I met Yell-OH. He’s the guy we all know, who tries to make anything more interesting by following it up with a boisterous “OHHH!” Our chance meeting occurred when I had awoken to the screeching sound of the rusty dumpster door being jerked open. I wiped the sleep from my crusty plums, and for about three seconds, smelled sulfur.
If you’ve ever woken up inside a seven square-foot metal box, with fireworks going off at your balls, I’m sure you can relate. This was followed by a mega-boisterous “OHHHHHHH!!!”
Yell-OH had three accomplices:
Mole CheekDesignated the task of tossing trash into the dumpster. He only said two words to me, and none to the others. I assumed he was bullied into everything.
The HackerDuring smoke breaks, he would cough up every molecule in his lungs. Quite dim-witted, I heard someone call him “Jason”.
Secret FarterThis drama queen frequently pretended to “check up” on me, which was merely an excuse to brown her thong away from the crowd.
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