have a }merry birthday{, lauren!

Long ago, when the four nations lived in peace and harmony, a girl named Lauren was born.

Asian and gorg', she enslaved her hometown by the age of two, invented the "twerk" by age 5, and was crowned queen by age embryo.

Lauren enjoys moonlit strolls, unicorns, and knitting.

Once, she met a unicorn on a moonlit stroll and ripped its throat out with a knitting needle/wand/thing.

Why am I rambling about all of this nonsense?

Because, on this day of darkness and evil, our precious Lauren was born.

Lauren, in all seriousness, you are my baby. I noticed your perfection before anyone else (-kicks Chelsey off of a cliff-), and I hope that this is the best day ever for you!

Tristen Stewart loves you, and you can touch my collarbones whenever.

I'd also let you beat me on ANTM, if you asked.

I'd kill you afterwards and steal back the modeling contract, but THE THOUGHT OF MY KINDNESS CAN KEEP YOU WARM IN YOUR GRAVE?!

It's 1:00 in the morning, forgive this for not being perfect.

But you, my love, are the moon, and I am the stars; I am an inch beside you, yet light-years away.

Weep for me, my love.

WEEP FOR ME.

-looks as Chelsey and Lauren hug and starts to cry as it rains-

WITHOUT ME, HER WORLD WILL GO ON TURNING. HAPPY AND FREE, SHE WILL BE.

-falls onto knees-

I LOVE HER, BUT ONLY ON MY OWNNN...

-takes a grenade bullet for Lauren-

DON'T YOU FRET, MONSIEUR LAURI'. I DON'T FEEL... ANY PAIN. AND A LITTLE FALL OF RAIN... CAN HARDLY... HURT ME NOW. AND ALL I NEED... IS YOU. COMFORT ME; SHELTER ME... AND OUR LOVE WILL MAKE THE FLOWERS GROW.

You are forever the Marius to my Eponine (how does one even spell that?), the Tiffany to my Tyra, the air to my lungs, and the twerk to my booty.

I LOVE YOU, AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY!