There Will Be Jonas Blood

It was a Sunday afternoon in Tulsa, Oklahoma when the trio of Jonas' waltzed out of the prepaid suite at The Embassy towards 33rd street where said prepaid rental car awaited for them. 'Amazing,' said Joe to kill the still silence between the brothers. 'With everything that was given to us this weekend, we don't have a chauffer.'

'And have we become inapt to drive ourselves?' Kevin looked in front off them, the described Ford Fusion parked awkwardly at the corner. 'Has fame retarded us?'

'Apparently, since retarded is now a word,' said Nick.

'I mean this with seriousness. Neither of you find this past weekend slightly fucking weird,' his tone was incredulous and Nick and Joe stopped to stare at the pending meltdown. 'Out of no where, some super generous Jonas lover offers an all expense paid trip to Tulsa, Oklahoma, or buttfuck USA, so this little town can giggle and coo as we bop place to place signing autographs and taking pictures. No gigs, no lame commercialism, not even a sexual advance, nothing. We don't even know who paid for any of this!'

'Dude,' Nick rolled his eyes in exaggeration. 'Why the fussing? Obviously this schmuck wanted a little excitement for this place. I mean, who has even heard of Tulsa anyway? What the fuck does this place have to offer? What good has come from its measly existence?'

'I agree,' Joe began to twirl the rentals keys between his thumb and pointer. 'It's probably some old rich prude who's forefathers' forefathers, et cetera, founded this place and its hit a slump and needed a small boost. And, c'mon,' he scoffed, 'I'm pretty sure we could piss in bottles and eBay the fuck out of it.'

'That's semi-repulsive,' Nick agreed. 'But unfortunately correct.'

Kevin's faced scrunched in disgust, 'Dude. I think it's more than that. I feel, like, we're being setup.'

Several beats of silence followed before the younger siblings fell into a fit of laughter. After the snorting and tear wiping minimized, Nick started with, 'Why on earth would someone target some Goddamn teenybopper band?'

'Like, this is some crazy talk, dearest and oldest brother,' Joe picked up. 'This is fame cracking into the membrane. Before you know it, you're on some VH1 "Celebreality" bullshit show, covered in tats and severely overweight.' He thought for another minute. 'Maybe we should talk to mom. I'm thinking we're due for a reprieve. Now, let's go. We have that little meet and greet over at the Jazz Hall of Fame.'

'Unfortunate that the only jazz I know is what Family Guy references too,' Nick sighed and they both started to walk again.

Kevin did not. 'Think about it. Nick.' They stopped again. 'For whatever fucking reason housekeeping decided to fire up that Jacuzzi and bathtub bit that was in your room. You step out for two seconds and the whole place has an electric surge. You return to your bathroom to find a fucking blow dryer that happened to be plugged in and that happened to tip over into the tub?' He turned his attention to Joe. 'You too! It just so happens to be a coincidence that somebody bought just you dessert when we ate out with the mayor last night. Thank God you were full as fuck or else it'd be you in the hospital spewing out a fucking spleen instead of the mayor's nephew!'

Nick and Joe exchanged looks. Nick looked annoyed, his gaze falling back to the rented vehicle then back at Joe, whose expression was drenched in concern. 'This is some sick thinking, man,' he spoke up finally. 'Some serious accusations, but alas, no butler to pin this all on. I mean, seriously, who would want us dead?'

'It's too extravagant,' Joe agreed. 'Too elaborate. There has got to be an easier way to kill us off. Why the wine and dine?' He clasped a hand on his brother's shoulder. 'Let's go and be done with this damn Jazz thang and we can return our happy asses homeward and forget all about Tulsa.'

He was reluctant but fell in line and the brunette trio again made there way to the rental. They were about a hundred feet away from the car when a black cat came from seemingly nowhere. Kevin reached out and grabbed both brothers and they all stood and stared at the cat who stared back, unblinking, before avoiding crossing and cursing their path and made a beeline for their car instead. With feline elegance, it leapt up and was met by a blaze of fury that threw the three boys onto their backsides, singed and out of breath. Joe finally propped himself onto his elbows and stared at the burning skeleton of what was their prepaid rental. A smoldering clump of fur dropped next to him. 'Jesus.'

Kevin took several deep gulps before asking, 'Explain that.'

They dragged themselves upwards, brushing off their designer clothes and occasionally glancing at the heap of charred metal.

'Fuck it,' Kevin pulled out his cellphone and began to dial. 'We're going home. No more band. All our attention will be diverted to Christ and exuding Christ-like love.'

Joe snatched the phone from him, 'Jesus Christ, Kevin—'

'Don't take His name in vain!'

'—it's obviously a gas leak or something.' He snapped the phone shut and slipped it into a jean pocket. 'What we should do is dial 9-1-1 or something.'

Nick shook his head, 'I'm gonna go get something to eat.'

Kevin pivoted to face his youngest brother. 'Divine interference has just happened and you want to go eat?'

Nick shrugged; his expression was indifferent. 'So much good has happened to us lately, it seems right to have a bout of bad luck.' He looked back. 'Besides, it's not like any of us were killed.'

Female shrieks caused them all to turn and look back at two teenagers, between the ages sixteen to eighteen, rushing over. The blonde grinned like the Cheshire cat while the brunette's head bobbed up and down while babbling on about, 'the Jonas brothers! I totally told you I saw them! You so did not believe me either and they are totally right the fuck here!'

'Oh my God,' spat the blonde. 'We totally saw you miss that near death experience. So 007 shit! I am so fucking buying you CD and telling all my friends!'

'Can we buy you lunch or something? We already, like, called 9-1-1,' there were the cued distant sirens wailing away. 'They'll be here soon. Wanna avoid the crowds? The Spudder Restaurant is way decent.'

Linking elbows with the groupies, Joe and Nick trudged onwards to the fans' Scion. Kevin took another long look at what would have been their finale before following.

Crowds poured into the streets, buzzing with gossip about the burning debris and the Jonas brothers' CD, A Little Bit Longer. Firemen poured from the truck, dousing the flames and sending out word that they wanted to talk with what should have been victims for a full recount.

Three blonde strangers stood on the outskirts of the crowds. Each face had the youth rubbed out; there was a filmy hardness growing over each pair of eyes like cataracts. One stepped forward, those hard eyes locked onto the billowing smoke from their third failed attempt. Through gritted teeth, he said, 'God, I hate them. I fucking hate them.'

Another placed his hand on his shoulder, 'Easy Zac. Soon, little brother. We'll get them soon enough.'

'So fucking arrogant,' the third spat. '"Measly existence!" We have an incredibly fucking state fair. And we are rich with art and history. We have world-renowned art museums, full-time professional opera and ballet companies! Tulsa has one of the nation's largest concentrations of art deco architecture! We have the first Goddamn Christian Church!'

'Really, Isaac,' he looked up. 'Goddamn and Christian church wrapped up in one sentence?'

'No lecture today, Taylor,' Isaac growled back. 'All that damn money to lure those GQ inbreds out here and for what?'

'I agree,' Zac turned back to face the other two. 'Won't these silly "accidents" just make them music martyrs?'

'Patience, brothers,' said Taylor, his voice cool and controlled. 'We will rid ourselves of those silly Disney poptarts and then Hanson can have an incredible comeback. But for now, all that Studder talk has made me hungry.' Isaac and Zac gave their brother an incredulous look. 'Let's go eat,' said Taylor.