As usual, mucho thank-you's to Fang and Saint for beta-ing! Sorry it took me so long to post. But I think, by Saturday, I wil have updated every story at least once. :)

Iggy: Only because she's had people bug her to update.

Me: -coughcoughVERAcoughcough-

~Max's POV~

"Uno!" Nudge and Gazzy exclaimed at the same time.

"This should be interesting…" Fang whispered to me. I grinned and laid down a card. Me, Nudge, Fang and Gasman had decided to play card games until Mom got home, just to give us something to do. I'm surprised Stacey hadn't told us we couldn't play cards because 'We might get a paper cut!'. She found something wrong with virtually everything else. Monopoly, we could get choked on a game piece; tag, we could trip and get hurt; mountain climbing, we might fall and break something. Granted, she didn't know about the wings, but still.

Fang had a turn after me, and he ruined Nudge's dreams of winning. With a neat flick of his wrist he laid down a draw 4 color wheel and said, "Blue." Nudge groaned and drew four cards out of our quickly shrinking deck, then laid down a blue eight. Gazzy grimaced when he realized his one card wasn't blue, then drew another out of the deck. He frowned when he didn't get the card he wanted. I smiled and laid down my card.

"Uno." I said, grinning. Fang laid down a blue card.

"Her last card is blue." He whispered to Nudge. "Change the color."

Obviously, he's never played this game with me before. He'll be in for a surprise. Nudge laid down a draw 4 color wheel, which ticked Gazzy off, but she changed the color to green. Gazzy took his turn, and I took my final turn, laying down a color wheel.

"No fair! That's cheating!" Nudge cried. "Fang said it was blue!"

"Well, Nudge," I said calmly, "in a way, it is blue. And red, green, and yellow."

"I quit. You two cheat." Nudge threw her cards down and got up from the table.

"I think I'm going to go see how Iggy's doing." Gazzy said and followed Nudge out of the kitchen.

"Play again?" Fang asked. I shook my head. "Okay, want to play War?"

Whoever made up that game, obviously had a lot of spare time on their hands. So did we, so I nodded and grabbed the deck of playing cards.

"What's fifty two divided by two?" I asked.

"Why don't you just deal until there aren't any cards left?" Fang questioned.

"That's too easy." I answered and started doing the math in my head. "Twenty-six. Twenty-six cards each. Okay." I started dealing the cards, but lost count around fifteen, so I just dealt until we were out. Fang laid down his top card and I laid down mine. I won.

Usually people make random small talk when they play this game. What would two teenage bird-kids talk about while they play a game of war? I didn't get to finish my thought, Fang beat me to the punch with a conversation starter of their own.

"If a stripper gets breast implants can she write that off as a business investment?" Fang asked me as we laid down our next cards. Seriously, this kid is starting to worry me. I just stopped and stared at him for a minute, then shook it off and answered, "Probably, if it helps her business. If not, it's a personal thing."

"I'd say it helped her." He mused.

"Who is this stripper, exactly?" I asked. "And who's her client?"

"Your sister, and Iggy."

"Ella and Iggy, huh? Well, I'd say no matter what Ella does to her body, it won't effect Iggy any. He can't see."

"But he can feel."

"True…I'd say that'd probably be a business investment."

"That's what I was thinking." I nodded and we continued with our game as I thought over what was just said.

"Did we seriously just have a conversation about my sister being a stripper for Iggy?" I asked. Fang nodded.

"Yup. I bet he'd like it if she wore, like, a bikini made out of food."

"Probably." I agreed.

"Like bacon."

"Or celery."

"Or a llama."

I looked at him and raised my eyebrows.

"A llama?"

"Yeah." He said. "You know, like, something made out of llama fur. I hear it's really soft."

"I bet it is." We played in silence for a while longer, until I won about an hour later. With new boredom sitting in, we both decided to go find something else to do. Which ended up being a failed mission, so we joined the rest of the flock for another movie. Great. This time, Angel got to pick the movie. Gazzy sat beside her, trying to convince her to pick a movie that he apparently really wanted to watch. After almost half an hour of contemplating(and no, that was not a hyperbole), she finally decided on Sky High. A movie about superheroes.

I sat down in the floor beside Fang, who inconspicuously put his arm around my waist, so Stacey wouldn't bite our heads off for subtle PDA. That chick is crazy. With a capital 'ka'. I felt myself drift into sleep halfway through the movie, and by the end, I was out.

I was shaken awake sometime later. I looked to my left, where someone was shaking my shoulder, but no one was there. Not even the flock. I looked around to find that I was completely alone in the house. There wasn't a sign of anyone.

"In here." Called a voice from the kitchen. I recognized it as the bubbly voice of the white, doughy, Pillsbury Doughboy. I stood up slowly and walked into the kitchen. Sure enough, standing on the counter looking at me was the Pillsbury Doughboy. I don't know why, but I had a sudden urge to poke his belly to see if he'd laugh like he does in the commercials.

I made my way over to him with an outstretched hand. He glared at my hand, but I didn't stop advancing. Soon I was close enough and I poked him in the stomach gently. But he didn't giggle. Oh, no, he did just the opposite. He reached an arm behind his back and pulled something from behind him.

A rusty spork.

I gasped and jumped back. A rusty spork was the deadliest weapon in the world! Why does the sweet, little Pillsbury Doughboy have one?! He stuck his other hand behind him and pulled out a cupcake. I watched in fear as he peeled the paper off the cupcake and raised it behind his head. He threw it with perfect precision, but luckily I ducked before it could hit me, and it instead hit the wall and burst into flames. Cupcake combustion. Not how I want to die. He glared at me and jumped from the counter, landing perfectly, still holding the spork. He ran towards me, growing three times bigger. I still looked down on him, but now his blue eyes were filled with hate and blood lust. I backed up until I ran into the kitchen wall.

Just as the Doughboy was about to stab me in the stomach with the spork, Scooby-Doo ran in and rammed him. Fang followed. He took the spork out of the Doughboy's hands and stabbed him, right in the heart. White flour poured out of the wound, but Fang kept stabbing.

The Pillsbury Doughboy's final words were, "I would've gotten away with world domination, if it weren't for you meddling kids!" Fang turned to me and then…

…I jumped up in bed. Wait, when did I get in my bed? I looked around the room, but this time I wasn't alone. Fang was sitting across the room in his computer chair, looking at me. I was in Fang's room, with Fang. And Fang. Fang was sitting beside me on the bed, on both sides. He was also standing at the foot of the bed. There were Fang's everywhere!

"Fang?" I asked quietly.

"Yes?" They all questioned in unison.

"HOLY CHEESENUGGETS!" I shouted.

"Max. Max, wake up." Fang said, shaking me. I opened my eyes cautiously. Thankfully, there was only one Fang. A very worried looking Fang. Surrounding him were a very worried looking flock, all looking at me.

"Max, are you okay?" Nudge asked. "Because, you just, like, freaked! You were muttering stuff, like, about the Pillsbury Doughboy and stuff. And then a rusty spork and then you just shouted out 'Holy cheese nuggets!' and Fang was like, 'OHMIGAWD!' and we were like, 'WTF?!' and--" Fang put his hand over her mouth, thankfully.

"What's wrong?" Stacey asked. She walked over and felt my head. "Max…" she started, but trailed off. She put both her hands on my cheeks, then put one back on my forehead.

"What?" I asked, agitated.

"Are you on drugs?" She asked, giving me a concerned look. I gaped at her. I felt like she was insulting my intelligence.

"What?!" I screeched.

"Are you on--" I cut her off.

"No, I'm not on freaking drugs! Are you?! Why the fnick would you think that?! Why the fnick would I do drugs?! Why the fnick am I saying why the fnick?"

"Because your in love with Fnick." Iggy stated. I rolled my eyes and sat up.

"Your zoning out and your sweating. Symptoms of doing drugs." I rolled my eyes again.

"I'm sweating because I just got attacked by the Pillsbury Doughboy with a spork and a combustible cupcake!" I said, then realized that probably didn't help my argument.

"I'm going to have a talk with your mother…" Stacey said and left again.

"Great, now Mom's going to think I'm a druggie hooked on Night Quills like Fang." I muttered. That, of course, earned me a glare from Fang.

I ignored him and went to the bathroom.

Those dreams scared the pee out of me!

So, yeah...both those dreams just kinda came to me. I needed to add something so...there we go.

You don't mess with the Pillsbury Doughboy.

He's like Chuck Norris, only whiter.

Iggy: -laughs- Niiice...

Me: Also, check out my newest story, Letters to the Flock.

Iggy: Okay...this is an oddly short A/N.

Me: I know.

R&R??!!