Johnny loved company. He also loved being company. It didn't matter if you came over to his house to chill, or if you invited him over to your place, he was a social creature and enjoyed "visiting" as his old black grandmother called it. Growing up, Johnny was friendless and lame. No one ever cared enough about him to drop by in the middle of the afternoon (Hi, can Johnny come out?). The only person he had to chill with was his brother, which, no offense to Linc, but a boy needs friends who aren't family members. Lincoln was okay, but who wants to be stuck up their brother's butt 24/7? No one. At least no one that Johnny knew. He wasn't quite at the age where his family's very existence shamed and humiliated him (that would come at 15 or 16), but it wasn't cool to only hang out with your family. You gotta have friends, real friends.

For a long time, Johnny didn't have that, partly because people were bigots (even after all the marching, Civil Rights acts, and blood, sweat, and tears, they still didn't accept those who wore paper bags as hats) and partly because he and Lincoln used to swindle them in the park. It's kind of hard to like someone when they fleece you out of your lunch money, Johnny got that. It was no big deal.

Anyway, things eventually got better for him (and Lincoln). Now they had a network of pals, chums, and acquaintances that included girls, geeks, cool kids, and hicks. They were closer to some of them than they were to others, but when you got right down to it, they weren't best friends with any of them. A best friend, if you asked Johnny, is someone you could rely on to bail you out of jail. Like…if you wind up in the slammer, there's no doubt or hesitation, you call your bestie because you know they'll come through. Lincoln and Johnny weren't that close to anybody, though maybe Sid, Stella, or Mr. Loud would.

Okay, maybe that was a bad analogy. Someone can be nice and give you bail without being your best friend. What Johnny meant was: With best friends, your friendship is deep and loving and all that other junk. He couldn't say he had a best friend. The closest he came was Lincoln.

And the Loud girls.

Not individually, mind you, but as a collective. The Loud Girls as a group. See? Capital L, capital G. For the most part, that was because they all had the hots for him. Johnny had long been aware of this and wasn't entirely okay with it, but he used it to his advantage where he could. There's no greater friend than someone who's hopelessly attracted to you, right? You can do no wrong with them, unless you're a total jerk. Johnny, like anyone else, could get a swollen head and be sort of a buttface, but it was literally impossible for him to be that big a peen. Therefore, he was golden with the Loud girls.

Or so he thought.

Then he found out otherwise.

It was a normal Sunday afternoon in the Loud house. Johnny and his family had been staying with the Louds for several months after their house had been destroyed by a freak tornado. Mom and Dad were currently in talks with a contracting company to build a new house utilizing the blueprints of the old one, but things were progressing at a snail's pace. It was almost like some big guy upstairs wanted them to live with the Louds. That was cool and all, but as much as Johnny loved to visit, he was his own man and needed his own space. Lately he felt like he existed only as an extension of the Loud sisters, like they were in the same or something. All of his adventures lately included them, all the storylines of his life included them. Like jeez, can I please have my stuff already?

Also, well…the bigger problem was this: He didn't like the noise or how domineering they were. They didn't walk all over him or anything but at the same time, we're talking ten girls. It's like a country, you know? The majority rules. The culture, customs, and very fabric of the nation reflect the taste and will of the majority. If you're in a minority, oh well, buckle up and enjoy being a passenger in your own homeland. Well…homeland wasn't the right term. Johnny and his family were refugees. Their homeland was a war torn hellhole, so they had to move to a different country until things improved. They did their best to adapt to the culture of their host state, but that wasn't easy to do when all you wanted to do was get home as quickly as possible. Johnny totally understood how those people in Ukraine felt.

Speaking of Ukraine, a lot of people compare the refugees from Africa and the Middle East to those from Ukraine. "Oh, you didn't want refugees when they were brown people, but now that they're white, you're all for it." Alright, well, let's be real: Most of the brown people aren't likely to go home when (and if) their countries stabilize. Why? Because their countries suck in the first place. No hate, that's just the truth. Ukraine isn't the best but it's a semi advanced second world nation, not a bunch of straw huts governed by warlords. It's the difference between a chronic wino and someone who has temporarily fallen on hard times. The moment the Russians pull out and everything's all good, the Ukrainians will probably go back.

At least that's how Johnny saw it. A lot of people want to make everything about race, or religion, or politics, but even a kid like him could see that the world and human nature were more complex than that.

Anyway, that's not really important right now.

Back to Sunday.

Johnny woke up around eight, jumped off his bunk, and stretched so hard his back popped. A grimace flashed across his face and he turned his head slightly to the side, teeth bared, as if to say That's not the wave. Last night, the Loud girls all invited themselves into his and Lincoln's closet-room and kept them awake until 3am with giggling and girl talk. Johnny loved having company and being company, but dang, can I go to bed now? Throwing his jacket on over his naked torso, he pulled his paper bag on and shambled out into the hallway. At first, the house was silent and seemingly deserted…then a door slammed open and Lana and Lola rolled on in a Big Ball of Chaos, dust, fists, stars, and Batman 66 POW bubbles flying around. Johnny uttered a startled, high pitched cry and jumped back before he could be sucked in.

In an instant, the other Loud girls appeared from their various hidey-holes and pulled them apart. Lana kicked and spat, and Lola punched at the air, trying her best to thrash out of Lori's grasp and get to her twin for round two. Lori and Leni looked at each other. "Sister fight protocol," they said in unison.

Luan grabbed Johnny and started guiding him back to his room. "Hey, wait, I gotta pee!" he cried.

"Sorry, but you need to get out of here," Luan said. "This is serious."

"So's my full bladder."

"Not as serious as this."

Johnny tried to resist, but Luna came over, twisted his arm behind his back, and helped Luan drag him back to his room. He did the only thing he could do and offered passive resistance by going completely limp. They kicked open the door and tossed him in; Lincoln sat groggily up and looked at them through sleep narrowed eyes. "Whas goin' on?" he slurred.

"Stay in here until we tell you it's okay to come out."

With that, they shut the door. Johnny let out a sigh and kicked the desk in anger. He forgot that he wasn't wearing any shoes when a bolt of red agony shot up his leg. He grabbed his wounded foot and jumped around on one leg like a mixed race pogo stick. "What's going on?" Lincoln asked again, sounding more awake this time.

"Lola and Lana got into a huge fight and we're on lockdown because we're not girls or something."

Lincoln furrowed his brow. "That sounds dumb."

"Yeah, it is dumb," Johnny said, "but it is what it is."

Instead of accepting his lot, Lincoln made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat and rolled his eyes. He threw the blanket off, got up, and went to the door. He opened it and went out into the hall, only to be shoved back a second later. Someone slammed the door from without, and Lincoln pounded it with his fists. "Let us out of here!" he yelled. "This is ridiculous!"

"It's part of sister fight protocol," Luan's muffled voice replied.

"I don't care what it is," Luan said. "This is how we do things around here, Lincoln. You guys just need to deal with it."

The firmness in her voice surprised Johnny. Luan Loud was the last person on earth he expected to be stern and serious. He had known her for what seemed like his whole life (though it couldn't have been more than a few years) and she was almost never serious. If you wanted her to take something seriously, it had to be, like, a death in the family or something.

"You're not coming out, Lincoln," she said, "so you might as well stop."

Lincoln gave the door a super punch and went back to the bed, sitting heavily on the edge. "This is bull crap," he said.

"Yep," Johnny said, "it won't last long, though."

Ha, was he wrong. He and Lincoln were trapped in that room for hours. They paced, they sighed, they bickered like an old married couple. Johnny peed out the window when he couldn't hold it any longer, and Mr. Grouse next door caught him. "Put that thing away, kid," the old man called. Johnny slammed the window so quickly that he almost smashed his…uh…self in it. Every time he or Lincoln tried to leave, Luan would chase them back in. After three hours, Lincoln and Johnny's stomachs were growling. After five, they were faint with hunger.

Finally, at long last, Lori and Leni came in…to take their blankets away. :We need these," Lori said. "Sorry."

"Why?" Johnny demanded.

"To partition Lana and Lola's room. It's part of the sister fight -"

"That's BS," Lincoln said.

"That's just how it is here," Lori said smugly.

Now, Johnny couldn't say that he knew the Loud girls 100 percent. No one knows anyone 100 percent, or else people wouldn't trip every time a serial killer got arrested two doors down ("he was such a nice guy…"), but there was something off about them today. He said as much, and Lori sighed. "This is extremely stressful for us, okay? Every time this happens, it winds up getting bigger and uglier over time."

"A simple fight?" Lincoln asked.

"There is no simple fight when you live in a house full of people," Lori countered. "Remember how WWI started?"

Lincoln rolled his eyes. "Can't say I was there."

"Yeah, well, everyone got dragged into it because of alliances, old grievances, and bitterness. Same thing can happen here. And probably will."

Johnny waved her off. That wasn't going to happen. He'd seen the Louds argue and fight before. It was never that big a deal.

Wrong for the second time that day.

At dinner, the air was thick with tension and everyone was literally on the edge of their seats. Lola glared across the table at Lana and Lana glared back. "Stop looking at me," Lola ordered.

"You stop looking at me," Lana retorted.

"Leni, who was looking at who first?" Lola asked.

Leni started to speak but Lori shot her a dirty look. In the geopolitical landscape of the Loud house, Leni and Lola were allies because they both enjoyed fashion and make-up. "Yeah, Lynn," Lana said, "who?"

The two tomboys - one a sports fanatic and the other a grease monkey - were also allies. Lynn twirled her fork in her spaghetti, "Eat your food," she said.

"Ha," Lola said, "your butt buddy's not helping you."

Lynn glared at Lola. "I'm not her butt buddy."

"Yes you are," Lola said, "right, Leni?"

Before Lori could stop her, Leni blurted, "Yep, she sure is."

Realizing what she'd done, Leni clamped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. "Screw you, Leni," Lynn said.

"Hey, man, chill, Leni didn't mean it," Luna jumped in.

"Obviously she did," Luan stated matter of factly.

Lori hung her head and massaged her temples with her thumb and forefinger. "Here we go," she said.

All of the Loud girls started talking over one another, hurling accusations, insults, and curses that made Johnny blush. Growing up, Dad bumped old school rap by Biggie, Pac, and Snoop Dogg, so Johnny was used to foul language, but the Loud girls took it to another level. Johnny had never in his life heard such an inventive use of language. It was actually pretty impressive. Lori got to her feet and held her hands up. "Everyone knock it off. This is between Lana and Lola. Let them fight it out."

Leni held up her hand and made the talk talk talk gesture. Everyone jumped in and attacked Lori for trying to help, calling her bossy and whatnot. Her face flushed with anger but she only walked away. Lincoln and Johnny looked at each other. "Looks like we should skedaddle," Johnny said.

"I'm right there with you, bro," Lincoln said.

They got up and scurried away.

But like the wicked in the Book of Revelation, they could not hide. Lana, Lynn, Luan, and Lisa came into their room and decided to stay there to be away from their roommates, with whom they were all feuding. Yes, even Lisa and Lily were fighting. Johnny had no idea what they could possibly be mad at each other over and never asked. He could only deal with so much at once.

Hopefully this would be over soon.

Kek, wrong yet again. The fighting lasted for two days. Each group wanted Johnny and Lincoln to side with them, and kept pestering and bullying them. Johnny thought both were dumb, but Lola's group was just a little pushier. Lincoln thought it was Lana's group.

This, of course, led to them arguing.

The entire house was in chaos and Johnny couldn't eat, sleep, or use the bathroom when he wanted to. It was pure torment and he was starting to go crazy. At the end of day two, they were all gathered in the living room bickering and throwing shade at each other, the adults somewhere hiding like the cowards they were. Finally, Johnny had enough and jumped up like a Baptist preacher at a tent revival. "Thjis is getting stupid," he said. "I thought you guys were better than this. Apparently, I was wrong. You're all acting like a bunch of diaper babies and I'm so over it. You're all lame and wack and so immature it's not funny. You guys need to grow the eff up and stop being retarded."

For a second, the Loud girls gaped at him, and he thought his message had hit home.

It hadn't.

Instead of coming to their senses and apologizing to each other, the Loud girls lunged at him, finally united in their rage at Johnny's cutting insults. Their shadow fell over him and Johnny had a split second to gulp before they hit him like a tsunami. The breath left Johnny's lungs in a iush and the impact of ten angry girls knocked him across the room. The back of his head connected with the wall and he went down in a dazed heap. Before he could recover, they were on top of him, battering him with a storm of kicks and punches, Lori's foot crashed into his stomach and his eyes bugged from their sockets; Lynn dropped an elbow on his eye, and pain exploded in the center of his skull. He rolled onto his stomach and clawed at the floor in a desperate attempt to get away, his heart pounding like the feet of a frightened rabbit; Luan brought her foot down on his spine, and Lola punched him in the back of the head. Leni ripped his paper bag off, hunched her shoulders, and struggled to tear it about with a Chris-Chan like grunt. Terror gripped Johnny and he began to sob.

The Loud girls did not let up. They beat, kicked, stomped, and abused him. His ribs hurt, his kidneys hurt, everything hurt and it was all owing to people hje thought were his friends.

Finally, Lincoln shoved them all away. "Stop! You're killing him!"

That snapped them out of it. They looked at Johnny, dazed and bleeding on the floor, and realized what they had done. Lori clamped her hand over her mouth and Lola threw herself to her knees. "Oh, Johny, I'm so sorry!"

Johnny moaned.

And then passed out.


For a long time - maybe even an eternity - Johnny floated on warm, dark tides like a leaf in the sea. Sights and sounds penetrated the blackness around him, and he squirmed away from them like a timid fish, not knowing why he should be afraid of them, only that he should. He thrashed and muttered in his sleep, unaware that salty tears flowed openly down his cheeks. At some point, an incessant beeping noise materialized from the murky ether, and no matter how deep he swam, he couldn't get away from it. Finally, at long last, his eyelids began to flutter open, and he was powerless to escape the inexorable gravitational pull of reality. Harsh white light burned away the fog in his aching head, and he opened his eyes.

His left one was blurry, like a pair of smudged sunglasses. The other was clear.

The first thing Johnny became aware of was the sickly ache in his head. The second was the many pains wracking his body. "Don't move," someone said. He looked up to see his mother, father, and Lincoln standing around him.

"What happened?" he asked.

"The Loud girls beat you up," Lincoln said.

"Word?" Johnny asked.

"Double word," Lincoln said.

"Where are they?"

"At the police station. The doctor took one look at you and called CPS. They're being brought up on charges."

Charges? Over a little fight? Look, he wasn't happy that they ganged up on him either, but charges and the potential for jailtime? That was a little much, don't you think?

At least that's what he said until the doctor read him a litany of his injuries. Severe concussion, cracked ribs, broken fingers, damaged eye (that was milky, shot through with red veins, and bulged slightly), and a host of other things. His hair had gone completely white like Lincoln's and there was blood in his stool and urine. Worse, and less noticeable at first, was the anxiety. He flinched any time someone got near him, and his heart slammed because the sense of danger was all around him. That night, he could barely sleep because on some animal level, he was certain that someone was going to come into his room and try to hurt him.

Around 3am, he was drifting off when a voice spoke to his right. Go to sleep, bag boy, they're not coming for you.

Johnny looked around, heart racing. "Who said that?"

We'll stab them in the guts if they come, another voice said. The first sounded condescending, the second crazy and childish.

"Who are you?" Johnny asked.

Isn't it clear? The first voice asked. We're your guardian angels. We're here to help you. You sure need it. You were autistic before, but now with the eye and the hair, you're a real mess. Perhaps you should step into traffic and end.

Traffic, the second voice panted, traffic is fun, I like watching traffic.

Johnny hugged himself. "I'm going insane," he said.

You were always insane, the first voice said. That hit to the head just jogged it loose. It would have happened sooner or later.

Johnny squeezed his eyes closed and started to cry.

The next few days were hard on him. The voices battered him at random times. The first one made snide remarks about everyone, Johnny included, and the second one would make annoying sounds just to get under Johnny's skin. The police came by to talk to him in the morning and he was adamant that he didn't want to press charges. Mr. and Mrs. Loud visited him afterwards and told him that the girls were wracked with remorse and that they were all grounded for the next six weeks at least. They were confined to their rooms with no TV, no cellphones, nothing but the walls and each other. Johnny figured that was good enough punishment for attempted murder. His physical wounds healed fairly quickly, but getting out of bed pulled at his broken ribs and made him feel like he was going to split open. He had terrible nightmares about being swamped and killed by monsters with the faces of the Loud girls, and his kidneys were messed up, so peeing hurt. He was constipated because of the medication, and when he tried to poop, he strained too hard and gave himself a hemorrhoid. His butt hurt so bad that he could barely stand it, and when he did manage to move his bowels, the toilet paper came back soaked in bright red blood.

Lincoln came by every day and hung out with him like a real bro. "I wanna get them back," he said one day.

"Nah," Johnny said, "I'm not down with revenge."

"I am," Lincoln said, "I mean, look what they did to you. They almost beat you to death and what punishment did they get? A grounding? They're being let off way too easily in my opinion and that's b.s. I'm gonna whack Lynn in her kidneys and see how she likes it. An eye for an eye, right?"

"No," Johnny said. "I don't believe in that. I'll talk to them when I get back. Just…don't do anything, okay?"

Lincoln sighed.

"Okay?"

"Fine," Lincoln said.

When he was gone, the condescending voice scoffed. He couldn't do anything anyway. Look how weak and scrawny he is. He weighs ten pounds soaking wet. The Loud girls would eat him alive.

Liver and onions on the menu, the second voice said, then began to chant. Liv-er and onions! Liv-er and onions.

Johnny was scared that if anybody found out about the voices, he'd wind up in a loony bin, so he didn't mention them. He knew with sinking dread that he had a serious mental health problem but he couldn't bring himself to take the risk of winding up in a state run mental asylum. Four days after being admitted to the hospital, the Loud girls came to see him. They were all weepy and apologetic, but seeing them trigger some deep, primal fight or flight response in Johnny. His palms got sweaty, his heart raced, and he felt like he was suffocating. When they tried to hug him, he freaked the frick out and started to scream. The nurse rushed them away and the look of pain and agony of their faces was enough to tell him how truly sorry they really were.

Mr. Mental Illness 2022, the condescending voice said.

"Shut up," Johnny grumbled.

You should have hit them with your sonic screech, the crazy voice said.

"Leave me alone," Johnny said and blotted tears from his eyes. "You guys are jerks."

It's going to be fun seeing you get used to living under the same roof as them again, the condescending voice said.

Johnny's heart sank.

He knew.

He knew all too well.

It was going to be hard and he was not looking forward to it.

But that, he decided, was a worry for another day.