Sooooo….this week has been, like I don’t know the word for it, but this week has definitely been whatever it is. Dear old Bio-Grandma and Bio-Dad were big on shipping me out to Paris, cause apparently all of Grandma’s “progeny” as she put it are big on the freakiness and keeping said freakiness in the Petrelli family closet. After finding out about Uncle Kinda Cute, Grandma Paris, and Bio-Father Politician and seeing the huge house that everyone but Uncle Kinda Cute lived in, my head was reeling a bit…I thought my father abducting people all over the world with a brain washing Haitian was weird, he’s got nothing on the drama of my biological family. Dad’s not exactly like the most faithful person on the planet and I’m not sure if my Grandmother and Uncle Kinda Cute are sane… I was totally going to leave out of the back door when I heard sobbing and random Frenchiness coming from the front of the massive house that Bio-Gram called “a pitiful little cottage in the middle of nowhere.”
When I walked in, Kinda Cute was lying on a couch, all bloody and icky and stuff. Grams was all stoic and all, but dude, BFP was bawling his eyes out. I hadn’t seen Uncle Kinda Cute in months and he was just lying on the big huge couch in the big huge room with a wet t-shirt since BFP was all whiny over him. I swear this family has issues with causing drama that are beyond me. Uncle Kinda Cute can do what I can do, which means he probably had something large lodged in his head that none of the Drama All-Stars were paying attention to.
I didn’t think just pulling out whatever it was would satify the bizarre emotional needs of the Petrelli family, so I totally pulled an “I just wanna have a chance to say good-bye to him alone, because he meant so much to me.” Then I yanked the huge piece of glass out of his head and big surprise, he woke up! And he was really, really, happy to be alive…at least I hope that’s what that was.
After the great revival of Peter, me and BFP had “The Talk” about how I wasn’t exactly perfect for this stage of his career and for the Petrelli good, I should think about temporarily migrating to Paris. No, I couldn’t just stay out of the public eye like every other politician’s illegitimate child. I have to go to an entirely different continent. Once again, a perfect example of Petrelli Family Drama. I miss my ditsy mother and my sneaky father and Mr. Muggles, who is apparently Grams’ archenemy…when did she have time to make an archenemy? And who has a dog for an archenemy? Sheesh, drama.