Adventure 2: Owen’s singing Talent (Which is currently non-existent)

“Where’s Owen? We want the Purple Pony story!” The mini-people whined, dancing around my feet. They were, sadly, only up to my waist at best. The story they were talking about was Owen’s inverted version of Thomas the Train engine, but somehow worked in a purple pony as the main point.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go get him.” I replied, silently begging them to stop their squeaks. I took the stairs two at a time, heading for my room, where I knew my friend would be. We always went to mine and Jackie’s room to hang.

Boom boom chik…

What the fuzz?

Boom boom chik…

There seemed to be a vibrating pounding resonating throughout the walls of the orphanage. It seemed to be coming from the end of the hall…

…where my door stood open a crack, strange light filtering into the corridor.

“Owen”? I called out, but he seemed to be oblivious to my voice, which was overpowered by the thumping music. I stepped over to the door and opened it, as it creaked ominously.

Owen was typically inside, but was doing something quite ODD, to say the least. I wasn’t even sure if it was Owen, or if it were some demonic spirit that had finally overtaken the previously mentioned sane part of his brain.

Owen had his back to me, swaying his hips to some princessy pop crap (namely Brittany Spears), and wearing a bra and underwear over his clothes. Using Jackie’s purple brush as a microphone, he lip-sang to the music as I stood in bewildered horror.

The said dancing freak turned around, the music still playing. The disco ball (where did he get that?) hanging from the ceiling reflected light off of his sparkly red lip gloss (once again- Jackie’s).

“WHAT THE FUDGE?” I yelled as the music ended. Owen opened his green eyes to see me frozen in sincere fear as the whole orphanage listened to me scream at him.

Owen looked distraught somewhat, being discovered while wearing make-up and woman’s lingerie.

“IS THAT MY BRA!?”

Owen looked down at the red lacy thing around his chest, which made up his non-existent boobs.

“Since when did you go to Victoria’s Secret without me?” He asked girlishly.

“WHAT THE HECK?!”

Mathias, while downstairs, looked over to Jackie, perplexed and truly confused.

“EEEEK!”

Owen jumped off the small balcony protruding from the building –one of the few, I might add. I ran to the railing, leaning over in time to see Owen’s brown head falling.

“WE’RE ON THE FOURTH FLOOR YOU MORON!” I shouted at him as he –strangely- disappeared from view.

A voice echoed off the building’s brick walls and reached my ears. “Idiot!” Owen had called back at me.

“ARG! IMBECILE!”

Mathias shouted up the stairs. “BLASTED FOOLS!”

~Two Days Later~

Owen entered the orphanage through the front door, completely unscathed from his two-day expedition, interrupting the orphans' dinner.

Everyone fell silent as he stomped the snow off his slippers, and hung up my bra –which I was going to burn later- on a hook.

He then walked up to my chair near the head of the table, pointing and laughing. “Haha! You listen to Brittany Spears!”

Jackie, sitting across from me, looked down at her mashed potatoes.

“Owen, you disappearing-Houdini-of-an-idiot-cross-dresser, that was Jackie’s!” I yelled as he ran up the stairs to get changed into some clean clothes.

Adventure 1: The Cow and the Shed

It started on a dark and stormy night.

Well, not dark. And not too stormy. But it was still night. The stars and moon lit up the night, creating one too many shadows. Owen and I were sitting on the orphanage’s shed roof (the random shed that Owen likes to sulk behind). We were discussing Thomas, and how adorable he is.

“God, that kid is so annoying! He’s like a freaking chipmunk I swear!” Owen complained.

“What do you mean? He’s so adorable! No one can not like him.”

“What’s with girls and ‘adorable’ and ‘cute and fluffy’ things?” Owen asked.

“You can’t help but look at his Bambi eyes and see how adorable he is and…and…” I was at a loss for words, and decided to use the one word that Owen hated. “CUTE!”

“ARG! Enough with the cute! That kid needs to be gagged, and you know it!”

“He does not!”

“Does too!”

“Does not!”

“Does too!”

“Is that a cow?”

“What the fu…dge.” Owen trailed off as I glared at him. I pointed to a window of the orphanage.

“No seriously, is that a cow?”

Owen looked more closely at the building, peering at a long shadow that was hanging out of the window. “Oh my god.” I saw him lean further from where he was sitting, squinting his eyes. “It is a cow! Oh my god! A conspiracy!”

I looked at him sceptically, wondering if the very small sane part of his brain was still intact. “Seriously, does it not look like a cow?”

“MOO!” Owen howled into the crisp air.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, still concerned for his sanity. He was known for random splurbs of randomness.

It was quiet after a mooing spiel, until Owen turned to look at the neighbouring house.

“Holy Mother of Jesus and Enchiladas of Goodness!”

“What?!” I yelled out. Now I was going to have to talk to Aaron about my friend’s mental health. I swear, this child was just on the brink of… for lack of a better word, weird.

“A guy is on that person’s roof! Do you not see that?” he shouted out. He was going out of his flipping mind, for goodness sakes.

To humour the poor soul, for perhaps these were the last few days that he may speak in comprehensible words (with Owen, you could never be sure) I looked over to the roof – and almost screamed out a string of profanities.

There seemed to be another shadow, but this time of a lurking man on the tiled roof. To my mind, he seemed to be wearing a grey cloak. It was definitely creepy.

“AAAA!” I screamed out. Owen had jumped up and grabbed onto me, hiding behind my shoulder like the little coward he was.

“Make the cute little Thomas go to him!”

“Owen! This guy, shadow, thing, whatever it is, will kill him!”

“Sometimes Crow, sacrifices must be made!”

“You’re insane!” I shouted out, desperately trying to get away from my crazy childhood friend and demon shadow person on the roof.

Owen was already down on the ground, picking up a randomly walking Thomas, who conveniently (unfortunately for him) was passing by.

“Take the chipmunk!” Owen shouted out, holding the terrified child out before him, as if the runny nosed kid was a shield.

“He’s- not- a –chipmunk!” I yelled out to him, completely off topic to the frightening form of the shadow thingy that had lead to this situation in the first place.

Thomas lifted up a hand while being held up by the frightened teen. Pointing at the shadow, he squeaked, “It’s a chimney.”

He does sound like a chipmunk! I realized. And then realized what the chipmunk –er, Thomas, said, and looked more closely at the shadow man.

“It is a chimney!” I told Owen, hoping that he’d put the poor kid down, which he did, slowly realizing his mistake.

“Oh…” Owen peered closer at the shadowy form that apparently was a chimney. “OH!”

“Aaron says you guys have to come inside for the play. He needs help finding Matt. He’s supposed to be the cow.” Thomas told us, and then scuttled off to wherever.

Owen looked over at me. “Oh, my, god. IT’S A CONSPIRACY!”

“Owen, calm down, it’s not a conspiracy. It only means that the cow was Matt, hanging from a window.”

“How the hell did he get to hang from a window?”

“Don’t ask me, ask him.” I pointed to the still hanging Matt, who was moaning piteously- Almost like a cow.

Owen got that crooked smile on his face as he looked over at me, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Somehow knowing what he was getting at, we both shouted out in mockery to the poor moaning soul hanging outside the orphanage window:

“MOO!”

(yes, we actually were on the shed roof, and yes, we actually saw a cow hanging out of a window, and yes, we actually thought that the chimney was a stalker. Shut up.)

Introduction of the Misfits

Misfits? We never agreed to that!
Anyways, hi I'm Crow. I'm the sane one.
And I'm OWEN!
ANYWAYS....Welcome to our misadventures, where we will write and post strange and hilariously insane happenings that ACTUALLY OCCURRED! Savvy?
We would just like to point out most of these things will probably not make sense in the slightest.
And in that last sentence, Owen spelled 'will' as 'wil;l;', 'out' as 'oput' and 'probably' as 'probabaly'.
SHUT UP! Why do you always have to critique my creative writing style? You spelt 'that' as 'TAHT' so there, little miss perfectionist! >: P
At least I don't think a chimney is a stalker!
You thought it was too at first! I said to sacrifice the chipmunk child, but NOOOOOOO, you had to go all "He's an innocent pure soul of goodiness and two shoes!" Like, wth??
You sound like a girl.
....-.-
Anyways, let's let the readers read on, as is their purpose.
Yes, let the insanity of our lives be told..... Tooth. -coughCrowcough-
You make reading sound like a bad thing. AND I'M NOT A TOOTH, INSANE CHILD!
Moron!
Idiot!
Imbecile!
BLASTED FOOLS!
Wtf? Matt? What are you doing here? This is OUR blog. Go terrorize young children, like you always do. :P
Matt, go sulk in a corner. Owen, to your random shed!
-pouts- Do I have to?
YES! OFF WITH YOU NOW!
Yes....mother. HAHAHAHAHA! -points and runs away-
Ignore the idiotic workings of Owen's insane mind, and read already. If you can, comment. Bye.
See? Ain't she quite blunt?
Shut up, go away, and never talk to me again.
>:P