Raynkieardkeyob

Frank’s POV:

I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with everything recently. Gerard pinched me on the way to the shower. And it wasn’t a “come-hither” pinch either. Not that we do that. It’s just I know what it feels like. Jamia does it to me.

But that’s the other thing. I think Jamia might’ve broken up with me for real. And I don’t want that. Who will cook for me?

I can’t cook anymore. I tried. I was gonna make something Cajun, cause Cajun’s yummy. And I was taking something out of the oven, and the hotpad wasn’t thick enough, so my hand started burning. I tried to put the pan on the table. I did. But the pan didn’t want to go on the table.

It went on the floor.

Then Mikey came and yelled at me for making a mess. And Brian wants to make me pay for new linoleum on the floor, cause that one got damaged.

And Jamia won’t talk to me, and Gerard pinched me. And I think it’s gonna bruise. It’s just not fair. Really not.

Gerard’s POV:

Frank is pouting. Maybe it’s cause I pinched him. But seriously, the midget DOES get on nerves. Nerves none of us knew we had. Shower. Right.

I walked into the bathroom, not realising that I had left the door open. I came swiftly to that realisation as I saw Ray munching on a piece of cheese. Stress relief food.

He needed it after seeing all those tampons everywhere... poor boy. I felt sorry for him, honestly he's too innocent for his own well being.

I shut the door and undressed, looking in pleasure at my beautiful body. “Who’s hot?” I asked my reflection in the mirror. “I am, I am!” I answered the reflection in pleasure. I mean, did he even HAVE to ask?

I turned on the tap feeling the lukewarm water. Lukewarm, not scalding. Yes, lukewarm; I listened in science.

Ew. I listened in science? Anyway... back to me.

I stood there feeling the water trickle down my back, leaving a warm fuzzy sensation. This warm, fuzzy sensation was much like the warm fuzzy sensation you get when you pee after waiting for hours to find a bathroom…or a decent sized rock or bush...or anywhere for that matter.

I take solemn pride in my urination achievements. Okay, that sounded WRONG!

I saw my shampoo – my special shampoo – on the other side of the shower and picked it up. Lovingly, I surveyed the beautiful label I had drawn so carefully. It had a picture of my handsome face, along with the words, “Gerard’s shampoo. Touch it, and he will suck your blood.” There was some rather graphic art of blood and guts. The blame for that, I lay at Frankie’s door.

No, seriously.

He pissed me off so much, I drew a detailed picture of me sucking his blood. After reliving the wonderful memories, I opened the top of the shampoo. I planted a large dollop in my hair and started to rub it in gently. This shampoo had to be treated just right. It felt a little seedy. Hey, seedy rhymes with needy. Frank’s needy. Whatever.

It didn't bother me as long as no tampons would fly out from – whoa! nice way to jinx yourself Gerard! Bravo.

I looked at my toothbrush that had the string wrapped around it. Ew. Ew.Ew. That is flipping disgusting. I decided not to use that toothbrush, but the other option was Frank’s.

I wavered for a moment, then decided to use my own tainted one. Cause Frank’s ickier than tampons.

Ooh! This water feels good. Good water. Yay! I was getting all clean from the tampons. Ew! No tampon time. No tampon thought time. Just no!

I decided to make my thoughts change the subject. What other more lovely thing could there be to think of than…me? I stroked my face lovingly, angling to get a look at the mirror.

When I did, something horrific greeted me. I was blonde.

Ray’s POV:

That was traumatic. I’ve eaten all my cheese. I wish I were a mouse. Mice always have cheese. Like in cartoons and shit. I need cheese.

Looking through the fridge, I found there was none. The other stress relieving option? Cartoons! Yay, I love cartoons! I’m gonna watch some mouse cartoon.

[Hour later]

Mice rule! They should totally like, become the new world government.

Yeah!!! Then we could always eat cheese. You could be outlawed if there wasn’t cheese in your cupboards at all times.

Holy shit! Who is that?

Oh, it’s just blonde Gerard.

FUCK! BLONDE GERARD?!?

He looked a little sheepish. I guess I yelled that last bit. I tried to be friendly.

“Um, hey Gerard…nice, uh…hair.” He rolled his eyes.

“We need to get ready for our interview with that magazine. Go get dressed up.”

Dressed up, dressed up…oooh yay! “I’m going to go as a mouse. What about you?”

Frank’s POV:

Haha, Gerard’s gonna get the shit from Lyn-Z if she ever agrees to speak to him again. A bruise was worth his face! Blonde! Whoever would have thought I had it in me?

Note the sarcasm. I don’t. But Gerard thinks I do. I guess his conscience is bothering him cause he fucked up big time pinching me.

The boy really shouldn’t let his temper run away with him so often.

I stink. I think I need a change of underwear. Brian brought all our clothes back from the Laundromat like…a couple hours ago. I’m totally putting on my comfy boxers. The ones with turtles. They have a special silk inlay, for me to lay my special on.

“You’re going to love it, aren’t you?” I crooned to Little Frank. “Daddy’s gonna give you a special place to lay your tired head.”

When I reached my drawers, I began to rummage through for the turtle ones. Ooh Little Frank was getting excited at the thought.

I found them, dropped my pants, and pulled on the new ones. Little Frank was wearily trying to lie in his cradle…but there was no cradle.

“Noo…!!!” I cried. “These were the TURTLE ONES! Who would be so unkind?” Sobbing, I collapsed into a heap on the floor. “The tampon monster is mean and evil. First the coffee – just…taken away. Then Gerard turned into the resident evil. And now Little Frank’s beddy-place – gone. It’s NOT FAIR!” I was screaming by this time.

Bob, Ray, and Mikey all came in. And some blonde chick. No, wait. False alarm. That’s Gerard. Sigh.

“Little Frank has nowhere to lay his head!” I wailed. The boys looked confused, and then really REALLY disturbed.

“Frank!” Ray scolded. “Don’t CRY. Just get another pair of underwear.”

“Oh! There are more underwear!” I said excitedly. I’d forgotten. I looked. But all the underwear had holes the size of Little Frank cut out from where Little Frank should be.

As the last pair was discarded, I began to cry again. “Little Frank’s TIRED!”

Bob patted me on the back. “I’ll lend you a pair of boxers, man. I’ve got a pair I never wore before.”

I brightened. At first, the idea was really disgusting. But if they were unpolluted…well. I dove for Bob’s drawer. The sight was really…something else.

“Hahahahahahaha. I didn’t know you…hahaha Bob wears g-strings, Bob wears g-strings,” was all that I could say.

Bob blushed. “I do not!”

“Dude, don’t lie,” piped up Mikey. “Your drawer’s full of them!”

“There’s only o- What?!” Bob stormed over. “What.The.Fuck?!”

“We know, Bob,” I tried to be supportive. I mean, in Bob’s place, I’d want some support. “We’re here for you man. It’s just…” I burst into tears again. “We didn’t know you were into men. If we had known we wouldn’t have played raynkieardkeyob games, and walked around naked sometimes.”

I gave him a tearful hug.

Bob pushed me away. “I’m not gay, man.”

I rolled my eyes. Stupid Bob really thinks I’m stupid, doesn’t he? “Fine – bi-sexual. Whatever. I’m just so proud that you’ve taken the step to tell us…”

Gerard interrupted me. “Shut the fuck up, Frankie. Bob’s not gay. The Tampon Monster got to his underwear drawer. And yours too. Unless you cut them all up in a moment of brilliance.”

I thought about it for a minute. “No, I didn’t cut up my Turtles.”

There was a collective sigh. Then my mind brought me back to why exactly we were talking. Right. Underwear.

“Well, Bob, I’m gonna have to wear some. So let’s everyone see if there are any worth wearing. Anyone’s. I might even be willing to wear ones you’ve worn before.”

“EW!” the rest of them chorused, but dutifully went to look in their drawers. Bob excused himself to go find some new feet.

“Nooo,” came the howls of despair from Mikey, and Ray.

“G-strings,” whined Ray, brandishing a frilly pink pair.

“Ventilated,” moaned Mikey, putting his finger through the damaged item.

“Hehe, commando,” grinned Gerard.

“Ugh, shut UP!” Mikey cried, poking him in the ribs. “It’s bad enough we have the Tampon Monster on the loose, but YOU have to fuck around with my mind. Ewww,” he shook his hand off distastefully. “I don’t even wanna touch you.”

“Gimme those!” Frank cried, snatching the g-strings from Ray, and putting them on. When he noticed we were all looking at him funny, he shrugged. “Little Frank is sleepy. He needs a bed.”

“T-M-I!” shouted Gerard.

Ray put his hand over Gerard’s mouth, and said seriously, “Guys, huddle round. We need to plan how to fend off the attacks of the Tampon Monster.”

Bob’s POV:

We all looked at eachother in awed silence as Ray’s words rang in our ears. It was like… a special mission! Oh hell, like TWO special missions. The villain would PAY!

Then a different voice pierced the stillness. “Hey boys…what the fuck?! Gerard! How many times have I told you NOT to touch your hair without a stylist around? You look like a fucking girl!”

“It was the Tampon Monster’s work!” Gerard cried indignantly.

“Whatever,” Brian shrugged. “I picked up a movie for you boys to watch, cause you sure as hell aren’t going anywhere for a long time – not with Gerard looking like that.”

“The interview?” Ray squeaked.

“Was cancelled,” Brian finished.

“Ooh goody!” Frank piped in. “What’s the movie?”

“Mean Girls,” Brian stated, and turned on his heel.

Mikey groaned, but Gerard and Frank began hyperly jumping up and down in the jumping corner. I guess they like the movie.

“You guys LIKE that movie?” Mikey asked disbelievingly.

“Well duh!” replied Gerard, and Frankie added,

“What’s not to like? It’s a bunch of girls acting like absolute bitch-idiots and ruining other people’s lives for no apparent reason. It’s like, funny, cause stuff like that doesn’t happen in real life.”

Silence flooded the room.

Frank thought his words had been profound, so he began beating on the walls, “I am Guru Frank! You may call me Swami Ishamael Hasaba!”

“Shut UP, Frankie!” we all chorused. Then looked at each other oddly. That was unplanned. Meaning it was JUST a little weird.

“Do you really think it is?” Mikey quavered.

Ray looked down. “Apparently Krista would do something like that.”

I raised my hand. “I guarantee Jamia would.” Nods and affirmatives came out at that. Rather a little too enthusiastically from Frank – Jamia would have hated to see that kind of devotion.

“Well boys, looks like time for some serious grovelling,” said someone.

I don’t know who the fuck it was, but the advice was sound.

“Who…who ARE you?” Frank asked nervously.

The man snorted. “I’m the bus-driver.”

Oh, right. “Hi Hank,” I said politely.

“Steve,” he corrected.

What the fuck? “I don’t know any Steves – maybe he’s the Tampon Monster…”Briiaannnn!!”

“Steve is the bus driver!” Brian’s voice wafted in from somewhere. “Okay,” I said. “Welcome to the team, Steve.”

For some reason he didn’t seem to want to take my hand.

I don’t know why.