Not a Billabong

“Hey Karen.  Nice backpack!”

“Yeah, nice backpack.  Good one, Lisa.”

“Hey, you guys really like it?  My mum just bought it for me.”

“No dork-face, we don’t like it.  It’s from Target.  Only dorks buy stuff from Target.  You know it has to be a Billabong backpack – if you wanna be cool, you have to have a Billabong one.”

“Oh – hey, give it back!”

“You want it – you come and get it.”

“Here, throw it to me, Lisa.”

“Catch it, Rachel.  Oh what a shame – you missed it.”

“Hey watch out – you’ll break my stuff.  Don’t kick it!”

“Ooohhh, poor Karen’s going to cry.  The bad girls are messing with Karen’s pretty little backpack that her mummy bought for her.”

“Give it back – please.”

“No use looking around for help, Karen.  No-one can see us here.”

“But all my stuff’s falling out – my books.  You can’t do that to books – they’re not even mine.  They’re from the library.”

“Like we care.”

“Yeah, libraries are for dorks.  Books are for dorks.”

“Well come and get it.  Come on – piggy in the middle.  Poor piggy Karen.  Can’t you catch it?”

“I’m warning you – give it back to me now.”

“Give it back or what?”

“Just give it back to me or you’ll be sorry.”

“Nope,  Its mine now.  Arrrggghh.  You hit me, you little bitch!”

“Are you ok Lisa?  You’ve got blood dripping all down your face.”

“What the hell was that, Karen?”

“That was called a straight punch.  Well, I did warn you to give it back to me.  Didn’t you know I’ve taken up karate this year?  Guess piggy Karen won’t be your entertainment anymore.”

“Bye girls.”