You know, I was pretty pissed that I got sick on prom night and didn't get to go, but in hindsight, it was for the best. I'm alive!
I was there. Carrie strangeled me with a garden hose. On the fortunate side, she got distracted by a cheerleader, tipped some bleachers over on her and forgot about me.
I was in the parking lot getting high. Weed saved my life. Bless the 70s, man.
I was at the prom but then some cheerleader called me fat so I was in my car crying. Then Carrie telekinetically made a basketball goal cut her head off. Who's fat now, bitch?
I think Carrie must have liked me. When she impaled me with this cat, I thought my life was over. But I survived and so did the cat, now I have a friend for life. I guess her life wasn't in vain.
I was like "AHHHHH Carrie NOOOO!" and she was all like mumbling and stuff and I think about her every night and have night terrors. OH GOD! AHHHHH! No...I'm better now.
