Actually, according to some scholars, Michelle, and myself, they're just fags. (I'm sorry that's an insulting word, but unfortunately I've gotten rather attached to it. Yet another example of why I'm a terrible person.)
Anyway, in English we had to make Hamlet valentines. I hadn't done mine for homework, so during lunch I grabbed a piece of orange construction paper from Kathy and scribbled one off super quick. It was from Hamlet to Ophelia, and read 'Ophelia, Be My Valentine. Even though I don't love you and you're a bloody stinky LIAR of a woman!' Because you know Hamlet would so do that.
When I got to class, Michelle read it and laughed. I commented that I wished I'd gone with my first idea of a Valentine from Rosencratz to Guildenstern. She thought that was hilarious, so I whipped up a really awful five-second crap job on a piece of folded binder paper. "Guildenstern: Meet me at the usual place. Love Rosencratz." (The names might've been switched; does it matter? Of course not.) Michelle scribbled at the bottom of the paper, "P.S. Don't forget the lotion."
Clinton than gave us our vocab test, and when she finished Michelle wrote a greatly improved and enhanced valentine between our happy pair. I wish I had it so I could write it up here in all its perverted, twisted glory; unfortunately, she had to turn it in for credit. But anyway, the basic gist of it was that Rosencratz (or Guildenstern) was lamenting about how tragic it was that this whole nasty king business had come up, because it was preventing him from pairing up with Guildenstern and making for a remote isle where they could be happy lovers all day long. Michelle showed it to Mrs. Clinton, who thought it was hilarious. She kept laughing (and our whole table was in hysterics), and the class wanted to have it read. But first the teacher had to go around the class and hear everyone elses', just to be fair. (I mean, who could top Michelle's?) When Mrs. Clinton read it outloud (Butler was too shy) the reaction of everyone - I can't begin to describe it. Really. I was laughing too hard to take accurate notice anyway. Jessy (you know, that girl I hate on days that end in 'y') turned bright red, though, even though Mrs. Clinton skipped the most graphic line.
After class, we (Heidi, Michelle, and Me) all squished into Butler's truck so he could take us all home, since Kris didn't come to school today. (Meaning she missed Rosencratz and Guildernstern! Don't you feel sorry for her?) There's only two seats so I ended up sitting on Michelle's lap, which meant she got to be poked the whole way with my bony little butt.
You should feel sorry for her, too.