World War Tour

Chapter 11: KaBOOM!

Kaylee was up on her feet; her posture rigid as she stood shocked at the two fighting men, the same ones that were being held back by both managers.

“THAT IS IT! EVERYBODY GETS A FUCKING TIME OUT!” Tex rarely yelled, but he was beyond frustrated at the behavior. Especially those who were supposed to be professional musicians.

“We didn’t do anything.” Kennedy defended, but it was rather weak. In truth he had just been about to bunch the sly looking Tyson square in the jaw-although a well aimed kick to his balls would of worked just as well.

“Yeah, we saw. You guys didn’t do a damn thing to stop this-ya know what, I’m tired. I feel like I’m babysitting toddlers, not being a manager. This has all got to STOP. If one more thing happens-and I mean one more prank, one more word, one more ANYTHING-Tex and I have the perfect solution to this little problem, and we will enforce it…and believe me, ya won’t like it.” Tim threatened, his arms now crossed over his chest in a parental manner.

John didn’t say a thing, he simply gave Patrick a quick nod of his head before walking away. After all, since they were doing a ‘time out’ he figured what better way then to get out of everyone’s hair…but it didn’t mean he couldn’t have a friendly little word with his band mate.

“Where are you going?” Tim asked, his tone still tight.

“Well Tex did send us to time out, we’re going for a walk-I need some air, and the instruments still need to be packed up. We’re taking care of that.” John said easily as Patrick followed him out of sight to allow the others to deal with the two seething and pissed off band mates.

When John was sure he was out of ear shot he stopped Patrick where he stood.

“Rules and consequences be damned. I saw a small electronics store around the corner of the venue-across from an army store. I’m going to go get some dynamite sticks, you go get a few garage door openers. They want to play hardball, they want to play ‘pranks’…so fucking be it. We’ll play-what they did to our bus won’t even compare what we’ll do to their instruments. Meet me back here in ten minuets, we’ll get to work.”

With that John walked away from a thoroughly confused, yet compliant Patrick.

“Well if you cant join them…beat them.” He said shrugging before running off in the opposite direction. Although a little apprehensive of what the consequences were going to be, but if John wasn’t worried about it, then he wouldn’t be either.
*

Tyson glared as he and Garrett were made to sit side by side on the couch in the greenroom. Tex wasn’t kidding when they said everyone was in time out. That meant sitting quietly on the couch or whatever furniture was around and being quiet until Tim got done observing the damage that use to be their tour bus. Tex was keeping an eye on things inside.

Kennedy sat in a nearby chair and looked at Kaylee, who had an indignant look on her face. She wasn’t involved in any of this.

“Mr. Tex?” Kaylee asked timidly as she raised her hand as if she were in a classroom.

Tex sighed, a little more calmer now.

“Yes hun?”

“I was asleep, I didn’t do anything-why do I have to sit here?” She asked, looking at Nick and the other All American Rejects members, as if it were their fault. In truth this was stupid and she felt like a child who was being punished for something she didn’t do.

Tex didn’t say anything for the moment, that gave Tyson a chance to interject.

“Because Tex doesn’t play favorites; when ones in trouble-we’re all in trouble.”

Kaylee’s head snapped to Tyson, a glare now replaced in her dark eyes.

“Don’t you dare talk to me, you have no right to even speak to me-you-you, ASSHOLE!”

Kaylee never swore-in fact, she was usually the calm one who’s mouth was as pure as an angel’s wing-well that flew out the window when Tyson got her into trouble.

“Kaylee!” Kennedy yelled, shocked-if not completely mortified at his sister’s language.

“Shove it Ken.” Kaylee snapped, standing up to walk out, seeing Tex ready to object. She stopped short; poking the manager in the chest.

“Don’t even-I need to go for a walk-I need to calm down or I’m going to scream.” She told the manager blatantly before walking past and out the door.

Tyson actually smirked, looking over at Garrett.

“She’s got some balls-feisty girlfriend you have there.” Tyson replied sarcastically-yet it was amused.

Garrett growled, turning away from him but not before huffing.

“She’s not my girlfriend asshole, we’re friends-Kennedy would kill me if I dated his sister without asking him. So whatever you THINK you heard or saw-you are sadly mistaken.”

Tyson looked him over before rolling his eyes.

“Whatever.”

Nick cleared his throat and stood up, looking at Chris and Mike.

“Before this whole thing exploded, we already made peace; we hesitated, the fight was unexpected. As far as I’m concerned the pranks are over. We had our fun, it got out of hand. We’re sorry…so can we go back to our bus now? We’re going to have to take off soon, and to be honest I just want to put this day behind us-we all do.”

Chris and Mike agreed, but Tex snapped his fingers.

“No, not until the instruments get packed up, and the rest of The Maine come back. Tim is going to be livid when he sees that bus.”

Nick sat back down in defeat, agitation clearly written on his face.

“We’ve been bad boys.” Tyson smirked, becoming obnoxious; which was vast becoming unappreciated by both bands.

“Ty, knock it off huh?” Chris remarked; getting up to stretch. He was through with the games. In truth he wanted to get back to his tour bus and call his girlfriend-she’d have his nut sack if he missed their call again.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” Tyson snorted, but didn’t say much after.

Tim came back, holding his hand; and a shoe was missing from his foot. Apparently Chico-which was dubbed personally by Tyson had decided Tim needed a little exercise as well.

“I was bitten by a rooster…wearing a bra. Do you want to explain to me why the fuck the bus was destroyed, and why there’s a God-damn rooster wearing a bra!?

“Tyson.” Was the word everyone spoke in perfect unison. Which caused Tyson to glare and fold his arms over his chest.

“Yeah not like I was the only guilty party doing the dirty work when it come to that prank…although yes I did put the bra on the rooster. Guilty as charged-and the chicken.” He added as an afterthought.

Tex shook his head, rubbing the headache that was coming on.

“Tim, I’m sorry-the bus will be cleaned up and the destroyed items replaced. I promise.”

Tim had a better idea, after all the drama; and to save on the effective cost of traveling-he shook his head.

“No, I want both bands to appreciate the others talents. Replace their stuff but, if you don’t mind; we would like to stay on your tour bus for the remaining time we’re on with you guys. It saves yourself and me a little bit of money. Not to mention it will get these guys some time to bond.”

It was at that second the entire room erupted into objection, only for Tex to scream for complete silence-this time however it fell on deaf ears.

Eventually Patrick and John came back, in time to witness the whole room in a yelling match-and Kaylee missing-but the news they walked in on was not one they wanted to hear…not in the least.

“I’d rather chew my own ears off, and shit them out through my nose then be stuck on a bus with these talent less rejects.” Garrett exploded, pointing to his right at Tyson, who struck back with his own retort.

“Yeah, I’d rather stab my eyes out with a spork and shove them up my own ass-it’d be better than looking at these idiots for two fucking months!”

“STOP IT!” A voice screamed out through the noise, quieting the whole room down.

Kaylee stood in tears. This situation was becoming more stressful by the day-she was tired and wanted to go to sleep, anything to forget this happened.

Tim then seemed to get the situation under control as Kennedy ran to hug Kaylee, while the rest of the group followed.

“Ok, I think we’ve had enough-guys get Kaylee back to the bus, Tex-we’ll be waiting. Deal with these guys we need to get going. I’ll have a roadie dig through our bus real quick and grab what isn’t destroyed. I’m not going back on there.”

Tex agreed, before the room was bathed in silence again, but with the exception of four very pissed off band mates.

“I don’t want to hear another word. You brought this on yourselves. Now shut up and get your assess on that bus. I hear even one more word out of any of you tonight-I’ll hog tie you and stuff you in the trunk of the bus with your instruments.” Tex threatened as the band got up without a word and made their way to the bus.
*

The bus was bathed in quiet, the quiet you only hear when in a graveyard. The worst part was, it had been an hour since leaving the venue.

Tex and Tim were more than thankful, but unaware of what John and Patrick had done, which would make itself known very soon.

Around the third hour in of driving, Patrick was in his bunk, John across from his, each staring intently at the other. Not a word was spoken, but in almost code John nodded his head-as if to signal something before turning to close the curtain of his bed.

Patrick took that as his que to reach under his pillow, producing four garage door openers, all of which he pressed before closing the curtain to his own bunk; the soft humming of doors opening simultaneously as he pressed his head to the wall, smirking in the darkness, hearing the falling sounds of instruments, followed by a steady slow of brakes, until the movement stopped completely.

John was fairly positive the bus was far away from the instruments, taking out a small device of his own-a hand held button, which would signal the next phase of their plan-and what a devious trick it was.

“Guys? Your instruments fell from the bunk area, the doors are opened-they look to be fine though.” The bus driver called having just come back from outside.

The Maine all came to look out the window, watching as Tyson and the others started heading toward the fallen instruments, but before they got within a few feet of their fallen art pieces, John grinned; sparking one phrase that would seal the band’s fate into a world war tour of hell.

“Happy Fourth Of July-assholes.”

With that a deafening blast sounded through the air.

Tex and Tim along with the Maine members hit the ground of the hallway of the bus while pieces of flying debris blasted through the air, rattling the earth below them.

Kaylee covered her head-mortified as the fire and deafening sound echoed and shook the bus, with flying pieces of what use to be equipment- and four men outside hitting the ground in sheer unexpected panic.

That stunt could have killed someone, but Kaylee was relieved as she flew up from the floor and looked back out the window- seeing the AAR guys quickly get up from the ground; a little singed but otherwise unharmed as they hauled ass back inside.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Tyson screamed, his ears ringing from the explosion.

Someone was in trouble.