Caught in 4k with her 72% 
cocoa bar at the refri,
the genZ bro claims fanum tax to
cap that theft.

A shrill 'Imma unalive him' follows, flies the
pants off their
English professor of a
father: Please, kids - don’t be so obdurately vehement.
They gawk: Is that even a language?
With a mouthful, the bruh bro bays: You are such a Karen,
pookie - this one's bussin.
A knife goes up: ‘That BDE is delulu - BFFR, now!’

Those four,
the boy,
the girl,
the chocolate, and the
knife
forces the father into
a carousel, his life saved
by the banger tune of
her phone.

They skrtt out. That’s her E-boy, chief: he rats.
The knife flies faster than the boy. 
She screams: Sheesh. Just a situationship. Periodt.
A 'What's up, fam?' meets their mother's horror look.

Another genZ day has begun. Shapeshifting rapidly.

: Fitcheck, bestie :
: Lowkey mid vibe on that cheugy dress :
: Oof - No cap? :
: Glow up with that boujee shoe :

The boy wants guap. Alien lingo has her head
spinning, the ma is falling apart. 

Hours of Ohio videos eat them into a brainrot.
A new dress with aura has just arrived.
It’s all Gucci now.
The kids jump: The party's gonna be something, iykyk.
That smol Shih Tzu shoulda given me some rizz: the girl goes.

The parents blink. Desperation blights them sanity at this
microshot of a  genZ day.