He doesn't know what he's doing here.

Okay, no, he knows exactly what he's doing here. Here, being the parking lot of the 7-11 on Main, watching his two friends acting like complete doofuses.

Doofuses on skateboards, he'd like to add.

See, Finn never learned how because dude has all the coordination of Bambi learning how to walk and Mrs. Hudson was smart enough not to let him near anything with wheels since the incident involving a ten-speed, a rake and Mr. Carlson's butt. The whole mailman thing was just an error of judgment on Mrs. H's part.

Sam, on the other hand, was all "Dude, I'm like Tony Hawk" and "I'll teach you, it'll be awesome" and a few other things that came up in his bleached blonde head but Puck is too badass to repeat.

Which leads to the here and now, a Friday night when he could be doing something a little more productive but instead, he's stuck being the sane one (aka the designated 911 dialer) while Tweedledee and Tweedleblonde are trying to recreate some 'rad' moves.

"Um, dude, I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to brake with your forehead."

See what he means?

So he just sits there on the curb, trying not to snort Slurpee up his brain by laughing at his dumbass friends.

Come to think of it, he's been in this position more times than he can count in the last couple of weeks. Three days ago, it was a Lord of the Rings marathon at the Hudson/Hummel house, where Kurt kept insisting they put on this weird as fuck avocado mask for their U-zone (or was it T? Whatevs. ), which ended up being a Lord of the Rings drinking game where everyone had to take a shot whenever Gollum said 'precious'. Needless to say, his girl did not appreciate the drunken booty call, asking her if she wanted to 'blow his Horn of Gondor'.

The week before that, it was an impromptu fishing trip which almost ended in fisticuffs and Sam with a fish hook through his nose. A few days before that, it was a session of COD that lasted so long, his ma was scared that he'd fallen into a ditch somewhere. Then it was a zombie movie marathon that had Finn squealing louder than his little sister Becca. And before that, there was the whole pranking business that Rachel had to stop before they actually followed through with replacing all of Sylvester's trophies with framed photos of Mr. Schue.

He knows that his friends have been acting crazier than usual and the funny thing is he actually understands. The poor idiots don't know what to do with themselves now that they've been cut off by their women. Finn is in this weird place with Satan-a where he thinks he might like her more than a fuck buddy but he's not entirely sure what to do with all the lesbionic undercurrents, so she was all like 'F that shit' and left him hanging. Quinn, on the other hand, is on this 'I need to be my own woman' kick, which leaves Matthew McConaughey over there out in the cold.

Yeah, it's pretty hard to believe that out of the three of them, he – Noah Puckerman – would be the one in a healthy, stable relationship.

Just then, his phone beeps with a new message. He smiles when he sees it's from his girlfriend.

RB*: Just got out of dance class. Dads gone for the weekend. See you at home? 3

His grin becomes bigger. He fucking loved it when the Daddies Berry went on another one of their trips. It left him more than enough time to defile their daughter over and over and over again. His relationship with Berry was one of the more unexpected things that have ever happened to him but he's not going to deny it's also one of the best. She's hot, smart, funny, sweet, caring, supportive, understanding and a fucking wild woman in the sack. It's been 8 months and if he had his way, it's not going to end any time soon (like, ever).

So yeah, spending some quality (sexy) time with his girl definitely trumps spending another minute babysitting these two Jackass rejects he calls friends.

He replies to say he'll be there in a few before he turns back to the carnage. Finn has given up trying to balance on the board and instead is sitting down on the asphalt, taking notes from the other guy's technique.

Puck addresses his best friend. "I love Fridays."

"Of course you do," Finn says absently, his face scrunched up as he watches Sam coast on by with no apocalyptic consequences. "No school for two days."

He smirks all smug-like. "No, I love Fridays because I get to spend the weekend fucking my girlfriend while you two losers search for porn on the internet."

Finn gives him a half-grossed out, half-envious look that's pure Hudson and Puck laughs. He gets up and tosses his empty Big Gulp into the trash just as Sam comes in on his board. Puck stretches before fishing out his keys.

"You're an asshole, Puckerman," Finn mutters. Sam just looks between the two of them like he missed something.

"And you're hard up." He gives both guys a wink and a two-fingered salute. "Later, ladies."

He whistles Sweet Caroline all the way to the Berry house. As he kills the engine and looks up at the sprawling house, the only light coming from Rachel's room, he realizes he needs to change what he said earlier.

He fucking loves Fridays.