It's not like Michael
to feel this way.
Jason Voorhees seemed, to him, like the loner type, someone who sat in the back of the classroom because he
to, not because he wasn't well liked.
One of the biggest reasons Michael was even harbouring this stupid crush was how revered Jason was- whispers circulating with,
"Did you hear he killed fourteen cheerleaders last weekend at the college bonfire?!" or "
heard that Jason brushes his teeth with his victims' blood before he goes to bed." Of course, Michael wasn't stupid- he knew most of those had to be rumours.
Fourteen kills in one night?! Not even Otis Driftwood, co-captain of the Torture Team, could rake in that many!
Interrupting his thoughts, his two friends came waltzing over to his locker.
"Okay, okay- Mike, you've gotta hear this one," Freddy K.
laughed, slapping his knee, "So I was banging this smokin' hot chick last night, right?
And she's all like- "Stop it, Freddy, I wanna watch TV!" so I was all- "I am the fuckin' TV! Welcome to primetime,
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