Acknowledges for Ian's Nose Will Rule The World:
LupaCaerulea: Hehe, thank you! And thanks for reviewing!
Superkami: I totally agree! His nose is like, ridiculously big... And thanks!
MrsRayKon: Thank you, and that line about his nose was pure genius. I loved it.
So, this is number #2 in the But... Why? series.
I don't think this one was as humorous as Ian's Nose Will Rule The World, and there's less dialogue. But I tried to make it as funny as I could.
Please tell me if you think the rating is too low, as it contains slight violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade. Unfortunately.
Bryan sighed and closed his eyes. The house was peaceful, the only noise was the clock ticking rhythmically.
Quiet... Something he missed. Despite the fact he was known for being the dangerously psychopathic member of the Blitzkrieg Boys, he wasn't all death threats and violence. Mainly, but not all. He enjoyed silence as well, which was why he always looked forward to bed time.
All of the other Blitzkrieg Boys were out at some carnival thing. Bryan had refused to go, having said: 'carnivals are for sissy's with no life.' The blindingly vibrant colours, the stupid people dressing up in costumes, the sweet food and happy children; not his type of thing.
And now he was sitting on his favourite armchair, reading his favourite book, grateful for the peace and quiet.
"Hey idiot, whatcha reading?" Bryan's eyes snapped open. There, standing before him, was the devil himself. The person who terrified everything within a two-mile radius, the person who gave children and adults nightmares, the person who could make an amazing apple crumble.
Tala.
"Unless you can give me a very good explanation why you are here, I will throw this book at you." Bryan threatened, raising the novel. No polite greetings, no friendly smile, it was straight to the abusive threats. Good old Bryan.
"The carnival was boring. No one even died." Tala shrugged and flopped onto the sofa. Bryan growled, realising that he was going to gave to spend the next few hours with this... Person.
"Are the others still there? Bryan asked.
"Yeah," Tala replied "they're coming back later." Bryan nodded and cast his eyes to his book. He hoped that Tala wouldn't make too much noise; he really wanted to finish the story.
"Bryan? Say 'she sells seashells on the sea shore.'" Tala suddenly said. Bryan looked up, raising an eyebrow.
"What?" He hissed.
"I said, say 'she sells seashells on the sea shore.'" Tala explained slowly, like he was talking to a toddler.
"No." Bryan glared at his friend suspiciously. Knowing Tala, he had probably put some kind of trap door above Bryan so when he repeated the tongue-twister a live lion would be dropped onto him.
"Aw, please? I'll annoy you if you don't." Tala poured childishly, arms crossed. Bryan sighed wearily.
"Fine. She sells seashells on the sea shore." He said. Tala pressed his lips together, his milky porcelain skin turning red. After a few seconds he couldn't hold the laughter in, and burst into giggles.
"Oh my god! That is priceless!" He laughed, pointing at a very confused Bryan.
"Would you mind explaining why you're laughing?" Bryan scowled at the wolf, who tried to compose himself.
"Your voice! You sound like you've swallowed a jar of syrup!" The redhead exclaimed. Bryan's eyes widened dangerously.
"Hey! Stop making fun of my voice. At least I don't spend hours everyday on my hair!" He protested. Tala smiled at the sound of Bryan, trying desperately not to start laughing again.
"Do you have some kind of fungus growing in the back of your throat? Some kind of poisonous mushroom?" He asked, causing Bryan to turn red.
"Tala, I highly suggest that you shut the hell up." He cautioned. But Tala obviously didn't get the hint.
"Why is your voice so weird? Do you have a permanent cold? Do you need to see a doctor?" Bryan twitched, staring daggers at his friend, who was practically rolling around on the sofa laughing his head off.
"Tala. Just because I've known you for years, I won't hesitate to throw something extremely heavy at you." The falcon warned. But Tala still didn't shut up.
"You sound like Tyson when he's singing! Shall I get you a drink of water?" The redhead asked, wiping away tears of laughter.
Bryan clenched his fists. If Tala didn't shut up soon, he would be forced into doing something drastic.
"But you shouldn't worry about your voice, Bryan. Only most people find it weird if someone has something freakishly unnatural about them. And, by the way, Mr Bean called and asked for his- no, Bryan, what are you doing? Stop, put it down Bryan. Bryan! Don't!" Tala's eyes widened as Bryan picked up the table, sending it's contents all over the floor. Magazines, pens, a few mugs and a vase of dying flowers hit the carpet.
"Bryan, calm. Think... Uh... Bright, happy thoughts!" Tala begged. But if the falcon heard, he clearly didn't show it.
Tala ducked as the oak table swung towards his head. But not low enough. The wood connected with his head with a crack, and he fell to the floor unconscious.
"Who's laughing now, huh, Tala?" Bryan grinned psychotically. Tala lay unmoving on the floor, a purple bruise forming on the side of his head.
Bryan cringed guiltily. He probably shouldn't have whacked his friend around the head with a table... But he was asking for it!
Spencer was another issue. The whale was sure to go crazy, lecturing Bryan about maturity and responsibility and learning how to control his anger. There was no escape. Unless he hid the body...
He snapped into action, throwing Tala over his shoulder like a rag doll. Grateful that the redhead weighed practically nothing, Bryan looked around the room, searching for a place to hide his friend. Behind the sofa was far too obvious... He wouldn't fit down the toilet... So where?
Suddenly, he had an idea. The cupboard under the stairs. Of course! No one ever went in there, and it even had a lock in case Tala decided to murder him in his sleep. It was the perfect solution.
Bryan walked across the front room, kicking mugs out of his way. When he reached the cupboard he threw open the door and carefully set Tala down on the freezing concrete. He probably wouldn't freeze to death.
Tala lay on the floor, his lifeless body covered with the shadows of forgotten objects. Bryan silently closed the cupboard door and locked it. Problem diverted.
Later that day, when Spencer and Ian had returned from the carnival, the three of them sat in the front room watching Chocolat on DVD. The film drowned out Tala's furious cries from under the stairs, and it was only when he was going to bed when Bryan remembered his friend. It was fair to say that Tala was not happy. Or particularly warm, either...
He really does need to take a few anger management classes...
No offence to anyone who goes to/ takes part in carnivals. Hey, I do too! The insults were only meant to link to Bryan's character.
Please R&R!