Me: Well, I came up with this idea a while ago, and Saint and Bell liked it, so...
Max: -facepalm- So you wrote what is possibly the most disturbing story ever?
Me: Nah, that rated M Max x Max II was pretty damn disturbing.
Max: I supposedly had sex with myself?
Me: Yep.
Max: ...No comment.
Me: Do I need a disclaimer? I obviously don't own this shit...
Max: Yeah, I don't think anyone'll believe you're JP...
Max sighed and sat down on the floor. Why had she locked herself in Fang's room? Simple. She wanted to go through his stuff before anyone else could. And before anyone else could interfere.
Not that anyone would, of course, since she had been given lots of personal space since Fang left.
She sighed again and put his shirts back into their drawer. While what she was doing was wrong from many perspectives, she saw the belongings Fang had left behind as the Flock's now. And she wanted to search for... Well, she didn't know what she was looking for. Something to remember Fang by.
Or maybe something to help her forget.
She picked his laptop up off of his desk and opened it. When it requested a password, she closed it and put it back. Ah, whatever... she thought, and she opened it again.
She stared at the password box, deep in thought. There's no way this is the password, but here goes nothing...
The box disappeared and the desktop loaded. Fang was clearly no good at passwords... "MaximumRide" was way too easy to crack.
For the first time, Max was having doubts about what she was doing. For some reason, going through someone's closet wasn't as much of an invasion of privacy as going through someone's computer was.
But this was hers now. So, therefore, everything Fang had done was too. She sighed and began clicking.
The first four folders were things she had already seen, but she looked through them anyway. She was unfamiliar with the next one, but it was nothing interesting: to-do lists, backups of blog posts, etc.
The sixth folder was... Well, it was really just random assorted crap, albeit interesting random assorted crap.
There was no seventh folder.
Max continued to sift through the computer. She saw that Fang had really high scores on the pinball game, but he had a terrible record at Minesweeper. He was pretty good at Solitaire, apparently, but it looked like he had never figured out Freecell. He had also downloaded a few games- Icy Tower, Bejeweled, Creeper World, and other famous internet games- and was okay at those.
He had a massive iTunes library, which, unsurprisingly, was loaded with bands like My Chemical Romance and My Bloody Valentine, but also had a little bit of blink-1...
"F#$% A Dog"? What the hell? Max thought. Someone had a strange sense of humor. She figured the Shakira was there for Nudge, and...
She Thinks My Tract... Okay, he clearly had a twisted sense of humor... Max closed iTunes and noted the "Limewire" icon. That explained the 4000+ songs... Fang was a pirate. Arrgh.
She moved on, noticing he had tagged various hard-to-reach locations in Google Earth. If she was gonna look for him, she now knew where to start. But Guam, Fang? Really?
With nothing left to go through, she started to close the computer. Noticing the little trash can icon, however, she decided to take one last look.
There were a few scattered mp3s, a "How to Beat Minesweeper" document that looked suspiciously fake, and a little unnamed folder.
Max restored them all and opened the mp3s first. As she had expected, they were, well, songs Fang had downloaded that weren't quite what was expected. "HELENA rippedby iAMreAlLyAnOYiNG," for example, was really the Teletubbies theme song.
And, as she expected, "How to Beat Minesweeper" automatically sent her to a site that was immediately blocked by the anti-virus software. That one went straight back into the trash.
The little unnamed folder had a video in it called "Sock Puppet Theatre." She figured it was one of those viral videos that Fang thought was funny enough to save. She clicked it and waited for the video to load.
If her jaw hadn't been attached to her face, it would have been on the floor.
"IGGY! DYLAN! GET YOUR ASSES IN HERE!"
The two walked in slowly. Rather, Iggy walked in slowly. Dylan still hadn't learned just how bad Max could be when she was pissed off, so he strolled, yes, strolled, in with a "Hey, Max, what's u- OW! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"
Max rubbed the back of her hand after she slapped him. "Explain THIS," she demanded, pointing to the video.
"Dylan?" Iggy asked.
"Yeah?"
"Is this the video I think it is?"
"Unfortunately."
"OKAY," Max interrupted, "WHICH ONE OF YOU IS GONNA EXPLAIN?"
Dylan blushed. "Well... Iggy, Fang, and I were home alone... So we set up a video camera and decided to... Uh..."
"Experiment," Iggy finished.
"Experiment," Max repeated. "Experiment. You call this experimenting? It sure looks like you know what you're doing!"
Dylan thought for a second. "No, wait, we filmed it the thir-"
Iggy whacked him. "No, it was definitely a one-time deal..."
Max stared. "YOU DID THIS MORE THAT ONCE?"
Dylan blushed again. "Yeah..."
Max paused and gathered herself. "So... You're telling me that you three... When you guys were all alone... Had GAY THREE-WAY SEX?"
Iggy looked aghast. "Of course not Max! What do you think we are? Man-sluts?"
Max just stared. "Well, that's what you look like..."
Dylan chimed in, saying "Yeah, Max. It's called a threesome, and we did it a few times when we weren't home alone... In fact, this bed here wa-"
Iggy whacked him again. "Dylan! Shut up!"
Max just stared in disbelief.
"Max, you know those black-and-white patterned sheets?" Dylan asked. Max nodded, still dazed.
"Dylan, I swear, if you..." Iggy started, but he was too late.
"They were just black when Dr. M bought them."
Max could feel her brain cells committing suicide.
"Oh, by the way Max, since Fang's gone now, we're down a fuckbuddy, so if you're interested..."
"DYLAN! DO YOU KNOW THE DEFINITION OF SHUT UP?"
After running/flying for their lives, Iggy and Dylan sat up in the highest branches of a nearby tree.
They were holding on for dear life.
Because they were laughing so hard.
"Dude! I can't believe she believed us!" Dylan gasped in between laughs.
"I know! Greatest prank ever!" Iggy said.
"That's one for the history books! Highfive!" Dylan said, holding up his hand.
"I'm blind, Dylan..."
"Right, sorry, forgot."
"But, dude, that was epic," Iggy said, breaking the awkwardness.
"Yeah, I know. Did you see the look on her face? Classic!"
"Again, Dylan, you're forgetting an important little detail."
"Sorry," Dylan said. "Wanna head back and tell her before she does anything drastic?"
"Yeah, that'd be a good idea," Iggy agreed, and the duo flew back home.
"Hang on a second," Iggy said as Dylan was about to open Fang's bedroom door. "I hear something..."
"What is it?" Dylan asked, putting his ear to the door in hopes of finding out.
"...It's... It's that video..." Iggy stuttered.
Dylan stared. "What is she doing?"
Iggy just shrugged. "Maybe she's figured out it's fake..."
Dylan nodded. "Probably." Then he opened the door and walked in to a surprise.
"HOLY CRAP! MAX! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? AND WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?"
Max: -facepalm-
Me: -laughs-
Max: No... Just... No...
Me: How much you wanna bet I get flamed for breaking up the Fax in the worst possible way?
Max: Do you WANT to get flamed?
Me: This time, yes. BRING IT, BITCHES!
Max: -facepalm- You're crazy...
Me: What else is new?
Max: You know that nobody's gonna flame you now...
Me: -shrug- Regular reviews are cool with me.
Max: I will never understand you.
Me: That's a very good thing.
Thanks for reading! -Matt&Max