Sugar, We're Going... On A Cruise!?

“Wait! Stop!” gasped Patrick, struggling to keep up with Pete and Ryan. They were running down the hall, racing to get to the party. Patrick hadn’t had time to change, and was still wearing his pajamas, which had rubber duckies on them. Pete was uber fast and had pulled skinny jeans on over his black boxer shorts that had money symbols on them and put on a jacket. He never wore a shirt under his jacket.
“Please! Just stop for a minute… can’t… run… that… fast…”
Ryan stopped and grabbed a hold of Pete to make him stop, too.
“He’s to fat!” yelled Pete. “He can’t run!” Pete didn’t admit that he was glad to have stopped, he was about to drop down with exhaustion.
“Just tell us what’s going on!” said Patrick.
“I did!” Ryan replied. “Gerard wants a karaoke war!”
“But why?”
Ryan thought for a minute, then said, “I don’t know…”

Meanwhile, Gerard was working on a plan…

“Pink Platypus Spy, do you copy? Come in Pink Platypus Spy. Over,” Gerard spoke into his walkie-talkie from behind the karaoke stage. There was someone on right now singing ‘Oops I Did It Again’ by Brittany Spears.
“Pink Platypus Spy, do you copy? Over.” Gerard waited, but no answers were coming.
“Pink Platypus Spy come in! ANSWER YOUR WALKIE TALKIE PINK PLATYPUS SPY!!!” Gerard yelled, getting impatient.
Finally, Ray Toro answered from where he was standing at the bar. “Okay Gerard, I told you, I don’t want to be called ‘Pink Platypus Spy.’”
“Well,” Gerard replied, “Do you have a better suggestion? And I’m not Gerard. I’m Master Vampire of Death And Murder.”
“Why don’t we just not have spy names?” asked Ray.
“What would point even be if we didn’t have spy names?”
“I don’t see the point now!”
“Whatever,” said Gerard angrily. “Bubble Bunny Spy, are you there?”
“Affirmative, Mater Vampire of Death And Murder. Over,” said Bob.
“Do you see them?”
Bubble Bunny Spy craned his neck from his position by the door. He saw no sign of Pete or Patrick. “Nope. Over.”
“Alright then,” said Gerard, “We’ll just have to wait a little longer. The Frog Spy, do you copy?”
“I told you Gee Gee, I want to be Short And Sexy Spy!” came Frank’s reply.
“It’s Master Vampire of Death And Murder. And, no, you may not be Short And Sexy Spy.”
“But why do I have to be The Frog?”
“Because admit it, Frank,” Pink Platypus Spy answered, “You look like a frog.”
“A frog prince,” Bubble Bunny Spy added. “Over.”
“No,” Frog Spy whined. “Gee, I’m tired of playing Dead Serial Killer Vampire Spies! Can’t we go home?”
“We haven’t even barely started yet! And it’ll be so much more fun when the others are playing with us! Plus, we’re in the middle of the ocean. How were you planning on getting home? Unless you wanna swim, you’re staying on this ship and playing Dead Serial Killer Vampire Spies with us! You don’t want to swim, do you Frog Spy?”
Frank just whimpered.
Gerard snorted triumphantly. “Pink Platypus Spy? Is Mikey with you?”
“Yeah,” answered Pink Platypus Spy.
“Good. Don’t let him have anything to drink unless it’s water, okay?”
“Fine, but why doesn’t he have a spy name?”
Gerard growled. “I told you, Pink Platypus Spy, he doesn’t have a walkie-talkie! We didn’t have enough!”
“I’ll give him mine, if it makes that difference!”
“No! Besides, I couldn’t think of a good name for him. Not since he got rid of his glasses… stupid lasik eye surgery…”
“They’re here, they’re here!” yelled Bubble Bunny Spy excitedly, then hastily added, “Over.”
Gerard peeked around the stage and looked to the door. The rest of Fall Out Boy had arrived…
Patrick didn’t like parties. And this one would be especially bad, since he was in his pajamas and would have to endure the humiliation. Oh well. Patrick sighed. Nothing new.
Patrick looked around fearfully for Gerard. He saw no sign of the deathly pale dude. He did see Joe, Andy, Jon, Brendon and Spencer coming up to join him, Pete and Ryan. They all huddled into a group.
“They’re all around,” said Joe, above the music.
“They’re wearing black,” Andy added. “Thinks it disguises them.”
Patrick looked around the room. It was quite large. It was round, and there was a disco ball in the center. To the right was a bar, to the left people were dancing. And straight ahead was the karaoke stage. There was someone singing now, but Patrick didn’t know the song because it wasn’t FOB.
Suddenly, Patrick saw five figures cloaked in black walking towards them. He knew who they must be. Patrick noticed that his friends were lining up to face the other band. Someone, Patrick got stuck in the center, beside Pete.
When the members of My Chemical Romance were very close, they took off their hoods, and Patrick drew back in fear. They all looked quite scary to him, even the small one, which Patrick didn’t think was really that small, since he was short himself. They wore too much eyeliner.
“What do you want, Gerard?” asked Pete, venomously.
“I – we – want a karaoke war.”
“Why?”
Gerard smiled. “What not?”
Pete sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll play along and be part of your little karaoke war. What’re the rules?”
“Rules?” Gerard hadn’t thought about this. He took a moment to think and then said, “The only rule is that you can’t sing one of your own songs.”
Ray leaned over to whisper something in his ear. “Oh yeah, and you can only sing classic rock songs.”
Pete slowly nodded. “Okay.”
“And it has to be me against you. No one else.”
Pete against Gerard? thought Patrick. What’d they wake me up for,
then?”
Some of the members of Fall Out Boy and Panic! At the Disco sighed with dismay when they heard it would be Pete against Gerard. Pete could scream okay, but sing? Not so much.
“Whoever the crowd likes best wins,” Gerard was saying.
“And what happens if you win?” asked Pete.
“You play Dead Serial Killer Vampire Spies with us.”
“Why didn’t you just ask us to play with you to begin with?”
Gerard’s eyes widened. “Would that have worked?” he asked.
“Well… No,” said Pete.
Gerard stuck out his tongue.
“And what happens if Pete wins?” asked Andy.
Gerard scoffed. “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen. But whatever. You have no chance, so name anything.”
Pete turned to his friends for suggestions.
“I know! I know!” whispered Joe. “The little dude!”
“Alright,” said Pete, turning back around, “If we win, we get the midget.”
He pointed at Frank. Frank squealed in horror and threw his arms around Gerard’s waist. Gerard, in turn, latched his arms around Frank’s neck.
“No!” yelled Gerard. “You are not getting Frankie!”
“But I thought you said I’d never win,” taunted Pete.
“But… but…” Gerard bit his lip, “As long as there’s a chance… Just please, anything else! You could have anyone else, Mikey, even, but not Frankie! We would be nothing without him!”
“Hey,” said Mikey, turning to Gerard. “I’m your own brother! You’d rather have him then me?!”
“Sorry, Mikes,” answered Gerard. Then he turned pleading eyes back on Pete. “Please, something else…” he said.
Pete waved his hand dismissively. “It’s okay, I like my guitar players to be taller then their instruments, anyway.”
Frank looked like he was going to cry.
“Just hurry up and name something, then,” said Gerard, angrily, stroking Frank’s hair lovingly.
“Alright then…” Pete looked around. Bob crouched down and hid behind Mikey so as not to be the next person Pete picked as a prize.
“If I win,” Pete said, “We get the dude with the cool hair.”
“I thought you couldn’t see me!” exclaimed Bob, straitening up and stepping out from behind Mikey.
“Not you, loser,” said Pete. “Him,” he pointed at Ray. Joe had been staring at his ‘fro pretty much the whole time.
“Oh, you want Toro?” asked Gerard, unbelievingly. “Fine by me. Let the battle begin!”