Johnny Velazquest loved Butterfingers. Like, seriously, yo, those things were the best. So crunchy. So chocolatey. Butterfingers were a man's treat. They weren't all soft and soggy like the stuff his white-haired brother from the same mother ate. Lincoln had limp wristed teeth that couldn't bite very hard or something (funny, considering they were so big and jagged), and therefore, he went for junk like gummy worms.
Johnny was a manly man though, a real alpha-Chad in a soyboy world. Next to Lincoln, he was basically Rambo. Then there was Mr. "Pink Apron" Loud and, ugh, worst of all, Dad. Dad was a chubby, middle-aged man who sat in a Lazy-Boy and watched fitter and more athletically gifted men pull off death-defying stunts in the ring. He stuffed his face with nachos and hot wings in front of Dynamite and unironically critized wrestlers' work. He blew that spot, he'd say around a mouthful of motzerella sticks. He's sloppy and lazy, Cody should fire him. Like, Dad, you couldn't even get through the ropes. You are literally less in shape than Andre the Giant and he was 520 pounds. Shut up.
Johnny, on the other hand, was the man. He wore a paper bag on his head. He had goggles. He had a utility belt. He sometimes wore half a Spider-Man mask. He could do literally everything. Some bullies one time said he was on the spectrum. Yeah, the awesome spectrum.
Johnny loved Butterfingers because they were awesome just like him, is what I'm saying. Every afternoon on the way home from school, he and Lincoln stopped at Flip's and loaded up on snacks with their allowance money. Lincoln wasted his hard earned bread on baby candy like Hersrhey bars while Johnny went right to the Butterfingers. Flip's was one of the only games in town that had the Super Ultra King Size Butterfingers. Johnny bought as many as he could and always kept one in a little holster on his belt for when he was hungry on the go. Strutting through the halls of Royal County Elementary in a paper bag and a partial face covering, a Butterfinger sticking out of his mouth like a fat cigar, he was the top of the heap, the King of Kool, the Sultan of Swell, and every one of his subjects bowed before him in awe and reverence. Hey, loser, the boys said. The girls shook their heads and rolled their eyes. Lincoln backed away slowly and stayed one step behind so as not to be overwhelmed and rendered invisible in Johnny's epic presence.
Johnny had many admierers, even if none of them wished to step forward. Take the Loud girls, for instance. Most of them wanted to be his girlfriend. Unfortunately, they were too young for him, except for Lynn, and he had to be honest here: He wasn't into her one bit. With her short hair and checkerboard mouth, she wasn't a very attractive girl. Hey, she was an awesome person and Johnny loved being her friend, but when he looked at her, his heartbeat didn't speed up the way he imagned it should. It didn't do that for any girl, come to think of it, except for Ms. DeMartino. She was a real fox. Una papa gigante. That was Spanish for a real fox. She had soft brown skin, chocolate brown eyes, shimmering brown hair - umf, his brown lil princess. C'mon, mama, we're both POC, let's DOP in the AOG.
Johnny had no idea what that meant but it sounded good.
Johnny liked her a lot, but he liked Butterfingers more. Butterfingers were a food of the gods and he made sure to have a huge stash at any given time. He kept it in a box under his bed, hidden beneath a bunch of old comic books. Lincoln wasn't quite the sissy Johnny made him out to be, and he would eat one of Johnny's Butterfingers if he found it lying around. Dad had a huge sweet tooth, and when he was out of cupcakes and brownies, he'd break into Lincoln and Johnny's room and suck up any morsel of chocolate he could find, even if it was in the trash can. The last time Johnny counted, there were seventeen Butterfingers in that box, forming a delcious harem. Every so often, he would take the box out and stare into its depths, his tongue licking his chops. Sometimes, he took one out and cuddled it as he fell asleep.
Johnny sure did love his Butterfingers...which is why he lost it on the morning of July 18 when he pulled the box out only to find it empty. His heart, filled with joy just a moment before, sank into the pit of his stomach and his eyes widened in horror. W-What? WHERE ARE THEY? He picked the box up and dumped it, like maybe they were hiding and needed to be jolted loose, but nothing dropped out. He tossed the box aside and crawled under the bed, thinking they may have fallen out somehow, but still, nothing. Bro, what the bleep?
Johnny knelt there, hands in his lap, and thought. Okay, okay, the last time he remembered seeig them, they were right here. What could have happened? Did Lincoln take them?
Johnny didn't think so. If Lincoln was involved, he wouldn't have taken all of them. He would have grabbed one, maybe two, but not seventeen.
Johnny's brow lowered. Dad.
Johny got to his feet and went downstairs, where Dad sat in his armchair and ate raw cookie dough from a tube. On TV, Vince McMahon sported a black eye and looked soberly into the camera. "I didn't bleep Bret, Bret bleeped Bret."
Johnny stood over his father with his hands on his hips and asked where his Butterfingers were. Dad's bafflement was genuine - the man couldn't lie worth a bleep so Johnny believed him. Hmmm...where were they, then?
Johnny was just going back upstairs when his phone buzzed with a text.
Johnny, kom 2 my hows I have ur buturfeengers. Lola
Johnny's brow furrowed. So Lola was the dastardly scoundral who stole his Butterfingers.
Johnny would not stand for this. In his room, he dressed in a pair of black pants and a black shirt, and pulled his utility belt on. He shrugged into his olive coat'o'many pockets, slipped his satchel over one shoulder (bullies called it a man purse, and in return, he called them an ambulance), and donned his Spider-Man half mask, covering one side of his face because only sissies cover their whole face. He wanted Lola to know exactly who he was, to look him dead in the eye and realize that she had transgressed too far when she took his candy.
Johnny pulled his shoes on, went downstairs, and crossed the street, making no attempt to hide himself. He wanted her to know he was coming and to quake in mortal terror. He climbed the steps, knocked on the door, and waited. A moment later, Lori answered.
"Johnny? Literally what do you want?"
Johnny cleared his throat. "I'm here to get my Butterfingers back from Lola."
Johnny tensed himself, ready for a fight; all Louds were potential enemies since families stick together. Messing with Lola could incur the wrath of them all.
Johnny was surprised, then, when Lori rolled her eyes. "The little creep's in the back."
Johnny tipped his paper bag in thanks and went around to the backyard. Rows and rows of mixed-matched chairs faced a white garden arch through which twsted strands of ivy. A piece of cardboard lay in the grass before it, as if waiting for someone to come along and breakdance upon it. Johnny rolled his eyes because his father would totally try. A gallery of silent stuffed animals - bears, zebras, unicorns, rag dolls, and action figures - kept inferna watch over the arch, their eyes dark and lifeless and their expressions fixed.
Johnny was reminded of moves he'd seen where the dead came back to life, and a shiver went down his spine.
"Joooooohnnnnnyyyyy!"
Johnny's blood ran cold and he spun on his heels, his hands going up in an open-palmed karate gesture. Lola, in a flowing white dress, came down the porch steps, a long lace trane trailing over the grass. "Hey~" She batted her eyelashes.
Johnny blinked. "Lola, what's going on here?"
"Johnny, we're getting married, silly."
Johnny's confusion deepened. They were? "What do you mean we're getting married?"
Johnny listened as Lola, now standing before him and gazing up at him with lovestruck eyes. "I've decided that my love for you cannot wait until I'm older, so we're going to be married immediately, then we're going to live in that house and raise a family." She pointed to a plastic play house near the fence, all pink and grimy.
Johnny's head spun. "Look, Lola, I'm not marrying you, just give me back my Butterfingers and I won't be forced to destroy you."
"Johnny," Lola hissed, eyes burning, "you're going to marry me and that is final."
Johnny sighed. It looked like he was gonna have to open a can of -
Johnny was on his knees with his arm wrenched behind his back before he even knew Lola was on top of him. She pulled his arm up, between his shoulder blades, and hot pain shot into his shoulder. Lola's rank breath broke across the side of his throat, and Johnny cried out in fear because he was certain that she was going to rip it out with her teeth. "You're going to marry me," she said through her teeth, "and then you're going to make me a mommy, then you are going to spend the next 70 years of your life doing what I say, when I say it, do you understand me, Johnny?"
Johnny thrashed and tried to break her hold, but the little girl was too strong. He was manly and buff and muscular and all that other stuff, how could Lola defeat him? "Fine," he blurted, "just please stop hurting me."
Johnny's face hit the ground when Lola shoved him forward. She got to her feet and stood over him with a gloating, gap-toothed smile. "I'm glad we see eye to eye, hubby, now get inside and get dressed. I am not marrying a man in a bomber jacket and half a mask."
Johnny had no choice but to follow her orders. Five minutes later, he stood in the middle of Leni and Lori's room in a perfect T-pose, dressed in only his boxer shorts and blushing furiously. Leni stood before him and stroked her chin, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I'm, like, really nervous because weddings are totes a big deal. I hope Lucy's suit looks nice."
Johnny stiffened when Lucy came in. "Here," she said, "I took this off a cadaver in Young Mort -" her words cut off when she saw half naked Johnny. A bomb blast of crimson splashed across her face and she started to open and close her mouth like a fish. Leni took the suit away and had Johnny dress in it, then she hemmed it. It was black and sleek and fit him perfectly.
Johnny didn't like it.
Johnny followed Leni into the kitchen where all of the other Loud girls were gathered. Luan, Luna, and Lisa baked a cake, while Lana tugged uncomfortably at the hem of her white skirt. She was the flower girl and didn't look like she wanted to be such any more than Johnny wanted to be the groom. "This dress sucks, can I take it off?"
Johnny sighed. "No," Leni said, "it looks totes cute."
Johnny stood there, trying to think of a way out, but it was too late. Leni pushed him toward the door like a POW. He took a deep breath, ashamedly lowered his eyes, and marched down the aisle. Luan stood on the cardboard with a leather bound book in her hands. "I'm an ordained minister in Clowntology," she said, "that means I can marry people."
Johnny took a deep breath. Great. Just what he wanted.
Johnny didn't have to wait long for his blushing bride to appear. Luna struck in Here Comes the Bride on her guitar and Johnny turned his head. Lola came out the back door, face covered in a veil and holding a bouquet of flowers. Lana went ahead of her, tossing flower petals in the aisle and looking like she hated life, and the other sisters sat in the gallery, all creepy smiles. Didn't these bozos realize that child marriage is illegal? And immoral?
Johnny looked away when Lola stopped in front of him. "Dearly beloved," Luan intoned, "we are gathered here today to join these two people in holy comedy. Lola Loud and Johnny...uh's your last name again?"
Johnny told her. "Right," she said, "Lola, do you take this -"
Johnny was not surprised by how quickly Lola replied. "Yes!"
"Johnny," Luan said, "do you take this little girl to be your clownful wedding wife, to pie and to prank, until death (likely caused by slipping on a banana peel) do you part?"
Johnny looked at Lola, Do it, she mouthed, or else.
"Johnny?"
Johnny nodded. "Yes," he whispered.
"Johnny, do you have -?"
Johnny was not surprised when Lola produced a ring, but he was surprised by its, uh, singular nature. A blue and pink swirl Ring Pop. He sighed and rolled his eyes. This was a bleeping clown show. Literally.
"Johnny...take this ring as a token of my love and devotion...to being your boss forever," Lola said.
Johnny took the ring even though he didn't want to. Lola held out her hand, fingers splayed, and Johnny slipped the ring on. "I now pronounce you clown and wife, you may kiss the joker."
Johnny grimaced at the thought of kissing Lola Loud. She turned her head and presented her cheek. He swallowed thickly, leaned in, and pecked it.
"Johnny, I'm so happy," she said. She took his head and led him to the playhouse while everyone clapped and cheered. Inside, they sat across from one another at a plastic table, Johnny hunched over because there was no head room. "Now what?" she asked.
Johnny shrugged. "We do this until we die."
Johnny was married five minutes that day, then Lola changed her mind. I'm just not ready for the committment, sorry.
Johnny was fine with that...but he didn't even get his Butterfingers back. Bleep it.
