‹ Prequel: Lithium Kisses
Alkaline Eyes
Last Tour on Earth
A/N: I've had a terrible week. Someone punched me in the face just because I actually like good music. I'm sorry, but if you don't like stuff like Dashboard Confessional or Green Day, then you don't have good taste in music. Nothing will ever have as much meaning as Green Day though. I'm thinking of posting a link to Lithium Kisses on Billie Joe's instagram. I hope he likes it. Do you think he will, guys? Stay (Arm)strong!
In front of the Black House was the somewhat-charred-but-still-operable tour bus. The crimson, heart-shaped hand grenade that was painted on the front, was now rusting away. It represented Green Day's unfortunate fading glory in this dark age. I wonder if record sales skyrocketed after Billie Joe died. The inside of the tour bus looked like the same as usual: underwear strewn everywhere, cereal boxes coating the table and pop-punk posters everywhere. It was the truly the perfect kingdom for the emo gods of alternative rock. I breathed in the smell of burning charcoal and felt as if I was truly home again. But there was one thing out of place. A picture of Billie Joe and Andrienne hung on the walls, the symbolism of what always had held Billie Joe back from being truly happy in his life. I grabbed a butcher knife and repeatedly stabbed the picture, making sure to hurt Andrienne in all of the sensitive spots. A grin spread on my face and relief filled my hollow veins. Mike flashed me a quick smile and quickly locked himself in the bathroom. Finally! He was beginning to appreciate my existence. It was about time he fucking realized how awesome I am.
Tre was analyzing a hole in the worn out couch as if he was searching for Jesus. He still thought his name was Snoo, but we were making progress. As long as he knew that I was in control and that he was my minion, we would get along perfectly. Billie Joe was getting situated in the driver's seat and had a couple of beers in his arms. He hadn't been sober in days. I was beginning to worry if he was going to get alchohol poisoning. All of a sudden, I heard a blood-curdling scream from the bathroom and I didn't think it was Mike. It sounded more feminine. Billie Joe fell off of the driver's seat, Tre thrust his head into the hole of the couch, and I was slightly turned on. I ran into the bathroom hoping to find Pandora naked and tied up just for me. Of course, my fantasy was shattered as soon as I entered the bathroom, but, I could dream, right? Hiding behind the shower curtain was a girl with disheveled orange hair and smeared eyeliner. She had pale skin and was wearing a torn purple sweater, ripped skinny jeans and black flats. I couldn't place my finger on it, but she looked really familiar. She was wielding a broken, sparking hairdryer and looked as if she was about to lunge at Mike and yank out his vocal cords. Mike was holding the toilet seat cover as a shield. The girl snarled viciously.
Hey, wait a second.... Isn't that Hayley Williams from Paramore?
"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." Mike tried to reason "I was just trying to get away from Heather before she stabbed me." I glared at Mike. Hayley softened her gaze when she looked at me. I guess the fact that I was female made her feel a little bit better. Still though, I couldn't imagine Hayley Williams, the goody two-shoes of the emo subculture, snarling at anyone. Maybe she had lost her mind like Tre had. I hoped not, I didn't want to deal with anymore weird cults. At that moment, Billie Joe stumbled into the bathroom and almost fell over at the sight of Hayley. It looked like his eyes were about to pop out of their sockets.
"Wow, look at this fine piece of ass. How would you like to come home with King BJ, sweet-heart?" Billie Joe slurred seductively and tried to wink. Hayley took one look at him, shrieked and leapt at him, and began beating him with the sparking hairdryer. Mike and I desperately tried to pull her away. Looks like I might have to kill her for hurting my precious idol. Tre walked in and began screaming at the top of his lungs simply because Hayley was screaming. I firmly grasped the hairdryer and smacked Tre in the face, and we all collapse to the floor in a burnt, and smoking heap of bodies. Hayley had finally stopped screaming and trying to kill Billie Joe and Tre was now bleeding from his right eye. Today was off to a great start....
Hayley, however, seemed to be a decent enough person when you got to know her. She explained how all of her other band mates had perished when the apocalypse happened, and that she had to kill all of them to survive since they had turned into zombies. After that, she had lived Green Day's tour bus for about a month until we were resurrected. I told her that I had faked my death because I needed a break from being the president and that it was easier than asking for a vacation from congress. She believed me. I had to duct-tape Tre's mouth shut to keep him from speaking of his cult and the great pancake. There was just one thing though. I don't care for straight girls, and she looked too good to be anything but straight. And, unfortunately, that meant that her heart and her tits were now off-limits unless I somehow became a guy. I don't know, I guess I could be a trans-boy if I wanted to be. For now, it looked we were going to keep Hayley on the tour bus. Pop-punk and emo bands gotta stick together like glue, otherwise everyone loses.
So we began to plan out the greatest world tour on Earth, and I secretly began planning my world domination. Green Day would bring back hope and great music to this twisted, burning world whether people liked it or not. And, ticket prices would be at a great, low price of $80, so that way, even cholos could afford to buy tickets and burritos! I would give inspiring speeches at each of he shows, telling people to put their full faith in me because I would make everything better.
I slept soundly that night, my dreams filled with conquering the world with Billie Joe by my side. Together, we were the king and queen of absolute darkness and black hearts, leading an army of broken emos to safety. Hayley was also there as my handmaiden and Billie Joe's concubine. Tre was a jester that looked like Kiss. It was such a great dream, that I was actually sad when I had to wake up. It was still early, as we had to start driving right away. There was still obstacles to overcome though. No one was watching Tre and he drove straight into a fire hydrant, spraying water everywhere. I was able to distract him by danging his new baby hamster in his face and telling him that the great pancake could revoke his gracious gifts if he misbehaves. That put Tre in his place. We drove though burning forests, cities full of homeless and starving people and general mayhem in order to bring back the greatest band on Earth. Our first gig was in at the Chicago House of Blues. It was one of the still intact buildings. But, first, we had to stop at the gas station to refill the tank.
What was about to follow was a rather unforgettable event.
In front of the Black House was the somewhat-charred-but-still-operable tour bus. The crimson, heart-shaped hand grenade that was painted on the front, was now rusting away. It represented Green Day's unfortunate fading glory in this dark age. I wonder if record sales skyrocketed after Billie Joe died. The inside of the tour bus looked like the same as usual: underwear strewn everywhere, cereal boxes coating the table and pop-punk posters everywhere. It was the truly the perfect kingdom for the emo gods of alternative rock. I breathed in the smell of burning charcoal and felt as if I was truly home again. But there was one thing out of place. A picture of Billie Joe and Andrienne hung on the walls, the symbolism of what always had held Billie Joe back from being truly happy in his life. I grabbed a butcher knife and repeatedly stabbed the picture, making sure to hurt Andrienne in all of the sensitive spots. A grin spread on my face and relief filled my hollow veins. Mike flashed me a quick smile and quickly locked himself in the bathroom. Finally! He was beginning to appreciate my existence. It was about time he fucking realized how awesome I am.
Tre was analyzing a hole in the worn out couch as if he was searching for Jesus. He still thought his name was Snoo, but we were making progress. As long as he knew that I was in control and that he was my minion, we would get along perfectly. Billie Joe was getting situated in the driver's seat and had a couple of beers in his arms. He hadn't been sober in days. I was beginning to worry if he was going to get alchohol poisoning. All of a sudden, I heard a blood-curdling scream from the bathroom and I didn't think it was Mike. It sounded more feminine. Billie Joe fell off of the driver's seat, Tre thrust his head into the hole of the couch, and I was slightly turned on. I ran into the bathroom hoping to find Pandora naked and tied up just for me. Of course, my fantasy was shattered as soon as I entered the bathroom, but, I could dream, right? Hiding behind the shower curtain was a girl with disheveled orange hair and smeared eyeliner. She had pale skin and was wearing a torn purple sweater, ripped skinny jeans and black flats. I couldn't place my finger on it, but she looked really familiar. She was wielding a broken, sparking hairdryer and looked as if she was about to lunge at Mike and yank out his vocal cords. Mike was holding the toilet seat cover as a shield. The girl snarled viciously.
Hey, wait a second.... Isn't that Hayley Williams from Paramore?
"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." Mike tried to reason "I was just trying to get away from Heather before she stabbed me." I glared at Mike. Hayley softened her gaze when she looked at me. I guess the fact that I was female made her feel a little bit better. Still though, I couldn't imagine Hayley Williams, the goody two-shoes of the emo subculture, snarling at anyone. Maybe she had lost her mind like Tre had. I hoped not, I didn't want to deal with anymore weird cults. At that moment, Billie Joe stumbled into the bathroom and almost fell over at the sight of Hayley. It looked like his eyes were about to pop out of their sockets.
"Wow, look at this fine piece of ass. How would you like to come home with King BJ, sweet-heart?" Billie Joe slurred seductively and tried to wink. Hayley took one look at him, shrieked and leapt at him, and began beating him with the sparking hairdryer. Mike and I desperately tried to pull her away. Looks like I might have to kill her for hurting my precious idol. Tre walked in and began screaming at the top of his lungs simply because Hayley was screaming. I firmly grasped the hairdryer and smacked Tre in the face, and we all collapse to the floor in a burnt, and smoking heap of bodies. Hayley had finally stopped screaming and trying to kill Billie Joe and Tre was now bleeding from his right eye. Today was off to a great start....
Hayley, however, seemed to be a decent enough person when you got to know her. She explained how all of her other band mates had perished when the apocalypse happened, and that she had to kill all of them to survive since they had turned into zombies. After that, she had lived Green Day's tour bus for about a month until we were resurrected. I told her that I had faked my death because I needed a break from being the president and that it was easier than asking for a vacation from congress. She believed me. I had to duct-tape Tre's mouth shut to keep him from speaking of his cult and the great pancake. There was just one thing though. I don't care for straight girls, and she looked too good to be anything but straight. And, unfortunately, that meant that her heart and her tits were now off-limits unless I somehow became a guy. I don't know, I guess I could be a trans-boy if I wanted to be. For now, it looked we were going to keep Hayley on the tour bus. Pop-punk and emo bands gotta stick together like glue, otherwise everyone loses.
So we began to plan out the greatest world tour on Earth, and I secretly began planning my world domination. Green Day would bring back hope and great music to this twisted, burning world whether people liked it or not. And, ticket prices would be at a great, low price of $80, so that way, even cholos could afford to buy tickets and burritos! I would give inspiring speeches at each of he shows, telling people to put their full faith in me because I would make everything better.
I slept soundly that night, my dreams filled with conquering the world with Billie Joe by my side. Together, we were the king and queen of absolute darkness and black hearts, leading an army of broken emos to safety. Hayley was also there as my handmaiden and Billie Joe's concubine. Tre was a jester that looked like Kiss. It was such a great dream, that I was actually sad when I had to wake up. It was still early, as we had to start driving right away. There was still obstacles to overcome though. No one was watching Tre and he drove straight into a fire hydrant, spraying water everywhere. I was able to distract him by danging his new baby hamster in his face and telling him that the great pancake could revoke his gracious gifts if he misbehaves. That put Tre in his place. We drove though burning forests, cities full of homeless and starving people and general mayhem in order to bring back the greatest band on Earth. Our first gig was in at the Chicago House of Blues. It was one of the still intact buildings. But, first, we had to stop at the gas station to refill the tank.
What was about to follow was a rather unforgettable event.