[REQUEST]

Somehow, it always seemed that Evil Joe got his way. Anything, ever. He had that sort of puppy dog eye look, you know?

And now, somehow he had begged you enough to where you gave in, driving him to the playground.

“JOE HAWLEY JOE HAWLEY!”

He yelled, struggling to open the car door before he ran out, his tie almost falling off due to the running speed he went at. Then, as you expected, he got on those springy machines, Spring Riders. He got on a red duck on, swinging back and forth happily.

Why did you always have to act like the parent?