Oh. Am. Gee.
I still can NOT believe I went into XX’s room, threw open his cupboard, snatched the nearest underwear I could grab, ran out giggling then flung it across the floor to the pair of screeching banshees who punished me into this atrocious dare.
You must think I was smoking weed or something. But I was not. Nor did I consume high dosage of sugar. I was just plain drunk on exhilaration. And it manage to fuel two hours of non-stop Extremeties, as Triple K called them dares.
What made me sucked in my breath and bit my cheeks to still my giggles, and strode up to XX to demand, “XX! 你会娶 我吗?!” (Translates to: XX! Will you marry me?!”) Yes, I shouted the question at the poor guy, hands and hips, though I sounded as if I were having a verbal diarrhea. Then, I collapsed laughing at his feet before I could spit out the last word.
To Triple K and LL, even in their twisted and incomprehensibly bizarre sense of fun, I had just made history. Oh God.
You have no idea how surprised they were when I acquiesced to the first dare. The quiet, obedient, mild Ying Hui doing THAT? Pop my eyes out and barbeque them, baby. And I did. They sounded like hyenas throughout the game.
Especially when I was made to bang on R’s door as obscenely loud as possible, then run and take cover once my knocking woke him up and could hear him approaching to open the door. I freaked out, but kept conking it anyway, hesitatingly calling out his name while shooting the two devils the death stare in between intervals. After it was obvious the guy was sleeping like a pig and only a bomb could disturb him, I skipped back to the two, squealing all the way.
“I can’t believe you did that! Didn’t you see him walk past you just now? He was on his way out.”
So I was knocking on a door that would never open because the room was empty, thus pissing myself from fear for no valid reason. What the heck.
Twenty going on twenty-one and my mind has yet to mature, or more specifically, my idea of fun. But I guess I would be enjoying or tortured by this sort of entertainment for a while, and I have no intention of giving this bunch of people up anytime soon; certainly not when they seem to be worshipping me, as of now.
Plus, the amount of laughing I do with them does burn up more calories than if I worked out, e.g. playing the dumbbell viola.
And yay! I’m no longer a freak.
P.S. All names, except yours truly, are censored and initialized to protect the said people.
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