Hey! I was happily surprised at the number of hits Just Dance got, and it inspired me to write this up for you! It would be helpful if you could review as well as read too! :) Even if your review says, "THIS STORY SUCKS!"

Also, I think I should clarify something about these Drabbles. Unless I state it in the Author's Note, all of these are AU, with no relation to the show. So if you see something that isn't canon, that's probably why. Now, onward with the story!

WAIT! One more thing: I really wouldn't even have published the first chapter without foraworldundeserving. Seriously, she's the awesomest writer ever. So go check her out. But after you've read this, of course. ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. If I did, Klaine would've happened a long time before Original Song. Just saying.

Really, the whole incident wasn't his fault. Completely.

Alright, alright, maybe it was his fault and now everyone was pissed at him for it, but it had been well worth it in his opinion.

Every day, Jeff had a free period of sorts for studying and other boring activities. There were only one or two other Warblers in the room with him, and neither of them he knew very well. That big essay in Language Arts had been finished quickly, and he had no other work to do. And the class didn't get out for another forty-five minutes! He tried to be calm and daydream or something, but found that he was too naturally hyperactive to sit still that long. It was Friday for Pete's sake! No one was supposed to be able to focus on Friday! So, instead of another meek attempt at being good, he whipped out his phone with an evil smirk.

He fired off a quick text to Nick.

Hey sexy ;)

It was the text that started everything.

In his French classroom, Nick hovered threateningly over his piece of quiche, ready to attack and devour. It was one of the rare food days, and the room was especially noisy. The warm smell of the egg-bacon-onion-cheese confectionary circulated deliciously through the air, reminding him of how hungry he was. He'd gotten a late start this morning, and hadn't been able to catch any breakfast. Needless to say, when his phone vibrated in the pocket of his blazer, he was particularly annoyed.

"Who is it?" asked Trent on his right, taking a swig of Diet Coke.

Nick pulled out his cell and rolled his eyes. "It's Jeff."

He showed Trent the message, and they swapped looks of exasperation.

"Just leave it." Trent suggested, sticking his fork into his quiche once more.

"Will do." Nick agreed, taking his first, glorious bite.

Unfortunately, even Nick hadn't encountered Jeff when he was this intent on causing trouble. And Jeff didn't give up. Ever. He kept on peppering Nick with texts and picture mails (though what they were of, he wasn't sure he wanted to find out). After maybe seven or so minutes the texts stopped. Nick was just bordering on feeling relieved when Jeff took it to a whole new level and freaking called him.

Sure, no one really cared because of all the racket taking place anyway, and the teacher let phones slide on food days. Still, the people sitting near him shot him amused looks as My Humps cheeped from his pocket. Cursing, Nick dug out his phone and swiftly hit 'ignore' before turning it to silent mode. It took maybe ten seconds for Trent's phone to start vibrating maniacally and playing The Spice Girls's If You Want To Be My Lover, which was pretty darn embarrassing for a teenage male to have as a ringtone. Trent muttered a few swear words under his breath before switching his phone to silent and returning it to its place in his pants pocket.

Kurt was highly confused when he got two calls in quick succession in the middle of Language Arts. Maybe there was a god after all, because Mr. Richards failed to notice Push It pumping from his messenger bag. He grabbed his iPhone and frantically tried to ignore the incoming call, accidentally pressing the off button several times before the offending music stopped playing. After properly shutting the electronic up, he found the right setting to permanently silence it. He glanced surreptitiously to his left and saw Blaine fighting back laughter.

"Salt n Pepa?" Blaine asked amusedly, leaning leisurely back in his chair, "Is there a story behind that? Because that kind of music doesn't seem like it would be your taste."

Before Kurt could fully form a cutting, witty reply, Blaine's own cell decided now was a good time to begin ringing with a call. Whoever was calling him – and Kurt suspected Jeff to be the culprit – he figured that he owed them one. The result of the call was bust-a-gut worthy.

Hannah Montana's infamous Best of Both Worlds blasted from the speakers on Blaine's phone, causing the teasing smile to slide off of his face. He turned about three shades of red as he frantically tried to hush up the phone, pressing a bunch of random buttons in his haste. His ringtone before, Teenage Dream, had at least made sense. This, however…

Half the class was crying from mirth by the time Blaine managed to quiet his phone, and Kurt swore that Blaine was going to sink into the floor and not resurface.

"Hannah Montana?" Kurt was able to get out through his muffled snickers, "Really, Blaine? And you thought my ringtone was bad?"

Wes, David, and Thad were all working on a history project together, researching fascinating things such as the first people to come to Ohio, and how they had started their businesses there. Invigorating stuff. It was Thad's phone that rang first. He barely even batted an eye, completely unashamed of his Batman ringtone. Calmly, he picked up his phone and flicked over to his messages.

1 new message.

I loooooove pie =D

Thad frowned. Random much, Jeff? He opened his mouth to comment, but before he could, the Scooby-Doo theme struck the air. If David hadn't been so dark, he would've blushed a deep, mortified red.

"Now, David," Wes said, working overtime to keep his smile at bay, "Aren't we a little old for Saturday morning cartoons?"

Before David could even sputter an excuse, Wes's phone started freaking out, flashing and vibrating way too violently to be plausible.

Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?

Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?

Don't cha?

Don't cha, baby, don't cha?

Wes made a desperate grab for his cell, which slipped from between his fingers and clattered onto the floor. Some of his classmates turned around, snickering at the music coming from the electronic rectangle. David's jaw had fallen open in disbelief, and Thad had snorted, hunching his shoulders.

"You hypocrite!" David accused, frowning at his best friend. "The Pussy Cat Dolls? Do you actually like them?"

"No?" Wes offered meekly.

David gave him a look. Instead of admitting defeat, the Asian looked down at the screen of his phone. Whoever had done this to him was going to pay dearly in lost solos. No, they would pay worse than that. He would throw his gavel at them. Repeatedly.

Wes, why won't you answer me? :'(

Wes blinked at the message. Jeff had apparently found twenty different ways to paraphrase that question, along with several variations of 'I'm booooored' and 'Pie is WIN!'

At this point, Mr. Porter was glaring sternly at the three Warblers. Thad gave the teacher his best charming smile, radiating goody two-shoes innocence. Luckily for them, Mr. Porter generally favored Warblers, and after a few moments apparently decided to let the incident slide. He looked away, and Wes breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're not going to ever let this go, are you?" he asked David, pouting.

David smirked. "Nope."

Despite all of the shenanigans that took place, no one got it worse than Nelson. Jeff even felt kinda bad afterwards, despite the fact that it had been totally hilarious and he hadn't laughed that hard since who knows when.

Nelson had the exact same study hour that Jeff did, which is why he had avoided texting the older Warbler. He had no doubts at all that the bigger boy could pick him up, spin him in circles, and throw him across the Dalton soccer field. Not that Nelson was super-buff, but Jeff was a skinny guy.

So, taking this into consideration, it was his natural reaction to flip out and start cowering in his seat when Nelson's phone started playing the most terrifying song any self-respecting straight male could fathom – Friday, by Rebecca Black.

"Dude, don't tell me you like that song." Cameron said, looking up from his Calculus textbook.

"Shut up!" Nelson snapped, sliding the battery out of his phone.

Before the screen died, Jeff swore he saw a glimpse of Rebecca Black wallpaper. He pressed his lips together in an effort not to smirk. This was so going to be used as blackmail later.

Okay, okay, so what if they'd cornered him in the cafeteria later? So what if he still ached from being smacked upside the head so many times, and he was convinced that his hair would never part the same way ever again? It wasn't his fault.

…Entirely.

A little longer than the last chapter, but not by much! What did you think? Good? Bad? Horrible? Personally, I love Jeff. :) Let me know via review what your thoughts are! Again, all flames will be used to destroy Rachel's terrible wardrobe. I'm thinking about burning the tights this time.

~SquirrelzAttack