Status: Updates every four days.
We Way? Three Way!
Angry Ryan Is Angry
Everything was close to normal again. Just Gerard and Frank and Mikey and Ray and Bob and Becca and Natalie and me. Except now, we had Lyn-Z and Brendon with us too. They were kind of like extended family. It was right around the time Brendon stopped chucking raw cookies at us and we actually put things into the oven that we heard a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” Brendon asked in a sing-songy voice.
“It’s me!” The person on the other side answered back in the same sing-songy voice.
“RYAN!” Brendon shouted, opening the door and flinging himself at the person named Ryan. They slowly made their way inside and joined us all in the kitchen. Then things got bad and Ryan had Brendon by the ear.
“Where the hell have you been. We go on tour TOMORROW. You were supposed to be back last week! I flew all the way to New Jersey to get you, and then everyone in the entire freakin’ neighborhood tells me that everyone in the house came to California! I’ve been looking for you for days! What the hell, man!” Ryan started screaming. I didn’t know that kind of sound could come out of that mouth.
“But Ryan, I missed my flight.” Brendon whined.
“But Brendon, you could’ve caught the next one.” Ryan imitated him. It was at that point that I grabbed some popcorn. Things were about to get really entertaining.
“Ow! Ryro, you’re hurting my ear. Let go, pleasy please.” Brendon whimpered, giving Ryan the puppy dog eyes. Ryan sighed and let go, only to have Brendon grab a chair and go back to his hiding place in the ceiling.
“Haha! You’ll never catch me here! Never!” He shouted. Then the oven dinged. “Oh boy, cookies!” He said, jumping back out of the ceiling and racing over to the oven so Natalie could take them out of the oven and give him one. Ryan grabbed his ear again.
“We’re going home.”
“But Ryro, I didn’t get my cookies yet.”
“They have cookies at the airport.”
“But Ryro, those aren’t homemade.”
“We can stop at a bakery.”
“But Ryro, it’s not the same.”
“Too bad.”
“But Ryro, I-”
“Don’t you ‘but Ryro’ me, mister.”
“Pleasy please can we stay for cookies?”
“No.”
“But Ryro... cookies.”
“Okay fine. It’s not because you want cookies. It’s because I want cookies.”
Mr. Ryan Ross then proceeded to eat one cookie with a frown on his face the entire time before dragging Brendon out the door and back to Las Vegas.
“Who is it?” Brendon asked in a sing-songy voice.
“It’s me!” The person on the other side answered back in the same sing-songy voice.
“RYAN!” Brendon shouted, opening the door and flinging himself at the person named Ryan. They slowly made their way inside and joined us all in the kitchen. Then things got bad and Ryan had Brendon by the ear.
“Where the hell have you been. We go on tour TOMORROW. You were supposed to be back last week! I flew all the way to New Jersey to get you, and then everyone in the entire freakin’ neighborhood tells me that everyone in the house came to California! I’ve been looking for you for days! What the hell, man!” Ryan started screaming. I didn’t know that kind of sound could come out of that mouth.
“But Ryan, I missed my flight.” Brendon whined.
“But Brendon, you could’ve caught the next one.” Ryan imitated him. It was at that point that I grabbed some popcorn. Things were about to get really entertaining.
“Ow! Ryro, you’re hurting my ear. Let go, pleasy please.” Brendon whimpered, giving Ryan the puppy dog eyes. Ryan sighed and let go, only to have Brendon grab a chair and go back to his hiding place in the ceiling.
“Haha! You’ll never catch me here! Never!” He shouted. Then the oven dinged. “Oh boy, cookies!” He said, jumping back out of the ceiling and racing over to the oven so Natalie could take them out of the oven and give him one. Ryan grabbed his ear again.
“We’re going home.”
“But Ryro, I didn’t get my cookies yet.”
“They have cookies at the airport.”
“But Ryro, those aren’t homemade.”
“We can stop at a bakery.”
“But Ryro, it’s not the same.”
“Too bad.”
“But Ryro, I-”
“Don’t you ‘but Ryro’ me, mister.”
“Pleasy please can we stay for cookies?”
“No.”
“But Ryro... cookies.”
“Okay fine. It’s not because you want cookies. It’s because I want cookies.”
Mr. Ryan Ross then proceeded to eat one cookie with a frown on his face the entire time before dragging Brendon out the door and back to Las Vegas.