A/N: I was bored. I dunno. This kind of just came in to my head and I was like, "Whatever, I'll just write this lame stuff nobody cares about down." Tah-dah, so here we are now.

-In this story, Dylan, the voice, Total, and basically anyone who isn't part of the flock are all irrelevant.-

A Moody Morning with Max

You know those days when every single little thing annoys you? When cookies start to disappear into the bottomless pit called your stomach? When you don't feel like jumping Fang?

No, I'm just kidding about that last one. Gotcha going there for a sec, didn't I?

Anyways, it's called—cue the double rainbows and prancing unicorns—the menstrual cycle. Oooh.

Now, if you're a girl between the ages of, I don't know, ten and fifty (lord, that's old) you probably know what I'm talking about. If you're not a girl and you happen to be a person who has possession of a Y chromosome, well… you wouldn't understand. (And God forbid you're under the age of ten—run away before these stories corrupt your mind forever. You may want to hold on to your innocence a wee bit longer.)

At the moment, I was cocooned in my fluffy comforter, sleeping the morning away. At least, I was supposed to be sleeping the morning away.

"Max," I heard a low quiet voice in my ear. I refused to move. It was Saturday, hello. And yesterday was Friday. And the day before that was Thursday.

"Max," said the voice again. And again. I turned my head up and squinted my eyes at an amused looking Fang. I glanced at my clock it was eight in the morning. Early. Too early. I glanced back at Fang.

He raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you sleep like this?"

For his information, I found the cocoon to be quite comfortable. I was warm. I was cozy. I felt safe (well, as safe as I ever feel). And I discovered that laying in a fetal position decreases the amount of pain felt when your uterus is falling out.

Did I want to explain this to Fang? No. Therefore the poor boy was ignored. I closed my eyes.

It was a win-win situation. Really, it was. I got my beauty sleep and Fang didn't have to deal with Moody Max the Terrible.

I was about to fall asleep again when I felt his breath on my ear. I involuntarily shivered. "Max." I could heard the smirk in his voice. I was going to kill this boy if he said my name one more time. "Ma—"

"DAMMIT FANG, LET ME SLEEEEEEEEEEEP!" I screeched, jumping to my feet on the bed with my blankets still wrapped around me. "Before. I. Kill. You." If only looks could kill.

"Touchy, touchy. Geez Max, I was just trying to wake you up," Fang held his hands up. He smirked and said, "Looks like I succeeded," before walking out of my room. I rolled my eyes.

But Fang was right. He had succeeded. And I hated him for that. There was no way I'd be able to fall back asleep after blowing up like that.

I dragged myself into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes. The flock was there already there eating breakfast.

I was in pain. Crap, I thought as I winced. Yeah, I know what you're thinking: the great Maximum Ride can deal with getting shot but she can't deal with itty bitty cramps? Well guess what, Buddy, cramps are in a whole different ballpark.

The wince didn't go unnoticed by Fang. "Careful Ig, Max is being moody again," he said to Iggy under his breath and I poured my cereal into a bowl.

"I'm not deaf you idiot." His response? An eye roll.

As if I didn't feel crappy enough. As if I wasn't angry enough about being woken up so early. I sent Fang a look to say, You trying to challenge me, Fangster? There was a glint in his eyes, Bring it on, Maximum.

I took a slow step towards Fang. Angel, Gazzy, and Nudge watched wide eyed as I advanced on enemy numero uno.

Iggy nudged, uh, Nudge, "Hey," he whispered. "Clue me in, will ya?"

I ignored them as I stood a foot in front of Fang. I took a swing at him, and he easily dodged. Another swing, another successful dodge. After awhile I'm assuming Fang got tired of dodging my sloppy punches (I blame you Uncle Tom, it's all your fault.) because he grabbed my wrists and held onto them.

"You want to feel my pain?" I growled.

Then after that I kneed him hard. Where it hurts. Downstairs? Huevos? His goodies (Lordy, let's pretend I did not just say that.)? If you don't get it by now then you're hopeless—if you actually are nine or younger then don't hold me responsible for the slightest bit of corruption in those lil brains of yours (Although I can't say that I really said anything bad here. So there.).

Fang went down like a rock. Like a brick. Like a stone(r). Kidding on the last one there, again—although, you never know.

And that's why you don't mess with Max.

A/N: Sometimes I wonder if my lameness can possibly sink any lower. Honestly, I think it just did.

Sorry if it was too weird. And/or OOC. Yeah, oh well, whatever.

For the record, at least this isn't really me trying to write a sturdy, good, in-character one shot. Noooo, this was me trying to avoid writing a two-page essay that is due tomorrow. It's 12am. I have yet to start.

This is why procrastinating is bad, children.

Ah! And to the people who are actually interested in my writing (I honestly have no clue what you see in it), I have a poll on my page regarding what I should focus on (Gallagher Academy: To the Max, Falling From the Sky, or a new story… uh, like this one :3).

Adios (oh, and if someone could recommend me some good fics, that'd be awesome. They're hard to find nowadays. I dunno.)