Challenge of DOOM!

“CROW!! CROW!! LOOK WHAT AARON GOT US!! Play with me, PLEAAASE!”
Owen was begging like a little child at my feet, holding up some sort of game…Dance Dance Revolution, it read.
“C’mon, Crow, it’ll be fun!” Matt, acting a lot more dignified than our insane friend, pushed me from behind while Owen took my hands and tugged me towards the basement, where a TV was set up.
There were two mats, connected to the TV through wires, on the floor. Apparently the game had been played previously to Owen’s grovelling, for the TV was already turned on. A few kids sat scattered on the couches.
“Does this mean…I have to dance?” I asked, horrified. I wasn’t Jackie –I’ve never danced in my whole life! How could they do this to me?!
I guess I was a little stupid. The title to the game Owen held up had the word DANCE written twice!
I will never forgive myself.
“Dur!” Owen grinned stupidly and placed me on one of the mats.
I sighed. I wasn’t going to step away without my pride if I backed down from this. The kids on the couch would call me a sissy! “So…If I win, Owen, you have to do ALL my chores for a month!” I challenged. There was no way he would deny it.
“Sorry,” he said, surprising me. “But I ain’t the one playing. Matt, I think it’s all set up.”
I recovered from the shock slowly, almost too slow.
“…Matt’s going to dance…” I let the thought settle in, then promptly burst out laughing.
“If I win, you have to do all my chores for a month, and vice versa.” Matt repeated my challenge. He sounded confident.
“Okay, but I’ll raise the stakes.” I looked him straight in the eye. “I get this weekend off from babysitting the children,” I told him. “And vice versa.”
Both boys’ eyes widened. I had them there. Without me, they wouldn’t last a day of babysitting. I had to teach them how to change diapers, and do laundry, and other such chores. Mainly, they still had difficulty with it, not to mention that we recently acquired a new member of the ‘family’, a 3 month old girl called Meribelle. Who was loud.
Really, really loud.
Matt and Owen barely knew how to handle her.
But I knew they wouldn’t back down.
“You’re on!” Owen shouted at me. Matt’s eyes widened.
“Owen!” He hissed to his rival. “What’re you doing, you idiot?!”
“I’m not an idiot, moron!”
“Bastard!”
“Dumbass!”
“Retard!”
“Imbicile!”
That was my cue. “BLASTED FOOLS!” I yelled, bringing up a previous argument between the two. "Can we PLEASE get this over with!!!"
"Yeah, sure." Matt replied, all non-chalant, as if he and Owen --who were complete rivals, mind you-- didn't just insult one another.
Perfect sweat-drop moment.
I sighed, and stepped onto the mat of doom, the arrows coloured pink and blue. WHY PINK?!
God hates me.
To be continued...