfully. I willed him as though I had some hitherto unknown psychic ability. Didn't work of course.

Truthfully, yours.

"I was in school," he said too fast with too little stammer, revealing more than he wanted to.