It was lights out, and Wally found himself staring up at the stars, or rather, the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the top bunk, of which Steve had claimed. Still, Wally was pensive. Maybe Steve had the right viewpoint on the whole thing.
Sure, it was kind of bleak to realize he’d likely never see Earth again, but, really, aside from his collection of matching furniture and a few DVDs, what, really, was there to miss? Strawberries, he supposed. Still, not exactly an overwhelming loss, them. (though it did put an extra emphasis on his regret of not ordering that smoothie when he’d had the chance)
Wally smiled, and even chuckled to himself softly. This wasn’t, he figured, really all that different from high school. Laughing in the cafeteria with Steve… it had felt like old times.
GAAAAGH!!!! GAAAAGH!! AAAAAHGH!! GRAAARK-kkkkkhhhh… tapped Wally on the forehead with a standard-issue whacking stick.
“Heya meat. Welcome to the worst day of your life. Until tomorrow.” The rather slimy, sludgy, large, and generally grotesque organism chuckled, tapping its three digit collection of whacking implements against its other 300 or so hands with a mucusy thwiggidyshthup.
It was for the next couple of weeks, that Wally would be frequently reminded about the things he’d hated most about high school.
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