I own nothing but this weird story. Throttle is about 20 in this story.

Throttle dragged his feet into the home of Modo's Mama, where surrounding the kitchen table sat Modo, Vincent, Mama and Stoker. Everyone looked up at the exhausted and dusty Mouse.

Stoker crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes before saying, "Care to explain why I got a very angry call from Army Comandante Mercury, that his daughter had gone missing at the same time as the punk that I've been the guardian of for six years? And where the heck you two have been for days?"

Mama jumped up from the table marching up to him with a worried, angry look on her face. "How could you not tell anyone before disappearing like that? Haven't I treated you like one of my own children? I've been worried sick that you were captured by Raiders or laying dying somewhere?" Her eyes suddenly grew as she took in a sharp breath, noticing that his upper arm and shoulder had a dirty bandage on it, "Oh my gosh, what happened to your arm? You were shot!?"

"No! No, I wasn't shot. And of course your family to me, you've been like a mom, and i would never worry you on purpose." Sighing as he sunk into a chair he added, "I just forgot to think, and acted...stupidly, in the heat of the moment."

"Bro, please tell me you didn't marry that army brat!" Vincent yelled, looking horrified. "She may be hot, but it's not worth it, you're still young and there are a million babes out there!" He stopped his rant as Modo hit him upside the head with his metal hand.

Nodding to Modo, Stoker, smirking, said, "Thanks, he was getting loud." Turning back to the worn looking tan young man he asked, "Care to elaborate on your little story, kid?"

Looking at the table in front of him, he mumbled, " Carbine and I decided to get matching tattoos, and we remembered in Red Sky camp there was a guy that would do it for cheap."

"Throttle!" Looking like she was scolding a child, Mama put her hands on her hips, "Have you lost your mind? That place is a dump and I've met that man, he probably doesn't even clean his needles, you could have gotten an infection or worse."

"I know, trust me, I know. And as much as they hurt I think the needles were dull too." He winced as he rubbed his bandaged arm. "If it helps my case any, I think I've suffered enough this week for a lifetime."

Modo couldn't help but ask, "Did he mess up the tattoo?"

"No, it turned out great. It's the Freedom Fighter symbol." Looking at his Bros he frowned, " But Carbine had a little problem."

Stoker sat up straight with worry, "What happened?"

"Well, apparently the rusty needles and half drunk tattoo artist made her nervous, because when I told her it was her turn she..."

"WHAT?!" Everyone shouted, unable to stand the suspense.

Like pulling off a band-aid, Throttle blurted out, "She puked on me and chickend out!"

Vincent began laughing so hard he fell off his chair, and Modo wasn't much better. Stoker, who was barely managing to keep a straight face at the sight of Mama covering her mouth with a kitchen towel to hide her giggles, finally managed to ask, "So when you say puked on you, you mean your boots or, ha, your shirt?"

Looking at his mentor as the man teased him, Throttle looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock. "I mean,... I picked a bad time to lean in for a kiss." Barley audible he continued, "And it got worse."

Vincent, laughing, asked, "How, ha, could it, teehee, possibly get worse?"

Pulling the bandage off his arm to reveal the red, swollen, and sore looking tattoo, he almost cried, "I got an infection."

A. N. Why do I enjoy torturing Throttle?