Content: Implied m/m, language, mention of bondage, extreme silliness.

Character/s: Raven (Scott Levy), Sandman (Jim Fullington), Stevie Richards (Michael Manna)

Disclaimer: I own NO ONE depicted in these fics. I am not endorsed by any person, corporation, federation, promotion, etc., nor do I receive any monies for writing sick and twisted tales of their imagined goings-on. All lyrics, quotations, etc. used without permission. No infringement or disrespect to the various artisans is intended, so please don't sue me.

Notes: Written for Fae's SML challenge to use at least 5 pre-determined "bumper sticker" phrases.

Stevie Richards stood on a tiny stage in the middle of a smoke-filled bar. Basking in the spotlight, he wailed into the microphone with all the enthusiasm he could muster. "My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hon!"

Scotty Levy had just returned from the bathroom and as he approached his table, he cast an amused glance towards the stage. "Sir Mix-A-Lot? What kind of idiot would..." His voice trailed off as he finally recognized the singer. "No. No fucking way."

Jim Fullington laughed as he took another sip of his Jack and coke. "Yeah, man. That kind of idiot." Scott was still standing, staring gape-jawed at the stage, and Jim pulled at his arm. "Siddown, man. Let the kid have his fun."

Scott snorted disgustedly as he took his seat, enduring the rest of Stevie's performance with gritted teeth. "If that's what you wanna call it," he added with a wince as Stevie hit a particularly sour note.

"You just forget how to have fun sometimes, I think. You gotta learn how to be a kid again, Scotty. Sometimes yer a real pain in the ass to be around, you know that?"

Scott gave Jim his sweetest smile. "I'm really easy to get along with once you people learn to worship me."

"Ha ha ha. Very fuckin' funny." Jim shook his head. He nodded his head towards the stage. "Besides, don't you have your very own little devoted zealot up there? Praying day and night at the Altar of Scotty's Ego?"

Scott narrowed his eyes at Jim. "You know, James, I'm already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth." He glanced over at Stevie, who was approaching the table. "Both of your mouths."

"Duct tape? You guys starting the fun without me?" Stevie was pouting like a petulant child.

Scott sneered up at him. "I see you've set this special time aside to humiliate yourself in public. Do you really wanna add bondage games to the equation?"

Stevie had the good sense to blush and take his seat. Jim reached over and clapped him on the shoulder, jarring him nearly out of his seat. "I thought it was fuckin' hilarious, kid. You oughta go up and do another song." He smirked arrogantly at Scott. "Unless Scotty's ready to hit the stage, that is."

Stevie perked up at that. "Is he right? You're gonna go sing for me? When, Scotty?"

Scotty glared back at both men with all the venom he could manage. "How about never? Is never good for you?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "You know, ever since you quit partyin' you started bein' a real wet blanket, man."

Scott steepled his fingers and leveled a stare at his blonde companion. "So your own continued destructive habits are something to be proud of? Something positive?"

Jim smiled crookedly. "At least I have a positive attitude about my destructive habits."

Stevie pounded the table as he doubled up with laughter. "You guys are too much!"

Letting out another disgusted snort, Scott dug out his wallet and arched a brow at Jim. "I assume I'm paying again?"

"Well, you know, since you already got yer wallet out and everything..." Jim smiled, knowing Scott didn't really mind picking up the tab. "I'd hate for you to think you lost your status as the resident Sugar Daddy."

Finally unable to contain the smile he'd been fighting back, Scott laughed as he dug out a few bills, tossing them onto the tabletop. "That's me, all right. Daddy Warbucks." He shrugged into his black leather jacket and surveyed his two companions. "Well, you two idiots ready to head back to the hotel now?"

Jim nodded, grabbing his smokes and stuffing them into his pocket. "May as well, since you ain't goin' on stage any time soon."

Stevie finished his drink and stood as well, a curious smile playing across his features. "So, when you mentioned duct tape earlier... Were you kidding about that?"

Scott turned to smile enigmatically at Stevie. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?" He continued towards the door, leaving a giddy Stevie to follow along after him.

"Because I really don't mind. You know, it's been a while since the three of us roomed together. It'd be kinda like old times, don't you think? And you know I'm always up to anything you two could dream up..."

Jim attempted to tune out Stevie's rambling commentary as he caught up to Scotty. "Duct tape," he nodded. "Definitely duct tape or neither of us are gettin' any fuckin' sleep tonight."