AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Ahhhh. Short but goofy- I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. 'Nuff said, there.
(P.S. if you hate it, I'll go all Hannibal Lecter on you…. jk, jk.)
STANDARD DISCLAIMER:
You know the drill.
Author's POV:
"Hey, guys. So… I've been thinking…"
"Please don't."
"But it's really…."
"No."
"But I really think that it's…."
"Nope."
Ben exhaled sharply and cursed slightly under his breath; his expression laced with frustration as he glared over at his two "so-called" best friends. They were supposed to be listening to him; not ignoring him entirely and treating him like a little baby. Frowning, he took a massive swig of his smoothie; viridian eyes narrowing. Jerks.
"But why can't I…?"
"Sorry."
But what if it's…?"
"N…O."
Ben growled grumpily to himself, shaking his head as he turned his back to the TV-watching pair and curled his body up into a tight ball on the couch. Gwen and Kevin just never listened to him; every time he had something to say, they quickly evacuated the room, like he was some sort of ticking time bomb. And he always had the best ideas. It just wasn't fair; a ticking time bomb had feelings, too. The irritating brunette sulked, waiting for a long period of time to pass before attempting to make his brilliant idea known to the world once more.
He seized the moment.
"I THINK THAT WE SHOULD ALL GET PERSONALIZED TEAM T-SHIRTS!" The crazed boy blurted out at the top of his lungs, startling his friends to such an extent that they both jolted up to their feet, shrieking out of complete shock.
"THINK about it!" Ben practically frolicked around the room, a grin that was far too big for his face smothering his expression. "It would be so incredibly cool! We could be the first crime-fighting team in the whole entire universe to have team t-shirts! We'd be like, baddies with style!" The ecstatic boy ranted on and on, barely leaving himself any time to breathe. "I mean, come ON! How 'effing cool would that be? TEAM T-SHIRTS! Everyone would want them! And we could make them say really amazing, neat-o things, too! We could get them with sparkles, and rainbows, and sequins, and other shiny things! Come on! SPARKLES! How can you resist the temptation? And each person could have a different version of the shirt that said something utterly awesome about them! Like, for my shirt, I was thinking that it should have a really cool, smart-ass logo. Something like: 'The Boss' or 'Trixed-out' or 'The Alien King', you know? Something real catchy." Ben giggled like a neurotic psychopath, and Gwen and Kevin simply watched in sheer horror, helpless, as the idea just grew and grew and grew into a monster. "And, KEVIN! Oh, Kevin, I've got the best one for you! What do you think about 'Mr. Muscles'!" The deranged teen snorted merrily, sounding something like a wild boar. "Oh, oh, ohhhh! I know! Gwen's could be 'The Human Battery' or 'Lady Energy'! Like, oh my God! How cool would that be! And ohhh! We could get fancy flowers embroidered into the fabric! Freaking cool, right? Flowers of every single color imaginable! And then, all the people in the world that we passed by while wearing them would be like stunned, no, petrified with jealousy! And pretty soon people would be begging us to make them ones, and we'd be all like, 'Nope, sorry- it's a team thing', and then we'd be the coolest people in the entire galaxy, and we'd look even cooler wearing out t-shirts than Azmuth does with his scraggly beard/moustache thingy! It would be soooo, totally, freaking, spectacularly, amazingly, fantastically, EPIC!"
Ben panted like a fat man after running a marathon as he finished his overly-exuberant speech; pathetically gasping for breath as his two friends simply stared at him with utmost shock and terror.
And then the duo began to glance back and forth continuously between their teammate and themselves for what seemed like a lifetime; a mixture of agitation and wariness sketched upon their faces.
Suddenly, the pair began to cackle, no, scream with laughter; completely leaning on each other as they threatened to topple over and collapse onto the floor in a giant heap of giggles.
"You guys?" Ben questioned humorlessly, fully bewildered as to why the two were chortling like maniacs when he had been dead serious about everything he had just said. "Guys…? What do you think…?"
"NO." Came the devoutly firm, simultaneously-spoken answer to his question, and the pair began to make their way quickly and anxiously over to the door so that they may be able to escape the room with their dignity.
"But, it… come on! It would be sooo coooool guyssss!" The brown-haired teenager whined with eyes the size of dinner plates, and he flailed his arms around his head in a certain motion that reminded Kevin strangely of an old woman having a seizure.
Gwen shook her red mane in severe disagreement and scoffed; patting her cousin mockingly on the shoulder. "You keep telling yourself that, Alien King." The girl giggled; her laughter increasing drastically as her boyfriend chimed in.
"But…" A heart-broken Ben gazed after the couple; sadness streaming from his jade eyes as he suffered the cruelty of the rejection.
"Ah, ah, ah!" Kevin shook his finger in a scolding manner at the brunette as he continued to lead his girlfriend towards the door; a vibrant essence of mockery blossoming in his smile. "Mr. Muscles and Lady Energy can't talk right now, please leave a message after the beeeep!" The two teens roared with laughter as they finally exited the room.
And that was just how the duo left the poor, infuriated, and sorrowful Tennyson boy; lying on the floor in a collapsed heap of pain, torment and broken dreams and wishing desperately that Santa Claus would bring him a new set of friends for Christmas next year.
AUTHOR'S NOTE ENDING:
Hahaha. Mr. Muscles. I think that's what really got me. 'Kay! So I love you all to dust, (Let's just hope it never comes to that) and I'd loveitloveitloveit if you could just click on that magical Review button down below for me, and tell me what you thought. Trust me, it'll be easier than pressing an Easy Button. (Eh, not so much) Adios, and goodnight!