"Well here we are, boys," Charles stepped off the bus and into the muggy heat of Florida mid-June. He pulled his sunhat further down over his eyes. Charles hated heat. "Westminister Oaks."
"Gods dis place is so dooms and gloom," Skwisgaar muttered, tying his hair back. "Dis is worst place to evers go on vaca—" He stopped talking and stared, mid hair pull, at probably three GMILFs paraded in front of him.
"Dis is best place in de whole worlds…"
"Skwisgaar, your boner is showing," Nathan mumbled and pushed back a lock of his raven hair. The boner was extremely noticeable.
"Ja is real bigs boner!" Toki bounced around Skwisgaar, poking at his waist, "Yous gross!"
"Shuts up, Toki," Skwisgaar growled and pushed him away, "Don't pokes me… no really stops. Toki, stops poking—STOPS POKING ME!!"
"Tryings to make you tent disappear, dumb ass." Toki stuck out his tongue and poked at the front of the tent. Skwisgaar shivered and growled.
"Murderface, get out here," Charles called into the Dethbus. "Don't make me use… you know what,"
"I'M NOT LEAVING THISCH SCHPOT." Murderface howled.
"Well ok," Charles inhaled deeply. He held his breath a few moments before calling into the bus.
"HEY PAL, IT'S ME. FACE BONES!! I'M HERE TO TELL YOU TO GET OUT OF THE BUS. RIGHT. NOW."
Yes, Charles used his Face Bones voice. Everyone suffered.
"NO!! FUCKFACE!!" Murderface shrieked back, holding his ears to his head. Charles panted and gathered himself for another round.
"NOW MURDERFACE, I KNOW YA HATE IT HERE BUT YA GOTTA GET OUT OF THE BUS AND SEE YOUR GRANDMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…"
And yes, he dragged out the last syllable to annoy Murderface.
"Fine!! God," Murderface practically fell out of the bus, "Your throat must be killing you,"
"That's beside the point," Charles' voice was hoarse now, as it always was when he had to continually screech a word, "Let's go see your grandparents,"
"Brutal, dood," Pickles was last out, after applying several coats of SPF 67 sun block. He was determined not to burn during this trip.
"Shut up," Charles always got grouchy after having to do Face Bone's voice. The day he had to record the whole thing for Fan Day, he nearly killed a roadie for giving him room temperature water instead of ice water.
"Gods, what smells like coconut?" Skwisgaar looked over to Pickles, keeping Toki way from him by holding his head out at arm's length.
"That'd be me. Lots of sunscreen. I will NOT burn on this trip," Pickles prided his own genius and smirked to himself.
"Your nose is turning red," Nathan point out and poked his nose. Pickles eyes crossed to see the reddening skin.
"FUCK!!"
"You can put on some more sun block after we visit. I had to reserve both guest rooms and even then, two of us have to sleep on the floor," Charles eyes the Americans suspiciously. All at once, the four touched their noses and screamed "NOSE GOES!!"
"What??" Toki and Skwisgaar looked over in confusion. Nathan and Murderface started to laugh.
"You guysch gotta schleep on the floor!"
"Oh fucks wit dat, I not doingk dat! I calls Pickle bed," Skwisgaar pushed Pickles over into the bus.
"Like hell you do!!" Pickles shot himself at Skwisgaar's waist and tackled him into Toki.
"KNOCK IT OFF!!" Nathan bellowed and the scuffle that had broken out stopped immediately. "Wait until we get into the rooms, GOD,"
"Holds on," Toki poked his head up from the bottom of the pile, "Why we can'ts just sleep in de Dethbu… HEY!!" Toki's face fell when the roadies threw out six suitcases and drove the Dethbus out of the home and onto the highway.
"WHAT THE HELL?! AHFDENSEN WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Pickles wailed and jumped at the manager.
"I didn't tell them to do this…"
"What the hell?! My video gamesch were on that! How am I gonna beat Picklesch' score on Wheelchair Bound DS??"
Murderface was suddenly pegged in the head with a black Nintendo DS. He fell over.
"Well that answers that question… okay, let's go get these rooms." Pickles climbed out from in between the two Scandinavians, leaving the two to start a vicious slap fight on the ground.
"Scho wait, how'sch this going to work? They're juscht gonna be on the floor or in the schame room? What?"
"Let's get to the rooms and then decide how this will work," Charles sighed and dragged Skwisgaar and Toki along on the ground. They continued to fight.
--
"William!" Stella Murderface wheeled over to her grandson and grabbed his hands, "I'm so happy you came!"
"Das what she said," Skwisgaar muttered to Pickles.
"Yeah uh, well… ya know…" Murderface shrugged lamely and glanced to his grandfather in his high-tech wheelchair. "Hi…"
"Hello William," The robotic voice muttered. After a short pause, it said, "Kill me."
"Yeah, get right on that."
"So how long are you boys staying?" Stella smiled hopefully up to Murderface.
"Couple daysch, I think… actually, our tour busch wasch… hi-jacked or schomething scho," Murderface shrugged again.
"The roadies aren't responding to my calls," Charles sighed and pocketed his DethPhone. "We're stuck here for a while."
"Grandmaface, you gots any hard candies??" Toki bounced up to her and held out his hands.
"Rights here in my pant, Toki," Skwisgaar snickered to Pickles again.
"Why yes I do. Let me just find it…" Stella searched her handbag for an annoying length of time, during which, Toki continued to bounce.
"Actually," Nathan stepped in and pushed Toki back from the elderly woman, "Toki's got diabetic. But I'll take 'em,"
"Oh sorry, dear," Stella tipped over her purse and let a waterfall of hard candies fall into Nathan's waiting hands, "I don't seem to have very many today. But I'll get some sugar-free ones at the store,"
Toki gave Nathan a very ugly look as the front man shoveled the sweets into his mouth.
"You will die…" He hissed.
"Have you boys loaded your luggage into the guest rooms upstairs?"
"No, we juscht got here. Where isch it?" Murderface grabbed his suitcase and walked to the elevators.
"4th floor, William. I'll just see you all when you're all unpacked," Stella nodded to Thunderbolt and the two rolled off down the hallway.
"Alright, let's get a look at this piece of shit," Pickles groaned and struggled with his suitcase.
"Well this is…" Charles kicked the door open and frowned slightly, "Rather small,"
"You hears dat a lot, Charlie?" Skwisgaar hooted. The entire band burst into hysterics.
"Very clever, Skwisgaar. Thinking with your brain instead of your crotch for once," Charles bit back and threw his suitcase on the bed closest to the window.
"OOOOOOH!!" Nathan, Murderface, Pickles, and Toki all laughed at the diss. Skwisgaar seethed.
The room was a very strange shape. It would resemble a demented triangle on the floor plan, but to the casual observer, it looked like they just ran out of room for two guest rooms and cut the one in half. The beds were short singles, one close to the bathroom door and one near the window with room for a lounging chair in between. A TV was suspended 15 feet from the door, over the mini-fridge and half-dresser. A sorry looking coffee maker and a small stack of Styrofoam cups resided on the fridge.
"Ok, I'm sleeping in here. Who else?" Charles sat on his bed and kicked off his shoes. Not surprisingly, but strangely enough, the shoes landed together on the ground, right-side up and perfectly neatly.
"I'll take it. If Skwisgaar's sleepin in here it's gonna be the Death match of the century," Pickles smirked and put his suitcase at the foot of his bed.
"Where de fucks I am goingks to sleeps??" Skwisgaar frowned. Charles pointed to the four foot clearance between his and Pickles' beds.
"On the floor, of course."
"Greats." Skwisgaar snorted and heaved his own luggage at his space.
"Hows fittings. For de dogs of de group!" Toki laughed. No one else did. "What? No he's... he a dogs… because he a womanizer and sleeps arounds. And now he on de floors."
"…"
"OH SCREW YOU ALL OFF. I'm fucksing hilarious."
"Well, I guess that means me, Toki, and Murderface are all in the next room." Nathan sighed and went to Guest Room "B".
"I call the bed next to the bathroom!" Murderface shouted and followed after Nathan, as did Toki.
"Pfft. Dildos." Skwisgaar was opening his luggage to see what the roadies packed him. A few shirts, pants, belts, and some covers in case he needed them. He gaped in horror.
There were then three simultaneous screams of terror.
"OUR GUITARS!!" All three guitarists shouted.
"Excuse me?" Charles was shucking off his suit jacket and looking for more comfortable clothes.
"Mines guitars is nots here!! My Explorer!!" Skwisgaar tore the clothes from his suitcase in vain attempt to find his guitar.
"Ah that sucks." Pickles was looking through his suitcase as well. He found his drumsticks, but nothing that even resembled a drum. "Hm. Looks like I'm back to the old Middle School Drummer trick."
"What is the—"Charles soon found out. Pickles started using every surface within reach as a drum. This was going to be annoying.
