I don't own Glee…if I did, it definitely would NOT be safe for public television…Maybe HBO…maybe…
"This party of yours is going to be Sweeet, dude." Azimio shoved the locker room door open roughly so that it banged against the wall behind it. Azimio was trying to get everyone's attention in the most obnoxious way possible…as usual. Karofsky trailed behind him, smiling at Azimio's diva-like attitude. Dave couldn't help feeling that Azimio was one of the worst, stereotypical caricatures of what it was to be a black American…kind of like that Mercedes chick. The only way Azimio could get any worse was if he walked around with watermelon and fried chicken. It didn't matter to him, though; Az was his best friend and had been since kindergarten. Ever since a certain, chubby, five-year-old had punched a first grader for calling a certain other kindergartner a fat, poopy, butt-face.
"Yo, listen up!" Azimio, keeping the attention he had just garnered from the football team, bellowed. "Karofsky and I are throwing a killah pah-tay at his crib Friday night. All ya'll who ain't infected with the queer-mo" Azimio looked pointedly at each of the male Gleeks occupying the locker room, "are welcome to come. BYOB…bring yo' own b-ches…haHA."
Karofsky and Azimio high-fived each other before Dave took the floor. "Seriously, though, I've got a couple kegs lined up, curtesy of Joe-shmoe and Gabe." Most of the football team…and hockey team…definitely the Cheerios…and, indeed, a good portion of the school were familiar with David's two older, alumna McKinley athletics brothers. They happily supplied all of David's party's with enough booze to drunken a whale.
Cheers and various loud conversations filled the locker room. As David and Azimio made their way to their lockers, Az smiled up at him. "So, Courtney's going to be there, right? She still single?"
Courtney was David's cousin and, aside from Az, his closest friend. "Yes…and she better stay that way. Last thing I need is a fat-ass like you accidentally squashing her." Azimio shoved Karofsky harshly, but playfully, into his locker. Karofsky chuckled internally. Body checking definitely didn't hurt. Why did that queen make such a big deal out of it?
Dave grabbed his equipment bag out of his locker and watched, somewhat amused as Azimio did a little dance around the locker room trying to get a signal on his cellphone. "Damn T-Mobile! Dave. Lend me your phone, I need to call my mom's." David tossed his phone to Azimio, before pulling the last of his pads on.
As Azimio tried to argue with his mom in order to stay out late, Dave shoved his stuff back into his bag and into his locker. He followed after several of his "teammates," aka, people he put up with because he had no choice, leaving Azimio alone.
Azimio made it onto the football field about five minutes later, huffy and pissed. "Not only am I not hanging with you tonight, but now I'm grounded and have to come home straight after practice."
Karofsky openly laughed at him. It was the kind of friendship they had; unless the other was dying or in serious need of medical help, laughter was always the best medicine. "What'd you do now?"
"She got all pissy because I was arguing with her. Screw that crap, I'm seventeen and should be allowed to stay out however long I want, whether or not it's a school night." The two listened quietly while Coach Beiste rambled off some instructions about what drills they would be performing and in what order.
"That sucks dude. You put my phone back with my crap?" The two, along with the team, began jogging over to the tires for their first set of drills.
"What...? Oh, yeah."
Azimio plopped down in his jeep and felt something sticking him in the butt cheek. He leaned over to pull the offending item out of his back pocket only to realize he had both his and David's phones there. "Damn, man." He flipped open his cell phone to call Dave before laughing at his own stupidity. "Aw, well. Not like he's got a girl or whatever, he can wait till the morning."
After Azimio got home and had dinner, he was bored. There was nothing on TV until South Park at eleven and, if he remembered correctly, they weren't doing new episodes at the moment. He pulled out Dave's phone, and started playing with it. It was a one of those Iphone 4s. Dave's dad was an attorney so Dave usually had the newest and best toys. He scrolled through Dave's music making judgments on each album…awesome…awesome…gay…retarded…awesome…never heard of it…she's hot…meh. After that he flipped through Dave's apps…some math game called KenKen (what a dork), an NFL game, a hockey game, a couple ESPN apps for keeping up to date on stats and scores, a doodle pad, a camera, IGun, a Predators game.
Something in Azimio's small brain clicked… camera? Let's see what the shutter bug takes pictures of. He tapped it open; one of Dave's little cousins skating on the pond behind his house, the hours of some store downtown, a picture of a weird looking cat with something captioned below it, a picture of his dad's cocker spaniel walking around with a dead bird in its mouth, Gleeks performing that gay-ass Britney Spears routine they did, a herd of deer in Dave's front yard (Dave lived in the sticks), someone covered in grape slushie, that Hummel he-she in the parking lot, another cat with a caption below it, Hummel dressed like some sort of fairy princess's wet dream, Hummel taking notes in class, a close up of Hummel performing with Glee, a picture of Hummel's yearbook picture (with an effin' heart drawn over it? Oh, Hellll no). Azimio started flipping through the pictures faster and faster: a total of twelve pictures of Hummel. All candid, all creepy. Azimio was pissed.