Memes Funny Minions Novels & Stories

Perfect’s office is the least comfortable place Kate has ever been in. The counselor herself is no improvement. Filipino kids, with one glance at Ms. Perfect, would arrive at the same identifier: Miss Minchin, from the dubbed rebroadcasts of Princess Sarah, an old-school Japanese anime, and from online memes lifted from the same. This is because Ms. Perfect has the same elongated face and pointed chin of the main villain, plus vintage cat eyeglasses and an ultra-sleek topknot bun. In the Philippines, the identifier Miss Minchin is also synonymous with terror teacher.

“I cannot wait for the day Vera good gets into a fight and Eden would not be there!” “That day will be brutal” I closed the laptop. I opened it again immediately and refreshed. There was a meme now. Someone had taken a part of the video and turned it into a GIF, the exact moment Erica had me by the hair and my face was doing something undignified, and put it side by side with a stock image of a cat being held by the scruff. The account that posted it had no profile picture, no followers, no posts except this one. I knew who made it. WREN!

Easy, careless laughter, the same kind Jace had produced a hundred times over the years without ever once feeling what it actually did to the person underneath it. Something in his chest went white-hot. "What did you say?" Jace's voice came out low, flat, nothing like the version of himself that usually filled a room. The guy blinked at him, still grinning, clearly not registering the shift. "I said Monroe's a joke. You know him? Senator's kid, total...." "Watch your mouth." The grin faltered. "Excuse me?" "You heard me." Mason materialized at his shoulder out of nowhere, a hand landing on his arm. "Jace. Hey. Let's just...."

I checked his temperature and he frowned. Maybe I was exaggerating but being with this man for entire two weeks, I realized that he must have talked only a few lines or a few words. I stared at him and raised my eyebrow. From the corner of the eye, he too looked at me and raised his chin as if questioning me. I shook my head and grinned widely. "Ah! I'm not done yet. So about the cute, yellow minions . . . they like bananas, aren't they naughty?" * * *

He didn’t sigh when she arrived three minutes late to a pitch. He smirked — smirked! — when she called him “Spreadsheet Daddy” under her breath. And then, on Friday, the impossible happened. He laughed. Not a smirk. Not a scoff. A real, low, quiet chuckle. All because she’d Photoshopped his face onto a Renaissance painting for a meme she titled: "Sebastian Mason, Patron Saint of Budget Cuts." It was in the middle of a staff email chain titled “Friday Madness.” She hadn’t expected him to see it.

Sade teased, nudging her. “Shut up,” Isla said, rolling her eyes but smiling. Meanwhile, Marcus was busy dragging Eric and Madison toward the Despicable Me Minion Mayhem, excitedly pointing out every detail. “Did you see that? It’s the Minions! And the Transformers Ride! We have to go on it next!” “We just got off a ride,” Madison groaned. “Can’t we take a break?” “You’re no fun,” Marcus shot back, sprinting toward the refreshment stand.

It drifted back to his voice. You moan so sweetly, Evans… My breath hitched slightly. I pressed my lips together, trying to suppress the memory, but it only made it worse. ‘Oh my God,’ Jane suddenly said, squinting at me. ‘You’re thinking about him right now, aren’t you?’ ‘No, I’m not.’ ‘You are! Look at your face!’ I quickly turned away, grabbing a random pillow just to avoid her eyes. ‘You’re so annoying.’ She laughed.

Mei said, “about half the posts are people yelling that pups aren’t property. Your speech is getting traction.” “Great,” Lyra said. “I always wanted to be meme‑quoted in between cat videos and conspiracy threads.” Mei’s gaze flicked to her phone again, lips thinning. “There’s a thread,” she said slowly, “where some genius is zooming your block photos. ‘Spot the laundromat,’ ‘track the route,’ that kind of thing. Harris and Rhea are already playing whack‑a‑mole with it, but it’s out there.”

“Forgive me.” Then I cleared my throat again and began all over. “His majesty, the king Kerman,” I mumbled. “Why the fuck are you mumbling?” He barked, clearly irritated. “Uhhhh, oh sorry.” I cleared my throat again. “Control that throat or I’ll rip it open!” I instinctively wrapped my hand around my throat, pouting at him. “His majestyyyyy, the king Kerman is hereeee.” The minion slapped his hand against his forehead while the grinch gave me a stink look as the double doors opened.

I winced "I thought you could not even make a sound. I even thought you were a mute." Minion 1 said and slapped me on the face. What the hell? I thought. We were just talking, how did we get to hitting. I was slowly boiling. Another slap on my cheek, then on my face, a harsh tug on my hair. Damn it, I wished I could punch them in the gut. These animals! I bristled with anger. "What can you do princess?" One of them taunted me.