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8 Mile {Alfred Jones/America}


America came bursting through the front door of his house, panting heavily with sweat dripping from his blonde locks. Despite this, he was still wearing his bomber jacket.

You blinked at the male country. “What’s your problem?”

“I just… ran 8 Miles…” He huffed, falling onto the cold wooden floor with a soft thud.

Who, in their right mind, would run eight miles in one hundred degree weather? Alfred, apparently. But, he’s never really been in the right mindset, anyway.

You moved to hover over the fallen sweaty form, eyebrow raised. “What the hell’d you do that for?”

“Because I…” huff “wanted to learn how to rap…!” He exclaimed, grinning up at you.

“Say… what, now?” You cocked your head to the side, trying to figure out what nonsense this crazy dumbass was spewing.

“Remember that movie… with Eminem?” He managed to push himself into a sitting position, having regained some of his normal hyperactive energy. His blue orbs were twinkling like that of a child on Christmas morning.

“Yeah… so?”

“They call it 8 Mile for a reason, obviously! That reason is simple. Eminem is a great rapper, don’t cha think? Clearly, the name is referring to Eminem walking 8 Miles in order to become such an awesome rapper!” He exclaimed with excitement, grabbing onto the bottom of your shirt.

You sweatdropped. “So… if you walk 8 Miles… you think you can rap?”

“Of course! That’s what the movie is implying, right?!”

Epic Facepalm.


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