Alkaline Eyes

A/N: Hello again, loyal readers! How are we doing today? I'm doing just downright shitty. Someone had the nerve to send me a PM about Lithium Kisses which stated that I was an insult to the LGBT community and I should go and die. There are assholes everywhere in the world but they can all just STFU. There also probably all cis as well. But I'm gonna keep on writing until Green Day notices me or my hands fall off. Stay (Arm)strong!

I was beginning to find out quickly that Hell was a terrible place. It wasn't like Earth where you felt physical pain, no it was much much worse. Billie Joe didn't remember me whatsoever, from the looks of it and that was heartbreaking. It made me want to punch him and Satan, if he existed. They had no right to take my best friend away from me. I would get him back, i just knew it. Maybe I could break out of hell and take over heaven ,if there was one. Mike wasn't much help either. He just stared off into space, as if contemplating something. Well, hell was pretty boring, I guess. Couldn't blame him.

All of us just sat there on the couch. There was no need for us to eat, sleep or even breathe, and there wasn't much to do. I paced across the room, ocasionally, hoping for a change of pace. It wouldn't do good to try and speak to Billie Joe. He spent most of his time sobbing, curled up in a little ball. I watched as his eyeliner dripped to the floor, in large black puddles. There was nothing I could do but watch him suffer. Even Mike could do nothing, he just watched sadly. And of course Tim was no help, he was a fat ass shizo. All he did in his free time was eat duct tape because it would give him magical carrot powers. He was worse than a cholo. Cholos were the worst clique you could be a part of, in my opinion. I pray to Billie Joe's tie this torture would end soon. It did not.

On the sixth "day", they brought in two new people. That was the day I realized I was truly IN Hell. It was two dirty punk assholes. One of them was Sid Vicious, who had just died because he was stupid and drank cleaning bleach to try and impress people. He had messy, short spiky hair and a dumb smirk on his face. The other person had large, dirty brown spikes all over their head like a rhino and was named "Robbie" but went by "Spike". He was wearing a dirty leather jacket, a dog collar probably stolen from some pit bull, and had a large pair of knee high boots on. As soon as Sid walked in, he began trying to sniff dust off of the couch in order to try and get high. I wanted to smack him but refrained because it might lead to Billie Joe getting swirlies again. Robbie (I refused to call him "Spike") looked kinda depressed and muttered something about how Green Day absolutely sucks.

My mind exploded at the horror. Fuck him. Fuck him up the ass. I'll show him the HE is the suck one!

I went up to him and punched him as hard as I could in the face. "YOU FILTHY FUCK BITCH SHIT HOLE!!!!" I shouted, throwing all intelligence to the side. I was in hell, I had no one to impress. Plus, the only language punks understand is obscenities anyway. Sid started giggling at the word "fuck".

"Hehehhehehe, you said "fuck!" Sid whispered to himself. Mike and I glared at him. Robbie looked taken aback. Come on, give me all you got. I was beat up throughout my entire life, I'll take any number of punches for Green Day. "What the hell was that for?!" Robbie growled. I smirked.

"Wow, you only used ONE swear word? You must not really be a punk then. Anyway, Green Day does NOT suck. They are intelligent and full of depth, unlike the shit you listen to." I said triumphantly. Robbie stared at me as if he thought I was stupid. Guess I had to dumb it down for him because he was a dump punk. "Green Day NOT suck. Stuff you suck. Why you no use swears." I drawled mockingly. Robbie shook his head in what look liked exasperation, but maybe he still did not understand. "Fuck Green Day fuck not fuck suck fuck fuck, shit cunt." I said finally, and very slowly. Sid was giggling madly while picking his nose and saying something about anarchy. I was going to die in this terrible place probably. It made me want to tear my eyeballs out.

Robbie looked at me for a second and then snickered. "You're really fucking stupid, you know? There, happy, I said the "F" word. By the way, I know Green Day sucks for a fact, because it helped put your ignorant ass into the White House. Yes, "White House", because that's what it is supposed to be, not a black house." He said sarcastically. I was infuriated.

"Bitch, I was the prez!" I snarled.

" 'Was' is definitely the correct word to use. Last time I checked, you blew your brains out on national television, not very patriotic of you... And the only bitch I see here is you." Robbie mocked. I hate this. Maybe he used to be emo, because I've never met a punk that actually knew what sarcasm was. Maybe I could convert him back at one point. My mind whirled with brilliant plans. I would send Satan to go and kill Ollie Sykes and take him to my room. And then he and Bring me the Horizon would put on an awesome, show-stopping concert which would convert Robbie back to an awesome emo person, who I could actually hang out with. Yes, this was a great idea. I looked around desperately for a phone. It wasn't on any of the tables, it wasn't hiding under the couch and it most certainly wasn't in Billie Joe's pocket. dammit!

I ran to the door and yanked it open, it instantly slammed shut. I tried opening it again. This time it would budge. Fuck. I tried kicking it down. It felt as if I was kicking iron. Then I grabbed Sid and tried to bash the door open with his head. All that did was piss Sid off to point of where he started barking at me. I bopped him on the nose. Robbie pulled me away from Sid. "Are you fucking psychotic or something?" He asked sincerely. I shook my head no. He probably was though. "Look, I know you hate me and Sid, but can we just put aside our differences for the time being?" I thought for a second. Maybe they would let me out of Hell on good behavior if I tried hard to be nice to all of the unworthy.

"Fine." I sniffed. Robbie sighed with relief.

Suddenly, a great idea dawned on me. I knew how we could escape. I grabbed Tim, who was trying to lick his own eyeball. "Tim, how would you like to leave?" Tim looked at me curiously. I knew I had him right where I wanted him, as a perfect battering ram. He was fat enough to break through anything. I told him what to do. His face fell, and he looked like he was about to cry.

"B-but, I m-might die." Tim whimpered. I rolled my eyes. This was Hell, there no way he could die (again). In the end, I told him that I would buy him lots of Star Trek action figures, like Luke Skywalker and Jedi Spock or something. That made him happy. We all watched with bated breath as Tim stood at the end of the room, panting with adrenaline. Mike warned me that this wasn't a good idea but I ignored him.

Like a lightning fast cougar, Tim dashed at the door with his head downward. He rammed into the door as hard as he could, and we winced at an extremely loud CRACK! The door crumbled! We all cheered, well except for Billie Joe of course because he had no idea where he was at. Like a stampede, we rushed through, and into the hallway. Mike stayed behind to check on Tim, who was laying on the ground, bleeding. "Uh, guys...he's not breathing." He said solemnly. I groaned loudly. Not. again. Fuck, he was dead (again). Oh well, collateral damage is sometimes needed to protect certain people, like me and Billie Joe. Sid giggled. I smacked him for being an asshole. Robbie rolled his eyes.

"So do you always lead a path of destruction wherever you go, or is this just a phase you're going through?" He snarked. I laughed slightly. Wait, I shouldn't be laughing at his stupid punk joke. I roughly shoved him aside and sauntered down the hallway while Mike carried Billie Joe. The lobbyist gawked at us as we strolled past. He called for us to halt immediately. I grabbed a gun that was sitting on his desk and shot him twice in the heart. He crumpled to the floor. Sid and I cheered. Alarms were going off left and right. We ran through the door nearest to us on the right before security found us. Maybe we could sneak into purgatory or something. That's when I noticed the sound of something growling behind us. I slowly turned around. A pack of three-headed wolves were psyching us out with their cold, yellow eyes. I gulped and then they jumped at us. We dashed as fast we could through Hell, which was mostly concrete.

Finally, and somehow still in one piece, we wound up in a room that looked very cushy and luxurious. There was a handsome (no hetero) looking man wearing a pinstripe suit sitting in one of the chairs, smoking a cuban cigar. So this was Satan himself, the big man in charge. He looked quite friendly since he was smiling at us. He laced his fingers together, looking at all of us. "So...you are the group of hooligans who managed to get past my security using ingenuitive ways. Interesting. So, what is it you want now? Fame, fortunes, all the whores you can buy? No, can't give you that, you're dead." Satan laughed to himself.

"No, none of that. I want to be prez of the underworld!" I declared. There were a bunch of groans from the group behind me. Satan burst into laughter. I glared meanly.

"That's very cute, Heather, but I'm afraid I cannot do that. I could offer you position of Anti-Christ but you eradicated most the world already. Hmm...what to give you for your reward... Ah, I know... We can craft you guys new bodies." Satan said. "They'll look the same as your old ones, just not as rotten smelling."

There was much chatter amongst the group. What an odd thing to offer. But why not. I could always just be president again in physical world. Suddenly Pandora burst in. She looked fuming. And she had her sword drawn. Just great, I was probably going to get slashed into two. "I just overheard your conversation, Mr. Satan. You're not being serious are you? Heather is a hazard to all of humanity. You can't give them new bodies!" She snipped. I sighed with exasperation.

Satan chuckled, spinning around in his chair. "Sure I can. I need willing victims...er people to complete a task for me anyway."

"What's the task?" I asked wearily.

"Well, I'm about to unleash the four horse men of the apocalypse. I need to you help the remaining humans through each tragedy, gaining their trust. I want you to become world leader, promising to usher in a new era of peace. And then, I want you to crack down, breaking them to your will. You will be my anti-christ until I can return to Earth."

Sure, why not?

Maybe I can get control in a nice way.