Stan's Party: A Fictional Narrative

"I swear to god if you kick the back of my seat one more time I'll throw you out of the car." My hands tightened into fists as I turned around to glare at the pest sitting in the backseat. I was currently in the passenger seat while Taylor was driving. The only reason I was allowing her to drive was because I knew it would annoy Jackson.

"I'm being chased by the cops. Now go," she says, pushing him out of the car.

"Best not to finish that thought," she agreed. Mostly in the interest of getting him to leave her alone, she decided now was a good time to give in and go to that stupid group session. On her way past him, she said, "By the way, just so you know, my husband isn't going to be able to make it this weekend."

“Ok, I will go on. So I stood there at the restaurant and a policeman comes toward me and..”

“WHAT?! Oh my God!” she screamed with a hint of crying. She bolted out the door, grabbing my brother by the arm, started the car and rushed to the hospital leaving Chloe and

“Blake, it’s a dead body, I’m not getting in anyone’s business, I’m doing what any sane person would do.”

“I pulled off to the side of the road and I immediately sprinted to the vehicle,” he continued. “I’ll be honest, I was scared I’d find a dead person in there.”

Before I could even say anything the man driving said, “I know what you are thinking Gregory. You do not have to kill her now that you have heard your life is ending. You are wrong”.

“All true,” he said. “But you deserve a break. When you come, we’ll celebrate your birthday with cake and champagne. My guest house is vacant and ready for you.”

To ward off boredom while she waits, Clemmy Sue slaps the earphones over her ears, turns the CD player to full volume, and closes her eyes and begins to sing along with Dolly Parton. In no time at all, she fell asleep and when she awoke twenty minutes later, she begins to wonder why Estelle Louise had not returned. Therefore, she decides to drive over to the mailbox and check on her. Much to her surprise, the mailbox and Estelle Louise are not there. With darting eyes, she searches the area and soon discovers that Estelle Louise’s home is on fire. Panicking, she drives in a maniacal frenzy, up Estelle Louise’s slippery driveway. Within sight of the burning house, she slams the brakes, and the truck slid into the middle of Estelle Louise’s flowerbed and stops. Frantically, she dials nine-one-one, to inform them that a large, white, delivery box truck had driven straight through

“She has never even had a traffic citation and now a murder case. How did she get here?” Jerry asked.

Scott then throws Stiles computer chair out the away, he then picks up his bag as he look like he is calming down as he looked at us then at the chair "I'm Sorry" he say as he leaves out the door.

Johnny and Steaks hurried to the SUV, while Ryan handed Mary back her gun. “Much obliged, ma’am.” he said. She just nodded nervously.

Ariel got out of her chair. “I’ve heard enough here and I’ve come to one conclusion,” she siad, leaning forward to hold up a finger to Kira’s face. “You’re an idiot.” She stomped over to the pantry muttering something to herself as Kira tried to pacify her.

Nia Rae Dayne pulled her green 1971 Ford F-100 into one of the numerous empty parking spots and let the engine idle. Coppery brown eyes lingered intently on the license plate of the junker car parked a few spaces in front of her. That was the one. That damn car had her driving up and down these backwater roads for weeks searching for it, well, not so much the car but its owner. He was a certain type of fellow that Nia liked to get up close and person with, along with her sawed off shotgun. Bertha was the name, not of the guy, the shotgun. She wasn't sure why she gave it that name, or even bothered naming it at all, but she looked like a Bertha. She (Bertha) had been aching to come out and play with this fellow; he had been calling out for a