This fic is not necessarily a sequel, but more of a companion fic, to the preceding "The Diary of Lyle (Or Is It Larry?)" If you haven't read that one, then this is probably not gonna make a whole lot of sense. And even then, not so much.



Monday:

Muggles thinks he's the shit these days, even more than usual. Walks around with his tail all curled up, wagging it, flaunting Doug's bitch like she's something else. I mean Miss Lovegood. You know. Not Mom. Mom's not a bitch. Even if she does love Super Sis and a dog and her new boyfriend more than me. I guess it would be wrong to call Mom a bitch. Doug is kind of a bitch, though. Just telling it like it is.

Miss Lovegood isn't all that. Her and her fucking hair bow. Sometimes I look at her, and I can see Super Sis in her furry little face. All superior, walking all over me with her creepy-ass midget legs. And Doug worships her the way Dad does Super Sis. I don't know, man, I just don't get it.

I walked into the living room yesterday, thinking sure, I'll just crash in front of the tv for a while, and they were just going at it, right out in the middle of the floor. Like that's not fucking disgusting, right? It must be nice to have somebody. I wonder if dogs feel love. I don't think Muggles does. You can just tell. Looking into his eyes, it's like hell opened up, and the devil's staring back at you, daring you to fuck with him. Like, Just try, asshole. I've crapped out worthier opponents after chowing down on Kibbles.

Anyways, I sat down in front of the tv. I mean, I knew Muggles was doing it on purpose, getting off on me being there. Plus he probably only gets it up for Miss Lovegood cause she looks just like him. You can just tell he's that kinda guy. Sick little pervert. So I'm sitting there, trying to watch Jeopardy or Wheel of Fortune or some shit, and they're thrashing around in front of the screen like they're making a porno. And I'm like, fine, sure, real impressive. I'm fucking impressed, does that do it for you? Doggie style ain't so kinky when you're a DOG, dumbass. Let's see if you can make it till this dude gets to the million dollar question.

And he did! And then Miss Lovegood was lolling around, like Oh GOD Muggles, you STUD, with her bow hanging off the side of her head. Like she didn't know what just hit her, but god damn, you know? And I swear to god I thought Muggles lit up a cigarette for a second there, but then it turned out I dropped my joint witout knowing it, I guess when I was watching them. I mean, not that I was watching. Coupla ratty dogs don't do much for me. But you get me. So he was just sniffing at the joint. I sat and stared at him for a little bit, sorta feeling like I was just violated or something, kinda teary eyed, you know? Then the carpet started smoking, and I stomped it out before I remembered I was barefoot. I started crying and I wanted it to be because of my foot, but I just don't know, man.

I'm so lonely. I wish Eyebrows would come back. Or at least drop me a line. I don't get it. Did he leave me too? Shit, I wasn't gonna make him wear the tights. We were supposed to take over the whole world. What happened?

Entry:

Okay, so here's the deal with Thanksgiving. The pilgrims came over on the Mayflower, and hahaha! Naw, I'm just shitting you. But seriously.

Mom came in a few minutes ago and said we're going to Virginia for Thanksgiving this year. And I'm kind of stoned, right, so I'm like, " . . . Cause of the pilgrims?" I don't know, I was thinking roots or something. Historic. And she stares at me, like I'm an idiot or something, and finally says, "Cause of your father. Honestly, young man, sometimes I worry about you."

And it always makes me wonder when she calls me shit like that, like young man, cause did she forget my name? And then I get freaked out, cause when was the last time somebody said my name out loud? Last time I remember, Eyebrows was all like, "Look, Larry, just lay low for a little while, tell your folks I brainwashed you or, I don't know, controlled your body or something. Whatever I do. I'll be back Monday." All out of the blue. Cause he said he had some date with Super Sis in some hotel, which I didn't really buy, but he seemed pretty excited about it, so I didn't wanna piss him off. I mean, he shaved and everything. Dude shaves, you know he's serious. I think he even pruned all the little strays around his eyebrows. They'd go up to his hairline if he didn't do that every now and then. I know, cause I caught him tweezing one time. DO NOT tell him I told you. He will freak out, believe me. I know. I had a doorknob-shaped bruise in my back for a week. He throws people into shit like it's a nervous tic or something. You come up behind him too quiet, and BANG, you're going through the wall Bugs Bunny style. Dude's gotta stop that, I keep telling him.

So right, I come home like he said, and the minute I step in, I put up my hands and start in, "Okay, here it is: Eyebrows—I mean this Sylar guy brainwashed me and made me help him. But I FOUGHT it, right? And we're like mind-melding and shit, cause that's just how I roll, so finally he starts controlling my body. Like that weird-ass puppet guy, you remember him? He was like, I don't know how to put it, fat and kind of rapey, remember? So it's like that, right? And—"

And then Mom is like, "Mister, what are you going on about?" So I'm kinda not sure if she just doesn't care I'm back, or maybe she didn't know I ever left. And then I turn to the left, and there's this dude sitting there with his arm around Mom, and it's not Dad, it's this weird guy with no glasses and this big douchey smile. So he sticks out his hand, and he goes, "Louie, I presume!"

And then I look around--like, this is the right house, isn't it?--and see Muggles sitting there in the doorway, laughing at me, only there's TWO of him now, and I yell, "Son of a SHIT!" and kick the coffee table, and ever since then this guy Doug acts like I might go off any minute. Which is cool with me, don't get me wrong. I'm a supervillain, you know? I should inspire fear wherever I tread.

I don't know. It was a weird homecoming, I guess, is what I'm saying. But that's got nothing to do with Thanksgiving.

All of a sudden I remember, oh yeah, Dad fucking followed Super Sis to college. In Virginia. Cause that's totally normal. Emtpy nest syndrome, shit, just fly over to her new nest and tell her to scootch over a little bit so you can unpack. Problem solved. It's not like you have a SON, you four-eyed bastard. It's not like you have a SON who could use a father figure who DOESN'T sound like Minnie Mouse when he talks to his tiny girl-dog or DOESN'T have a wallet fulla Super Sis stalker shots. Not saying Eyebrows isn't cool, but dude's got some issues, you gotta admit. Son of a bitch, no wonder I'm walking around in tights under my jeans. That shit's not my fault!

I gotta get out of this Virginia thing somehow. Thanksgiving rolls around, last place I wanna be is at a table with Mom and Doug and Dad and Super Sis. Tell you what I'd be thankful for--you can't overdose on weed, that's what!

Tuesday:

I was feeling kinda shitty at dinner. Mom and Doug were being all weird and flirty, and I'm thinking, Son of a bitch, she feeds him one more carrot, my skin is just gonna crawl right off over the carpet and out the door and MOTHERFUCKER where are Doug's hands???

And I'm feeling like nobody knows I'm there, and maybe nobody EVER does, and what if it turns into a repeat of Muggles and Lovegood in front of the tv, right? Only on the table and way more traumatic?

So I blurt out, "I'm not going to Thanksgiving!" And they stop and look around like Who said that? But then Mom recovers and gets all stern and goes, "I'm sorry?" And I wanna shout, "Hey, she's sorry! And just 17 years late!" But all I say is, "I got school."

Which was me being sarcastic, right? I mean, you got that, right? Cause it's pretty fucking obvious I don't have school at fucking dinnertime on fucking Thanksgiving. I mean, wow. Holy shit!

But anyways, I got out of it like I wanted. Sometimes you don't know whether to laugh or cry. Except for Muggles. Seems like Muggles is always laughing.