Luan is depressed

>Luan lay the couch and watched the screen's blue-ish glow.
>There was nothing on it, of course, but it was better than having to watch something.
>"Luan! Move your big butt! Your princess needs to watch her shows."
>Luan said nothing and didn't move.
>"Lola, sweetie, leave your sister alone. She's had a bad day, and she needs some time to herself."
>"But mooooooooooom..."
>Let them bicker.
>Luan just wanted to sleep.
>Time passed, and everyone gave her a wide berth.
>Except for Lincoln.
>"Hey, can I do anything for you?"
>"Go away," Luan sighed and growled.
>"Luan, I'm worried about you. You've been like this all weekend."
>"Go away."
>"No. I'm gonna make you feel better!"
>Oh boy. The twerp was gonna make her feel better.
>"Uh, knock knock?"
>Luan stayed silent.
>"Luan, you're supposed to say who's there."
>"I got a better one. Knock knock."
>Who's th-"
>"Eat shit."
>And it went on and on like this, with Luan interspersing each joke with an insult or a deadpan sneer.
>Eventually, Lincoln was tired, and frustrated.
>None of his jokes were working.
>But maybe he didn't need to tell her any jokes.
>Lincoln's eyes widened and he ran upstairs into Luan and Luna's room.
>Finally, he was gone.
>Luan decided to get some sleep.
>The first notes of the video started up on the screen.
>Luan's eyes creaked open.
>The black man on stage was clad in red leather, his stance exuding confidence and hilarity.
>God fucking damn it Lincoln.
>Luan wanted to scream at him, throw stuff at him, tell him to die and carry out the deed herself.
>Luan didn't.
>Instead, synced with the man, she looked at Lincoln.
>"Hey boy, you look good in them jeans."
>Luan smiled.
>For the rest of the night, the two watched the comedy show, hooting and hollering again and again to the chagrin of the rest of the household.