A/N: SORRY.

SORRY SORRY SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T UPDATED. I've just been at a kind of Writer's Block point in the story [it happens to the best of us] so I haven't been writing, but the only way to cure Writer's Block is to show it who's boss and write some more!

By the way, I meant to apologize to the people who voted on my poll and said that Mitch shouldn't go with Buttercup, but I changed my mind on how I wanted the story to go so I can make it a lil' more interesante [that's Spanish for interesting] for you.

Ladies & gentlemen, prepare for some twists and turns. :)

Disclaimer: I still don't own them. I swear.

BUTCHs POV

When I woke up from the nap I'd taken in the middle of the bookstore, I couldn't help but smile. In my dream, I'd been playing Black Ops with someone sitting next to me. I'd just finished the game and was bragging when I heard someone next to me yell, "Whatever. I finished it three hours ago!" and start to laugh. I'd turned to the side to see Buttercup holding two ice cream cones in her hands, one outstretched to me. I reached out to take in when she shoved it in my face, laughing and causing me to chase after her.

From there, though, it got a little weird. Something about E.T., Buttercup, and I riding over the river and through Neverland on some sort of anteater-shaped pickles...

Wait. Buttercup...laughing...

Pickles?

No! It was all flooding back to me now. Mitch had asked Buttercup to Prom when my brothers, Blossom and Bubbles were in the bookstore! He'd gotten down on one knee and acted like it was a proposal, the nerve of that piece of-

Hold on, I thought, taking a deep breath in so that I wouldn't go on a rampage like I probably had in the bookstore and wondering how much damage I caused. Before I go nuts again, let me figure out where I am now.

I slowly opened my eyes and came to my senses. Underneath me, I felt a cool tile floor, all white with specks of gray covering the perimeter of the room. The space was dimly lit so that I could barely see, and there were small speakers in every corner of the room. A few yards away from me, looking at me through a glass window that made up an entire wall, were my brothers watching me like I was an animal in a zoo.

The training room.

"What the h... are we doing in here?" I yelled to them, earning myself confused looks from both of them. Brick held up a finger and then pressed a small button on the switchboard that sat in front of them.

"Can you repeat that, Butch?" I heard his voice boom over the small intercom on the ceiling.

"I said, what are we doing in here?" I repeated, standing up slowly.

"We needed somewhere to keep you until you were stable. We had to be sure you wouldn't be a furious lunatic before we let you walk amongst regular people again," he told me, putting his chin in his hands and leaning his elbows on the switchboard. "And with the way you look right now, I'd say we need to keep you in there for at least a couple more hours. You were lashing around everywhere in your sleep."

"Yeah," Boomer piped in, "Take a look for yourself."

In front of the window a long mirror slid down, covering my brothers and giving me a good look of the mess I was. I started at the bottom, looking myself up and down. No shoes, jeans ripped up with little scratches on my legs where somebody had probably had to hold me down and could barely do it. My dark green shirt had been torn into shreds across the bottom, and I had a large purple bruise on my cheek that stood out against my pale skin. And, just as an ultra-fun bonus, I had a ridiculously bad headache. Woot.

"Well what do you expect me to do in here for the next three hours?" I growled, my eyes grazing the walls for some kind of other hidden exit and knowing there wouldn't be one.

"Take a nap. Or maybe color," Brick responded smugly, an expressionless look spreading across his face. "It doesn't really matter to me. Whatever you do, it won't affect where me and Boomer are going."

"Well-wait where do you think you're going? You're not leaving me in here all day!" There was no way in Heaven or H... that I was getting left at home while they went somewhere without me, especially since I was locked in the dumb training room.

"To the mall with the girls to pick up tuxes for Prom. Don't think that this little incident was going to affect the plan," Brick answered, rising up from his chair to leave, Boomer not far behind him. I glared at them through the glass while they waved goodbye to me.

"Wait!" I called after them, thinking of an excuse to get me out of the training room a split second before they left. "Aren't you gonna need my measurements for the tux, idiots?"

"Nope," Boomer nodded his head, looking a Brick for further explanation.

"We measured you while you were asleep since we knew you would say something like that. Adios, Butchie Boy," Brick said, flipping off the lights in the control room and leaving me in complete darkness with my thoughts and a coloring book in the corner.

BRICKs POV

Boomer, the girls and I all piled into my Boomer and I in the front and Blossom and Bubbles. On any other day, Blossom and I would've shared driver's seat and shotgun and our blue-eyed siblings would've taken the backseat, but today, because we were going Prom shopping, the girls had insisted they sit in the back together. The backseat of my car was overflowing with magazine articles written on what type of dress for what body shape, how to choose between a strapless dress and a spaghetti strap dress, and other stories of the kind. They were flipping through the catalogues the stores had sent to their house, constantly commenting on which dress would look good on who and which were uglier than Him without his makeup on. And as much as I...loved...listening to them talk about the 127 different shades of pink and blue they could choose from, my driving was starting to get a little shaky.

We were off to get ourselves tuxedos and the girls their dresses, while Butch had stayed at home locked in the Training Room. After he had, ahem, "passed out", we'd quickly dragged him back to the children's section ("Oh, my friend? No, he's fine, we just read him a story and he fell asleep. You know how kids are.") where we had hidden him until we knew that Mitch and Buttercup had left the bookstore. After that, the girls had helped us to carry him home and into the training room, where he had stayed asleep for the past day. Buttercup, on the other hand, was enjoying a day in her room, talking to her new best friend, Mitch, on the phone. She had given Bubbles and Blossom permission to pick out her dress, as long as there were no frills, lace, poofy skirts, ruffles, bows, sparkles, stripes, animal prints, flowers, fur, ribbons, feathers, or buttons. Nor could the dress be red, orange, yellow, blue, purple, pink, white, or any of the various shades of magenta.

Boomer noticed that I was getting aggravated with the overwhelming smell of Prom in the air and let out a small laugh. "Welcome to Prom Season, buddy," he chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back in the seat.

"I'm gonna have to say, I think my favorite part of Prom season is probably the end," I mumbled, making a right turn into the Townsville Mall parking lot.

"Me too," Bubbles smiled. We all turned to her with confused looks. "I mean, I love Prom, but at least after this Buttercup and Butch will be happy."

The car got suddenly quiet as I brought the car to a halt and although none of us wanted to admit it, we all knew what was on everybody else's mind. What if this plan didn't work? We all knew Buttercup was great at holding grudges, and now that Mitch was in the picture, anything could happen.

I broke the silence, clicking my car door open. "Well, let's get a move on I guess. Times a-wastin'."

BLOSSOMs POV

Bubbles and I waltzed out of Macy's as the proud owners of two new dresses. We were off to meet the boys in the Food Court after two and a half hours of blissful dress modeling. I had forgotten how fun it was to just be with Bubbles and hang out.

We were nearing the elevator when the doors slid open and a certain curly brown-haired heiress stepped out, dressed from head to toe in designer clothes. Not feeling like dealing with her of all people, I quickly grabbed onto Bubbles shoulder, turning her around and walking her the other way.

But Princess would come looking for trouble. "You Powderpuff Girls are so funny, trying to avoid me."

I rolled my eyes before turning around to face Princess, putting on a smile. "Why would you ever think we were trying to avoid you Princess?"

"Cute. Keep it up, girls, and maybe you'll get on my good side," she smiled mischievously, twirling her hair between her fingers.

"Do you even have a good side, Princess? I haven't seen it yet," I replied, crossing my arms. I was not in the mood for Princess' bratty behavior, especially not when I had been having such a great day beforehand.

"You might want to respect me a little more, Blossom," she warned, a dark tone to her voice. "You know Prom is just around the corner, and you never know what could happen."

I didn't like where this was going. Princess had pulled some dirty tricks before, but those weren't as important considering the fact that we were dealing with criminals committing outlandish crimes anyways on a daily basis. Now, not only were we a little bit...rusty, but she was also planning to mess with one of the biggest nights of our lives.

"What are you talking about, Princess?" I questioned her, knitting my brows.

"I'm just saying that we're going to have an amazing time at Prom this year," she said, a smirk spreading across her face. "Bye Blossom. Bye Bubbles. Have fun shopping."

Princess sauntered away, never looking back to see the looks on me and Bubbles faces. We were simply left to wonder three things:

#1. What knd of trick did Princess have up her sleeve?

#2. What would we do if she really did pull a stunt at Prom? And, most importantly,

#3. How in the world were we going to force Buttercup into this dress...?

(Answer: We're not.)

A/N: Again, sorry for the wait! I love you all, Happy New Year, and nice comments really do motivate me! Thanks!