"AH, TOM!"

Georg and Gustav look up once they hear Bill scream. The bassist looks at his friend, confused.

"What the hell was that about?"

Gustav simply shrugs. "I dunno. Should we go check it out?"

"OW! DAMN IT, THAT HURT!"

". . .I don't know if I want to." Georg mumbles.

"Stop being such a baby." The blonde says and drags his friend out of his chair, walking to the singer's room.

They both pause outside the door to listen.

"SHIT, THAT HURT, TOM!"

"Well, sorry, Bill! You're moving too damn much!"

"I WOULDN'T MOVE SO DAMN MUCH IF YOU WOULD STOP TRYING THAT!"

"Just relax damn it!"

The G's look at each other then back at the door as a dead silence falls over the two twins.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Bill screams.

"SORRY!"

"IT HURTS LIKE A MOTHER!"

"Stop screaming, damn it! And maybe if you would stop moving, it wouldn't hurt!" Tom shouts.

"It wouldn't hurt at all if you hadn't even put it in there!" Bill yells back.

"You told me to!"

"Since when have you ever listened to me? NOW GET THIS THING OUT, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

Georg looks at the door with an incredulous expression, not knowing whether to laugh or just run back to the living room and pretend he never heard any of this.

"OW! HELL, GET IT OUT, TOM!"

"OH GOD, IT'S STUCK!"

"WHAT?"

"YOU HEARD ME, NOW STOP SQUIRMING, I'M TRYING TO GET IT OUT!"

"OW, YOU PULLED IT TOO HARD!"

"STOP MOVING AND MAYBE I WON'T PULL SO HARD!"

A loud thump registers in Georg's mind and he looks over at Gustav, only to find his friend passed out on the floor, the unconscious drummer blushing a bright crimson.

"SHIT, IT'S REALLY STUCK!" Tom hisses.

"I TOLD YOU THAT IT WAS TOO BIG! NOW, GET IT OUT, DAMN IT!" Bill orders.

"I'M TRYING!"

"TRY HARDER!"

"I'M TRYING AS HARD AS I CAN!"

"THAT'S WHAT GOT US HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE, YOU TWIT! PULL THE DAMN THING OUT!"

"STOP MOVING!"

"GET IT OUT OR IT'LL GO UP YOURS!"

"TECHNICALLY, IT'S STILL IN YOURS!"

And with that, Georg has one of the biggest nosebleeds known to man before passing out.

Meanwhile in the singer's bedroom, Bill's head meets the desk's hard wood surface with a loud 'thunk'. "How the hell did you get my favorite brush stuck in my hair?" He groans, glaring at his twin's form in the mirror.

"How the hell do you manage to brush your hair?" Tom retorts, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The younger male tugs at the large brush stuck in his mane of ebony hair, a pained whimper leaving his lips. He throws his hands up in defeat, his head meeting the wooden desk again. "I. Give. Up." He says, voice muffled by the wood.

"Let me try again." Tom says, gently tugging the brush out of his twin's hair. "Got it."

". . ."

"Billa?"

An evil gleam sparkles in the singer's eyes and Tom pales.

"You know what? I think Andreas called me!" The dreadlocked teen squeaks before sprinting out.

Bill follows, jumping over the bodies of his unconscious, perverted friends. "I'm not gonna hurt you, Tomi, just maybe seriously injure you!" He calls, quickly running after his twin.

And this is just a regular day for our boys in Tokio Hotel.