Sequel: Alkaline Eyes ›
Lithium Kisses
Anatomy of a Riot
A/N: What kind of pop-punk/emo bands do you like? My favorites are Green Day, Blink 182, New Found Glory, Sum 41, All Time Low, You Me At Six, Hollywood Undead, Motionless in White, Pierce the Veil, and lots more. I've seen Green Day in concert three times, Blink once, and All Time Low once as well. I hope to go to another Green Day concert in the future because the live shows are awesome and I get to meet cool people. Maybe one day I'll have the chance to meet my idols in person.... Then my fucking stupid life can be complete. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r00ikilDxW4 I wish I had a girlfriend that looked like Billie Joe...
It was late when I awoke the next morning. I had crashed on the couch when I got back last night. Tre was jumping and down on the couch, happy that I was awake. I looked around in a sleepy haze. Mike was eating pancakes, looking worn-out. A hamster crawled out of one the empty cereal boxes. Tre chased after it excitedly. There was something missing though. Billie Joe was still gone. I looked frantically for him. "Where's Billie Joe?" I asked, giving up my search. Mike didn't know. Nor did he care, from the looks of it. Images of Billie Joe laying dead in an alleyway naked swamped my mind. Even though he was drunk, he should've known how to find his way home, right? He was the voice of Green Day and I'd have to go back to my dreary life if the band was finished.
Mike must've noticed that I was panicking because he told me to calm my tits and that Billie Joe was probably on the way back the bus. Hours passed however, and he hadn't returned. It was time to leave. We drove around for a few minutes, desperately looking for Billie Joe. And then we found him. He was sleeping facedown in the middle of the bad part of town and was completely naked except for a studded belt that hung around his skinny waist. Cholo children were pointing and laughing hysterically while decrepit little old ladies whacked Billie Joe in the butt with their canes because he was "corrupting the youth". No, the youth would be corrupted later when they tried to join fucking cis cholo gangs and not from a pop-punk saint that was trying to teach the youth to be themselves. Tre flew out the window, acting like a chupacabra because every ignorant cholo was afraid of that. The cholo children screamed blooy murder and dashed off. Charging towards Tre with their canes hoisted high in the air, Tre slung the sleeping Billie Joe over his shoulder and jumped back through the window into the bus. My heart was filled with relief. Billie Joe, naked as he was, was now safe. Mike drove off as fast he could. I couldn't blame him.
When we were safely away from the cholos and on the highway, Billie Joe was beginning to stir. "Ugh...fuck...what the fuck happened last night...?" He groaned discordantly. There was a blanket covering his privates safely. "And why am I naked?" He asked me. I pretended not to know. All of sudden, Tre screamed and held up a newspaper that he had picked up earlier today. On the front page was Billie Joe, half naked and dancing at a strip club. The article read "Green Day? More like 'Green Gay' " and described how a drunken Billie Joe had gotten up on stage, did a strip tease and participated in a massive gay orgy right in the middle of the floor. How dare the reporters write trash like "Green Gay"? They acted like being gay was the worst fucking sin in the world. And so what if Billie Joe got a blow job from a stripper with greasy hair. All of the non-famous people do it all of the time. When I became president, stupid shit like this would end once and for all. Everyone would have respect for gay people because if they didn't, I would ship them off them to designated centers so they could be rehabilitated back into everyday society with a more tolerant and less toxic attitude. Fuck it. i was proud for Billie Joe!
I shoved the newspaper into Billie Joe's face. "Look! They're trying to make you look bad just because you fucked a bunch of other guys! We could be ruined by a shit fuck of propaganda but we won't. We'll fight back, won't we, Billie Joe??" I sputtered, trying to show him the importance of the issue. He just yawned quite loudly and scratched his armpits with a content look on his. "Billie Joe Armstrong, as my future vice president you need to take issues like this seriously!" I pleaded. I felt like Gloria who was pleading with Christian to open his eyes and to stop being so pessimistic.
"Don't worry, Heather, I'm just a tad hungover. That orgy must've been amazing though because my ass feels like someone shoved a cactus up it." Billie Joe said. Well, at least I had his attention at the moment. We already had a campaign strategy in place. While the band was on tour, they would cut the setlist in half and pull me out on stage to give a speech for the rest of the show. The speech would consist of an introduction of myself as a potential presidential candidate and then I would go over the issues that I wanted to change in the world. Since Green Day was the biggest band in the world, I was sure to gain some followers and maybe gain immortality in the process. Not only this, but the emo scene subculture would gain popularity over other depthless styles such as goth and punk. I was going to have pop-punk bands playing at my inauguration. Eh, with a foolproof plan such as this, maybe I could even take over the world one day.
And our campaign strategy had gone almost perfectly. Of course, there were several GD fans that wanted Billie Joe as a presidential candidate and not me but in the end, I had converted them into a true blue Heather Heartless fan. A few months later, after I had a rather large cult following, I was asked to participate in a televised debate with another candidate.
My opponent was a rather stout middle aged man with a ginger colored toupee named Gideon White. He was a member of the conservative party and he intended to rule with an iron fist. There would be no such thing as homosexuality, working women or even protests under his watch. A shiny bald eagle was displayed on his suit and would be a symbol that defined him throughout his campaign. Most of his followers were housewives, "honest" working men and of course, the godly people. The reporters whispered to one and another, comparing me to him. To them, I was just a kid but I knew I could be more. A Jesus of the Modern World is what my destiny would be. As I prepared for the debate, Billie Joe massaged my shoulders. "Don't worry about that fascist fuck. You're far better looking than he will ever. He has nothing on you." He reassured. I hoped so.
It was nwo time for the debate. Gideon and I took our seats across from one another. He eyed me with a mocking smile, but I suppose that's what you get when your opponent probably makes money off of eating murdered abortion doctors. We were asked to give an introductory speech and explain what we stood for. Gideon's cis speech was tasteless at best and consisted mostly of mindless drivel about how America needs to go back to the good ol' days where people enjoyed having gender roles because it was god's will for the world. It felt as if my intelligence had been split in half. In the audience, Billie Joe and Tre were snoring loudly, and Mike was playing Temple Run on his phone. I stood confidently once the speech was finished.
"Some say my speech is nothing more than a public service announcement but I know that it will touch a thousand broken hearts. This is not a test. In this country, we are told that protesting may impair our ability to operate machinery and to keep every valid information source out of reach of children. We are nothing more than victims of authority, wrapped in plastic and sealed tight. Well, I'll tell you this. I may be the minority but I sure as hell don't need your authority. The moral majority has forgotten the meaning of morals. When I was a kid I thought I wanted all the things that I haven't got. I learned the hardest way .Then I realized what it took to tell the difference between thieves and crooks. What a hard lesson to learn. My generation is zero and my parens never made it as working class heros. My name is no one, under a loaded gun. I was raised in the era of heroes and cons that left me for dead or alive. The scars on my hands and the means to an end Is all the that I have to show. Do you know who your enemy truly is? We need something to end this cruel static age. I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies. This is the dawning of the rest of our lives and we need to do something with it." I stated probably nervously.
But, as if a miracle had taken place, the crowd began to clap. The cheers grew louder and louder. Tre was crying silently. Billie Joe was cheering for me the loudest. I was so flattered. There was a scowl on Gideon's face. After the crowds had died down. We were given the topic of gay rights to discuss. This was going to be a piece of cake for me.
"There is no need to give those with the homosexual sickness any marriage rights. What they need is a good strong dose of shock therapy and god's healing hands. America needs to step up to the plate and show the rest of the heathen world that same gender relations are not okay." Gideon stated smugly. The conservative party nodded in agreement. A little girl with the shirt "God hates fags" came up to me and threw her middle finger in my face. I resisted the urge to bite it off. It was my turn now.
"If there is any kind of horrible sickness in the world, it resides in cis people like you who think that homosexual cleansing is part of the natural order. If there is a god, he must be bisexual because he created gay and bi people himself. We need to show people that this is all okay and that this is normal. How would you like it if being straight was frowned upon. Treat others as you would want yourself to be treated, in your case, you must not want any respect." Everyone besides the boring conservatives clapped loudly. Gideon looked as if a bear on a unicycle had walked up to him to and punched him straight in the face. This was it. Down with the moral majority!
"Do you even belong to a political party?" Gideon asked. Shit. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't a normal candidate who was being sponsored by any party and certainly nothing mainstream either. Green Day was sponsoring me and that had gotten me loads of support but what to say. Mike looked suddenly happy that I had been tripped up. Tre stuck a piece of chewed gum in his hair. I needed an inspiring name. Something that embodied the spirit of st. Jimmy, Gloria and Christian all at once. And then I knew.
"I'm a member of the Insurrectum party. It's a light in the cold dark for rebels everywhere. St. Jimmy, Gloria and Christian were all proud members of this party. And if anyone gives a fuck about their rights, then they can consider themselves members too. There are no fees, there is no sign up process, you only need to value freedom." I proudly stated.
The crowd gasped, as if I had a touched a part of them that had been temporarily locked away. I had given them the key. The little girl with the intolerant shirt grabbed a marker and drew all over the shirt. Half of the conservative party looked at each other in shock. Some of them even deserted the party and came over and shook my hands. The rest of the audience were now smashing their chairs in order to show that they understood what I had said. Tre threw a bucket of rabid hamsters on the conservative party. And Billie Joe... The look on his face almost made me cry with tears of joy. It looked like he truly admired me. There was only a small heartfelt smile, but it spoke a thousand endearing words to me. I saw only his face out of the thousands that were there.
The debate had ended because order could not be restored. And thus, a logical riot ensued.
It was late when I awoke the next morning. I had crashed on the couch when I got back last night. Tre was jumping and down on the couch, happy that I was awake. I looked around in a sleepy haze. Mike was eating pancakes, looking worn-out. A hamster crawled out of one the empty cereal boxes. Tre chased after it excitedly. There was something missing though. Billie Joe was still gone. I looked frantically for him. "Where's Billie Joe?" I asked, giving up my search. Mike didn't know. Nor did he care, from the looks of it. Images of Billie Joe laying dead in an alleyway naked swamped my mind. Even though he was drunk, he should've known how to find his way home, right? He was the voice of Green Day and I'd have to go back to my dreary life if the band was finished.
Mike must've noticed that I was panicking because he told me to calm my tits and that Billie Joe was probably on the way back the bus. Hours passed however, and he hadn't returned. It was time to leave. We drove around for a few minutes, desperately looking for Billie Joe. And then we found him. He was sleeping facedown in the middle of the bad part of town and was completely naked except for a studded belt that hung around his skinny waist. Cholo children were pointing and laughing hysterically while decrepit little old ladies whacked Billie Joe in the butt with their canes because he was "corrupting the youth". No, the youth would be corrupted later when they tried to join fucking cis cholo gangs and not from a pop-punk saint that was trying to teach the youth to be themselves. Tre flew out the window, acting like a chupacabra because every ignorant cholo was afraid of that. The cholo children screamed blooy murder and dashed off. Charging towards Tre with their canes hoisted high in the air, Tre slung the sleeping Billie Joe over his shoulder and jumped back through the window into the bus. My heart was filled with relief. Billie Joe, naked as he was, was now safe. Mike drove off as fast he could. I couldn't blame him.
When we were safely away from the cholos and on the highway, Billie Joe was beginning to stir. "Ugh...fuck...what the fuck happened last night...?" He groaned discordantly. There was a blanket covering his privates safely. "And why am I naked?" He asked me. I pretended not to know. All of sudden, Tre screamed and held up a newspaper that he had picked up earlier today. On the front page was Billie Joe, half naked and dancing at a strip club. The article read "Green Day? More like 'Green Gay' " and described how a drunken Billie Joe had gotten up on stage, did a strip tease and participated in a massive gay orgy right in the middle of the floor. How dare the reporters write trash like "Green Gay"? They acted like being gay was the worst fucking sin in the world. And so what if Billie Joe got a blow job from a stripper with greasy hair. All of the non-famous people do it all of the time. When I became president, stupid shit like this would end once and for all. Everyone would have respect for gay people because if they didn't, I would ship them off them to designated centers so they could be rehabilitated back into everyday society with a more tolerant and less toxic attitude. Fuck it. i was proud for Billie Joe!
I shoved the newspaper into Billie Joe's face. "Look! They're trying to make you look bad just because you fucked a bunch of other guys! We could be ruined by a shit fuck of propaganda but we won't. We'll fight back, won't we, Billie Joe??" I sputtered, trying to show him the importance of the issue. He just yawned quite loudly and scratched his armpits with a content look on his. "Billie Joe Armstrong, as my future vice president you need to take issues like this seriously!" I pleaded. I felt like Gloria who was pleading with Christian to open his eyes and to stop being so pessimistic.
"Don't worry, Heather, I'm just a tad hungover. That orgy must've been amazing though because my ass feels like someone shoved a cactus up it." Billie Joe said. Well, at least I had his attention at the moment. We already had a campaign strategy in place. While the band was on tour, they would cut the setlist in half and pull me out on stage to give a speech for the rest of the show. The speech would consist of an introduction of myself as a potential presidential candidate and then I would go over the issues that I wanted to change in the world. Since Green Day was the biggest band in the world, I was sure to gain some followers and maybe gain immortality in the process. Not only this, but the emo scene subculture would gain popularity over other depthless styles such as goth and punk. I was going to have pop-punk bands playing at my inauguration. Eh, with a foolproof plan such as this, maybe I could even take over the world one day.
And our campaign strategy had gone almost perfectly. Of course, there were several GD fans that wanted Billie Joe as a presidential candidate and not me but in the end, I had converted them into a true blue Heather Heartless fan. A few months later, after I had a rather large cult following, I was asked to participate in a televised debate with another candidate.
My opponent was a rather stout middle aged man with a ginger colored toupee named Gideon White. He was a member of the conservative party and he intended to rule with an iron fist. There would be no such thing as homosexuality, working women or even protests under his watch. A shiny bald eagle was displayed on his suit and would be a symbol that defined him throughout his campaign. Most of his followers were housewives, "honest" working men and of course, the godly people. The reporters whispered to one and another, comparing me to him. To them, I was just a kid but I knew I could be more. A Jesus of the Modern World is what my destiny would be. As I prepared for the debate, Billie Joe massaged my shoulders. "Don't worry about that fascist fuck. You're far better looking than he will ever. He has nothing on you." He reassured. I hoped so.
It was nwo time for the debate. Gideon and I took our seats across from one another. He eyed me with a mocking smile, but I suppose that's what you get when your opponent probably makes money off of eating murdered abortion doctors. We were asked to give an introductory speech and explain what we stood for. Gideon's cis speech was tasteless at best and consisted mostly of mindless drivel about how America needs to go back to the good ol' days where people enjoyed having gender roles because it was god's will for the world. It felt as if my intelligence had been split in half. In the audience, Billie Joe and Tre were snoring loudly, and Mike was playing Temple Run on his phone. I stood confidently once the speech was finished.
"Some say my speech is nothing more than a public service announcement but I know that it will touch a thousand broken hearts. This is not a test. In this country, we are told that protesting may impair our ability to operate machinery and to keep every valid information source out of reach of children. We are nothing more than victims of authority, wrapped in plastic and sealed tight. Well, I'll tell you this. I may be the minority but I sure as hell don't need your authority. The moral majority has forgotten the meaning of morals. When I was a kid I thought I wanted all the things that I haven't got. I learned the hardest way .Then I realized what it took to tell the difference between thieves and crooks. What a hard lesson to learn. My generation is zero and my parens never made it as working class heros. My name is no one, under a loaded gun. I was raised in the era of heroes and cons that left me for dead or alive. The scars on my hands and the means to an end Is all the that I have to show. Do you know who your enemy truly is? We need something to end this cruel static age. I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies. This is the dawning of the rest of our lives and we need to do something with it." I stated probably nervously.
But, as if a miracle had taken place, the crowd began to clap. The cheers grew louder and louder. Tre was crying silently. Billie Joe was cheering for me the loudest. I was so flattered. There was a scowl on Gideon's face. After the crowds had died down. We were given the topic of gay rights to discuss. This was going to be a piece of cake for me.
"There is no need to give those with the homosexual sickness any marriage rights. What they need is a good strong dose of shock therapy and god's healing hands. America needs to step up to the plate and show the rest of the heathen world that same gender relations are not okay." Gideon stated smugly. The conservative party nodded in agreement. A little girl with the shirt "God hates fags" came up to me and threw her middle finger in my face. I resisted the urge to bite it off. It was my turn now.
"If there is any kind of horrible sickness in the world, it resides in cis people like you who think that homosexual cleansing is part of the natural order. If there is a god, he must be bisexual because he created gay and bi people himself. We need to show people that this is all okay and that this is normal. How would you like it if being straight was frowned upon. Treat others as you would want yourself to be treated, in your case, you must not want any respect." Everyone besides the boring conservatives clapped loudly. Gideon looked as if a bear on a unicycle had walked up to him to and punched him straight in the face. This was it. Down with the moral majority!
"Do you even belong to a political party?" Gideon asked. Shit. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't a normal candidate who was being sponsored by any party and certainly nothing mainstream either. Green Day was sponsoring me and that had gotten me loads of support but what to say. Mike looked suddenly happy that I had been tripped up. Tre stuck a piece of chewed gum in his hair. I needed an inspiring name. Something that embodied the spirit of st. Jimmy, Gloria and Christian all at once. And then I knew.
"I'm a member of the Insurrectum party. It's a light in the cold dark for rebels everywhere. St. Jimmy, Gloria and Christian were all proud members of this party. And if anyone gives a fuck about their rights, then they can consider themselves members too. There are no fees, there is no sign up process, you only need to value freedom." I proudly stated.
The crowd gasped, as if I had a touched a part of them that had been temporarily locked away. I had given them the key. The little girl with the intolerant shirt grabbed a marker and drew all over the shirt. Half of the conservative party looked at each other in shock. Some of them even deserted the party and came over and shook my hands. The rest of the audience were now smashing their chairs in order to show that they understood what I had said. Tre threw a bucket of rabid hamsters on the conservative party. And Billie Joe... The look on his face almost made me cry with tears of joy. It looked like he truly admired me. There was only a small heartfelt smile, but it spoke a thousand endearing words to me. I saw only his face out of the thousands that were there.
The debate had ended because order could not be restored. And thus, a logical riot ensued.