J.D. Farwell

J. D. Farwell walked into the room. The floor shook. My shoes fell off.

He ate my lunch. Then he laughed. I cried.

He texted me: 'I’m coming to your house. Bring snacks.' I brought snacks. He brought a army.

He challenged me to a dance-off. I lost. He took my pizza. I cried.

At the party, he danced. I tried. My socks fell off.

He said, 'You’re a sad pizza.' I said, 'You’re a sad person.' He took my pizza.

He talked to my mom. She cried. He got a cookie. I got nothing.

He made my mom cry. I cried. He laughed. I got grounded.

He said, 'Your mom’s sad.' I said, 'She’s not.' He said, 'She is.' My mom cried.