Mike's Determination

"Err... dad?" Joey questioned awkwardly.
"Eat your greens!!!!" Billie Joe crazily jumped.
"Mikey... He's scaring me," he whispered to Mike.
"He's scaring me, too," Mike agreed, nodding in shame.

***

Tre was at the doctor's office, sitting in a seat in the corner. He looked around at the place- white walls, grey carpet.

I can't stand it anymore!! Tre thought, before jumping up and onto a seat.

"This place is so BORING!! No wonder there are so many sick people in here! Brighten up for God's sake!!" He dictated.

"Err... settle down please, Mr Cool. I think the reason for everyone in here being sick is because it's a doctor's office," The receptionist said.

"Oh yeah. Well you could at least brighten up the place a bit!!! Maybe crimson red walls, burgundy carpet, or maybe even floor, so that way it wouldn't be so hard to clean up vomit, you get me, eh?" Tre continued, dancing around the place, pointing at random things in turn, but was cut off by another throb of pain.
"AH!" He squealed, falling on his hands and knees as another wave of pain hit him.

"Mr Cool, SIT DOWN!" The receptionist demanded, shoving a finger at a nearby chair.

"Okay, okay. Don't get your panties, undies, jocks or any other form of underwear in a knot," Tre muttered as he plonked his ass down in the seat.

"Okay, you two, yer get off here," John snapped, sharply pulling over and unlocking the doors. Adrienne and Jakob nodded and scurried out of the car.

"Now what should we do?" Adrienne questioned.
"Hey look!!" Joey stretched, pointing in a direction.
"Mr. Cool," some serious formal voice from the corridor called.
"That's me!!" Tre skipped, standing up and parading happily towards the doctor.
"Can you please come into my office?" The middle-aged man in a white coat commanded.
"Okay," he agreed, marching into the office.
"So what seems to be the problem?" The doctor asked.
"I'm having this hurty throbbing at the back of my head every once and so often," Tre explained.
"Okay... let me see, please. Turn around," The doctor clicked. Tre nodded and whirled around in his wheelie chair.
"He he, these wheelie chairs are fun!!!" he exclaimed, whirling around a few more times before actually coming to a stop.
"Ah," The doctor said, still in his formal voice.
"Ah what?" Tre cautiously asked.
"Ah I'm taking a blood sample from you," The doctor responded, grabbing an empty vaccine from a nearby desk.
"Y... You've got a vaccine... and it's empty! I don't like empty vaccines," Tre murmured.
"This won't hurt a bit," The doctor smiled.
"Okay doctor, I suppose you know what you're... " Tre started, but was cut off when the needle hit his skin, "S... suck on myyy dickkk till your lips fall offfff." He danced as the needle did its job. It was Tre's tradition to sing a kinky song when he was nervous. The doctor paused, and smiled slightly. It was more of a smirk.
"If you're speaking to me I... " He started dreamily.
"AND I WASN'T!!" Tre shouted. The doctor nodded and took the needle out.
"I'll take this down to the lab for some tests. It should be all done by some time tonight," The doctor finished. Tre nodded and looked around nervously.
"Can I go?" He questioned.
"Please do," The doctor replied.
"Yess!!!" Tre hissed in triumph, getting up and striding towards the door.

"Well what should we do?" Joey questioned, glaring back down at his grinning dad.
"Can I have a lollypop???" Billie Joe asked sweetly.
"What the fuck?" Mike stiffly beckoned, his eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets when he heard this odd demand.
"What did he just say?" Joey recalled.
"Can I have a lollypop?" Billie Joe repeated.
"No," Mike snapped.
"Why?" Billie Joe annoyingly questioned.
Mike rolled his eyes, "Coz I said so."
"I want a lollypop! In fact, I am not asking you, I am telling you to get me a lollypop!!" Billie Joe grumbled.
"You're not getting a lollypop. We're on our way to the police station to report this... event. And... and here we are now." Mike reported. Billie Joe jumped out and rushed up to a nearby police officer who was about to get into their police car.
"Ooooo!! Can I ring the siren!? Can I ring the siren!!? Can I?? Can I?!" He hyperactively giggled. The police looked down at Billie Joe in awe and shame.
"Billie Joe Armstrong? Is that YOU?!?" He exclaimed.
"Billie Joe Armstrong? Who the hell is he? My name is MIKEY DIRNT!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Billie jumped, getting up and leaping around. The police officer stared in wonder at the leaping Billie Joe.
"Mikey Dirnt?" He muttered under his breath.
"Mikey, he's getting worse," Joey urged, "What should we do?"
"I think we should question him about what John did before actually reporting it to the police," Mike suggested. He then slowly approached Billie Joe from behind, who was now singing 'I'm a Little Tea-Pot' with actions.
"Billie, I mean... Mikey," Mike started.
"What?" Billie questioned happily, turning around.
"Tell me what happened," Mike demanded, looking Billie Joe straight in the eyes.
"He just... spilled... tomato sauce all over me," He lied.
"Tell me the truth," Mike bellowed, looking even deeper into Billie Joe's eyes.
"O...Okay. I'll tell you the truth," He sighed, "The truth is... I AM AN ALIEN!!!" He finished jokingly in an alien-like voice, waving his arms around wildly.
"Mikey! Calm down and tell me the truth!!!!!!!!!" Mike shouted, pulling at Billie's arm and shoving him back in front of him. It was now sunset and they all knew it would be difficult to find their way back home when it was dark.
"Okay. The truth is that... he's the fifth teletubby," Billie Joe giggled, going totally red in the face. He doubled over with laughter as Joey and Mike stared at him in worry.
"We're not gonna get any truthfulness out of him, Joeyey," Mike sighed, grabbing hold of Billie Joe and leading him into the police office.
"Mikey, are you gonna tell him about you being related to Bush or not," Joey gritted.
"Not yet," Mike replied.

Tre waited patiently beside his phone at home...
C'mon, call you asshole, He thought. Suddenly, the phone rang.
"Hello!!!??" Tre cried. He paused as the person o the other line spoke, "No, this is not The Australian Weight Watchers' Club. You've got the wrong number."
Tre sighed and placed the phone down. It rang again.
"Hello?" He hopefully stated. He again, paused to listen the person on the other end, "No I am not an Italian who is participating in The Australian Weight Watchers' programme."
He slammed down the phone receiver again.
It rang yet again.
Third time's a charm, He thought, picking up the phone.
"Yep?" He quizzed.
"Hello is this Mr Tre Cool?" The guy on the other phone asked.
"Yep," Tre nodded.
"I have got the test results back," He announced.
"Yepppppp... .." Tre beckoned.
"I have examined your sample, and it seems that a cancer tumour in the back of your head is causing the pain.
Tre bit his lip, "So I have... cancer?"
"Yes."