This is a collab I'm doing with a friend. Enjoy the randomness that will ensue xD!

Part 1: In which they decide to take a road trip

"…We'll pack up our junk and fly so far away, devote our selves to projects that sell, we'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe. Forget this Bohemian Hell, Oh~ Oh~"

"Do you know the way to Santa Fe? You know, tumbleweeds, prairie dogs…"

"Yeah~"

After the music with no discernible source ceased to play, and the trio had settled down from their perfectly choreographed, spontaneous, and eerily well synced musical act, they began to ponder the real question:

"How do we get to Santa Fe?" asked Mark.

They all looked at one another.

Roger, immediately rose with a genius idea in mind. "Maybe we should Google it!"

"What's Google?" asked Angel.

"Yeah, that's out." said Collins.

"Maybe we should just hotwire a car and go." suggested Angel.

"Or we could just take the 1967 Volkswagen hippie van that's parked outside that sketchy motel down the street that nobody has used for a while except for horny teenagers who can't wait to pop their cherry."

"Do we even have the key?" Collins asked.

"It's in the car." said Roger "Now, let's get going!"

The three men, and Angel, set out on their quest to find Santa Fe. They sang and danced in down the street in a manner that can only be described as perfectly choreographed as passersby gawked at them, trying to determine the source of the music that seemed to be coming from nowhere. They went to their respective living quarters and packed whatever they could throw into their baggage at a moment's notice.

They met up at the van later that day and shooed the busy bodies who were already occupying the vehicle away. After holding a vote, they decided that Mark was to be their driver and Roger was to be shotgun for the first part of the trip.

"So are we ready?" asked Mark

"On to Santa Fe!" sang Angel.

"… But…What road do we, like, take. I mean, we've got no directions or anything."

"Well, just take some west-bound interstate." Collins said

"Why not south?" Roger interrupted.

Mark and Collins turned to look at him. "Why would you take south?"

"Because that way we could swing by Kentucky for fried chicken and a banjo."

Angel who had been gazing out the window listening to the mindless prattle interrupted. "Roger, honey, why would you need a banjo?" she asked, giving him a look that was something between pity for his lack of mental capacity and deep consternation.

"Every musician needs a banjo, that's why."

Collins nodded. "I see. But if you play that thing anywhere near the vicinity of my ear, I will not hesitate to eviscerate you with a wooden spoon."

"That's a bit dark."

Angel rolled her eyes "Can we just get on the road?"

"I'm taking south, guys. " Mark said. "I have this feeling that kinda feels like some chick from North Carolina wants Roger to get his chicken and a banjo…I can't quite explain it."

"Awww YEAH!" cheered Roger as he pulled an entire sack of baconburgers out of his bag.

"What are you, the baconburglar?" asked Collins.

"So I have developed a taste for artery-clogging fried pork. Sue me…Want one?"

"I don't eat anything that had a mother, thank you."

"…Egg salad then?"

"What part of vegan don't you get?"

"But eggs were technically never mothered."

"They count as being an animal product. That, and eggs are a by-product of the chicken's menstrual cycle. I'm not eating chicken-period salad."

Mark put down the egg-salad sandwich he had been eating, carefully wrapped it back in the aluminum foil, and threw it out the window. "Let's just go before Collins ruins anymore of my favorite foods."