Tale of a Morooka

It was absolute .

A magnitude of which eclipsed even childbirth. My Jaw clenched in pain, holding back the shrieks of .

Woe is I, Woe is me.

"And that is why fiber is really important for staying regular," said Mr. Morooka. I couldn't take this anymore.

"Are you making faces Jin," screamed my uncle, "Detention is the least of your worries. I'll have you sleeping outside in a tent. Don't think that you being the new kid gives you any privileges." His giant teeth glared , nearly blinding me.

For the last couple weeks I had been living with Mr. Morooka, cause he was my uncle.

Apparently sleeping with the heiress to a mega corporation was frowned upon when your parents worked directly under them. Slight miscalculation on my part.

And that miscalculation got me shipped off to a new school.

But now I had to worry about piano teeth. He was really poking at me.