MCR Manor

~Some street in Ontario~
Mikey was lost and he knew it. Everywhere he went was the same thing: clothing shops and 99 cent stores. He was wondering if there were any coffee shops here. He was even willing to sink as low as getting coffee from a doughnut shop. Where's a freakin' place where I can get a freakin' cup of coffee? He looked at the $14 he had to buy coffee for 5 people. Okay, we each each drink 5 cups or more so I have to buy... I need a calculator! I hope Gerard doesn't look through my stuff. If he takes my toaster away again I'll do something to him. He better not eat my sushi. I wonder if it went bad already. “Ooh! Ice cream man!"
The bright blue truck was surrounded by little kids when he got there.
“Hey!” an 8 year old said. “You're too old!”
“No. I'm an overgrown preschooler. I like hula-hoops, kitties, and popsicles.”
“Do you have a pet cat?”
“Yeah. She has her own website.”
“Are you famous?”
“Why?”
“Because my mom tells me only famous people make websites for their pets.”
Mikey was thinking about it, but then he remembered how long it was since he could go to a place without someone asking for a picture or an autograph. The kid left after he got some ice cream.
“What you want?” the ice cream man asked him.
“A popsicle.”
“$2.50.”
“That's a rip off!”
“Then no popsicle for you.”
“Then no customer for you! You're not going to get my money!”
Mikey continued his quest for coffee.
I'm so f***in' hot, Mikey thought, I'm gonna die. I better start thinking about my will. He walked into the 100th 99 cent store he saw and ripped out a sheet of notebook paper and took a pen. He walked out, but bought some Skittles so the cashiers wouldn't stare at him. If the store had electricity he would've stayed. He started to write.
The Last Will and Testament of Micheal James Way
I, Micheal James Way, leave my stuff to the following people:
All of my money will be split evenly between my brother Gerard, my parents, and my friends Bob Bryar, Frank Iero, and Ray Toro.
Any Skittles in my pocket go to Frank.
My pet cat, Bunny, goes to Bob.
My comic books, normal books, and notebooks go to Gerard.
My video games go to Ray.
My clothes to charity.
Do whatever you want with everything else.
I would like to be buried like this:
In the clothes I'm wearing when people find out I'm dead.
Next to my grandmother.
With my favorite bass and favorite toaster in my hands.
There will be coffee and sushi served at my funeral.
I don't want to be cremated.
My coffin will have unicorns painted by Gerard on it.
If you do something wrong my ghost will come and haunt you until my funeral is done right.
I think that's it, he thought. He kept walking. Minutes later, Mikey saw one of those digital signs that say how hot it is, it said it was 109°. He tried not to think about it and instead told himself that it wasn't that hot.
I'm dead. I see sushi, Mikey thought. It wasn't ordinary sushi, it was giant dancing sushi calling Mikey's name.
“Mikey, Mikey. Come and eat me. We both know you want to. I'm tasty and Japanese.” it was almost like music to him.
He was about to take a bite of the giant sushi. Then some guy said “What the f**k are you doing?”