Semi-Important A/N: Okay, people...this is one of the more dark and bizarre comedies I've written, and I'd just like to warn all of you that if you take your ship preference (or lack thereof) too seriously to be able to laugh at more, um, unorthodox pairings, this story might not be for you, heh. But don't hate the satirist, man! I'm just here to lighten things up. Sort of.
Anyway, I've been toying with the general idea of this fic for some time now, but I didn't get the motivation to write it until a few days ago, when I had a chance encounter with fellow writer White Kitty. So, thanks to her. Give her some props, people! w00t!
WHAT'S UP WITH THE RATING?: Simple. It's not bold enough to be R, and not cuddly enough to be PG. Wee.
Our Good Friend MR. DISCLAIMER: FF writers might as well own the damn show now, but alas, we do not. THE SORROW! *sob*
*******
Joshua was reading quietly in his personal library when he heard an inexplicable knock at the door.
"Now who in the world could that be?" he asked himself in a cultured, slightly British accent. It wasn't at all like Max or Alec to knock. Hmm...he would have to investigate. He carefully set down the book, uncrossed his legs, and removed the pipe from his mouth. He thought to take off his monocle, but decided against it. If it was a random visitor, they might think better of him if he was wearing the monocle. Smart people from Oxford wear monocles, so he'd thusly look smart and Oxfordian. Yay!
He locked the door to his library and covered it with one of his paintings, then made his way to the front door. Cautiously, he peered through the peephole. His heard leapt. It was Max after all! Max with blond hair, no less, but Max all the same! Oh joy! Oh rapturous joy! Frantically, he tried to figure out what do with his hands. After a few minutes of fumbling, Max called out to let him know that she was coming in, and worked her key into the door. In the last second before she set eyes on him, he managed to rip off the monocle and drop it into his pocket.
"Uh...uh...hullo, Max," he greeted her, smiling broadly, putting on his usual air of goofy innocence. To his surprise, she sighed heavily and pushed past him.
"Don't play coy with me, Joshua!" she exclaimed. "I don't want to play games anymore!"
"Um...what're you talking about, lil fella?" he asked, his breath catching when she moved to stand right in front of the painting that kept hidden the library door.
"You know very well!" With a flourish, she pulled the painting aside. He cringed. "I know who you really are, Joshua! I know that you are actually a highly intelligent British Naval officer from Spain who unfortunately got himself mixed up in some half-cocked genetic experiment! That's the real reason you don't have a barcode!"
"No!" he cried, covering his face with his hands. "It's not true! I'm an ignorant dog man, nothing more!"
"You can't deny it any longer, Joshua! I've seen the library! I've seen the pipe! I've even seen the monocle!"
He shrieked in horror. "NOOO!"
"Yes!" she retorted, slowly making her way over to him. "I know everything, Joshua, and it has led me to a life-altering conclusion."
He continued to cover his face, frightened by what such a conclusion could be. Was she going to do various unpleasant things to him for lying to her, for keeping such a terrible secret? Was she going to walk out of his life forever? Was she going to take away his monocle? The horror! The absolute horror!
"Joshua," she continued sternly, her body stiffening, "I am in love with you."
No! God no! Not that! Anything but...huh?
"W...what did you just say?" he asked incredulously, peering at her through his fingers. She smiled gently and held her arms out to him.
"I'm in love with you, Joshua. I even dyed my hair blond for you."
An uncontrollable grin took possession of his mouth. He couldn't believe it. The moment of his dreams had finally arrived, and he could hardly contain himself. A group of fairly talented musicians suddenly appeared in the corner of the room and struck up an epic, wondrously sappy symphony as he ran to her, tears of joy cascading down his face.
"Oh, my love!" he murmured as he drew her close. She smiled and he smiled and he smoothed her hair; her gorgeous, freshly blonde hair. "I thought you'd never come around."
"I always knew you were different, Joshua," she confessed. "I always had a feeling that you were a British guy from Spain, and now that I know for sure, I simply can't keep my feelings buried inside any longer! Speak to me in your delightfully cultured accent, darling!"
"Oh, Max, I love you like things that people love a lot," he gushed in his accent, making her swoon. "You are what the moon would be if it could breathe. But the moon can't breathe, and you can, which therefore makes you better than the moon."
"You're so romantic, Joshua!" She melted into his arms and took comfort in the beating of his heart. He swayed her gently, rubbing her back and touching her hair with a tenderness that was very tender. She sighed, and he rested his head on the top of hers.
"Let us run away to Quebec City together, my love," suggested he after a few moments' companionable silence.
"Yes," she agreed immediately. "We can have our wedding reception in the rotating restaurant, and live in the belfry of a church!"
"That sounds simply marvelous."
"You'd make anything marvelous, Joshua."
He pulled away to look into her eyes and, overcome with emotion, they both moved in for a kiss that would surely turn the stomachs of most shippers out there. However, before their lips could meet, the front door was busted down and in rushed two very angry men, namely Alec and Logan.
"Shit, boys and girls! We'd best make a run for it!" said one of the musicians. With that, they all panicked and ran screaming from the house, leaving their instruments behind. Alec and Logan looked after them curiously for a moment, looked to each other, shrugged, and then turned with malice toward Max and Joshua. A bone had to be picked, and it wasn't going to be a very nice one.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Logan demanded of them, his voice thick with quiet fury.
"Yeah. Whadaya think you're doing?" Alec repeated, just as furious. Max and Joshua held that much tighter to one another, which only further enraged the intruders.
"I thought we had something, Max," Logan and Alec said in unison. They slowly advanced toward the couple, who slowly backed away. It went on much like this until Joshua and Max made contact with one of them pesky walls. Damn them and their holding together of houses!
"Look, you two, we can do this the hard way or the easy way," Alec said matter-of-factly. "One way or another, this affront to nature is going to be put to a stop."
"It's NOT an affront to nature!" Max protested. "I love him, love him like I love grape nuts on ice, and there's nothing you can do about it!"
"Yeah!" Joshua added for effect. At that, a thoroughly incensed Alec and Logan attacked the British Naval officer from Spain, and Max screamed and shouted insults, suddenly forgetting that she was Max and could therefore kick their asses.
Luckily, a loud commotion from the fireplace distracted and successfully diverted the attentions of the very ridiculously jealous males. They, as well as Max and Joshua, all watched as a rather large cloud of soot and ash cleared to reveal... Santa Claus! Oh goody! Filled with childlike glee, they all ran over to jolly St. Nick and fell onto their knees before him, each begging to be given their presents.
"Oh please? Oh pretty please, with cherries on top?" Logan pleaded.
"Now now, children. Patience," Santa said with a very fake-sounding voice of uncharacteristic deepness. He looked around for a moment, sniffing the air. "Where the fuck are my milk and cookies?" The group stared at him, taken aback. "I was told that there would be milk and cookies if I took this job!" he continued almost wistfully. Spurred into action, Joshua scrambled to his feet.
"I'll got get some for you, Santa!" he offered. With that, he rushed into the kitchen, and Santa smiled gleefully.
"Such a nice little boy," he mused. "He's definitely going on my good list." He then turned to Alec and Logan, who cringed at the anger that was starkly apparent in the eyes of the jelly-filled gift-giver. "But as for you two, what in the world do you think you've been doing? Attacking Joshua out of selfishness and jealousy! Does Max not have a mind of her own? Does she not have the right to choose whom she wants to fuck? Really, now, you two should be ashamed of yourselves."
Logan and Alec hung their heads in shame. Santa was right; they had been assholes. Utter assholes, thinking only of themselves and not of the woman whom they claimed to love. Oh, the woe! Tears began to form in the corners of their eyes, tears of shame and need for retribution. When Joshua reappeared, the two men ran to him and pulled him into an unexpected group hug, causing him to drop the cookies and spill the milk all over himself.
"I love you, man!" Alec sobbed into Joshua's shoulder.
"I love you, too!" Logan weeped. Joshua stood motionless, arms at his sides, thoroughly creeped out. Max stared incredulously and raised a disgusted eyebrow.
"Fuckin pansies," she mumbled.
" 'Fuckin pansies' is right," Santa agreed as his anger swelled once again. "Fuckers spilled my milk and cookies!"
At this statement, Logan and Alec backed away from their new bestest best buddy in the whole wide world and surveyed the damage that they had done. Oh, more woe! How could they have been so clumsy? How could they have done something to so upset Santa, the ultimate symbol of generosity and good will? Saddened beyond the widely accepted brink of sadness and further causing Max to wonder how she could ever have hung out with such overly sensitive loserish peoples who can't seem to control their emotions, they ran to Santa and threw their arms around him, now sobbing into his signature red suit.
"Oh Santa, we're sorry!" Logan cried.
"Yeah, Santa," Alec added. "We love you!"
"We love you so much, man!"
"Eww, get offa me!" Santa shouted to their surprise. He pushed them forcefully away, and the inertia of this action caused him to stumble backward into the fireplace. He coughed and sputtered and struggled as a new cloud of soot and ash rose up around him. When the dust finally settled, a gasp rose up around him; his beard had gone askew, his hat had fallen off, and his sleeve had ripped to reveal a "familiar" (HAHA pun!) mark on his forearm.
"Oh my Blue Lady, you're not Santa!" Max exclaimed. "Why...why...you're...
"...White!" Alec, Logan, and Joshua finished for her. White sighed heavily.
"Okay, okay. So I'm White," he admitted. "I became Santa Claus in order to steal all the milk and cookies in the world so that I could sell them at ridiculously high prices and use the money to buy a yacht that could host Familiar rituals. I would've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling transgenics and your underground cyberjournalist."
The group shook their heads in unison. It looked almost as if they had practiced the motion, which they actually had a few months ago in the event that something such as this would happen. After all, four people shaking their heads at the same time are more intimidating than one.
"I'm very disappointed in you, White," Logan muttered. "It's one thing to try and wipe out an entire species, but to trick people into thinking that you're Santa and then steal for them? Now that's just wrong."
"What do you plan to do about it?" White questioned, challenging them. He knew he was done for, but he had a hard-ass reputation to uphold, even in death.
"Why, we're going to kill," answered Alec. He, Logan, and Joshua all began to advance on him, menacingly rolling up their sleeves as they did so. Max, however, randomly stepped in front of them and held them back.
"Max, darling, what are you doing?" Joshua asked softly.
"I wanna be the one to do this," she replied simply. With that, she spun around on her heels and whipped out a gun, to the surprise of everyone, even White.
"But Max," White protested. "You don't like guns!"
Max shrugged. "Well, everyone else is hopelessly out of character, so I figure I might as well be, too." In the next instant, the trigger had been pulled and White lay dead, a single bullet hole resting proudly in the center of his forehead.
"Hmm. So that's all we had to do this entire time," Logan mused.
The others thought this over for a moment. "Fuck, we're dumb," stated Alec. The boy certainly had a point.
Quite suddenly, a washed-up rapped wearing a "P" on a gold chain rushed into the room, peering around in confusion. "I heard a gunshot! I heard a gunshot!" he cried.
"Who the hell are you?" Joshua asked. Everyone gasped. Oh my god, Joshua said "hell!" But then, Naval officers are known for their swearing and Max had just used a gun, so they decided that it wasn't so terribly odd after all and resolved to let it go.
"Don't you recognize me?" inquired the washed-up rapper. The group shook their heads in unison. "What if I put on my shades?" the rapped asked desperately, fumbling to put on a beat-up pair of sunglasses. The group shook their heads yet again, and the rapped sighed. "I'm P. Diddy you fools!" They all stared blankly, and he felt like he might cry, but he's a tough-ass mofo so he kept his composure.
"Why would we recognize you?" Logan asked bemusedly.
"Well, I used to be pretty big. You know, on the rape scene and all," he responded proudly. Max and friends continued to stare blankly.
"That's nice," said Alec with a blasé yawn.
"Hey, wait, I think I DO remember you," Max said suddenly, drawing curious stares from her cohorts. Her eyes lit up as the memory returned to her. "Aw, yeah! You work that hot dog stand on the corner of South Market!"
P. Diddy cringed. They weren't supposed to know THAT! Meanwhile, at the mention of hot "dogs," Joshua yelped and moved into a far corner of the room, curling up in a ball and whimpering softly. Then he remember that he rather enjoyed hot dogs and that he had served them with macaroni for dinner once, and realizing the hypocrisy of his actions, he frantically pulled himself back up to his feet and brushed himself off, whistling innocently.
"Haha, you went from the big time to selling hot dogs!" Alec chuckled, pointing an amused finger at the rapper.
"How pathetic," agreed Logan. Max frowned.
"He's NOT pathetic," she insisted. "When I was choking on one of his hot dogs last week, he did the Heimlich on me. He...he saved my life." She moved over to him and cupped his cheek in her hand, to the horror of the three other men in the room. "Ya know, he's kinda cute, too."
"Max, wha..." Joshua mumbled, at a loss for words as she leaned in and kissed P. Diddy.
"I'm sorry, Joshua," she said sadly. "And Logan. And Alec. But I have to follow my heart, and I think my heart belongs to P. Diddy."
"Ya know what," P. Diddy interjected wistfully, "I think I'm gonna go back to Puff Daddy."
"Very well," said Max with a smile. "My heart belongs to Puff Daddy."
"But...but what about all the things you said earlier? What about our plans? What about Quebec City?"
"Joshua, I'm Max. I am romantically confused and only just learned how to handle love. Did you really expect for us to last forever?"
Logan put a sympathetic hand on Joshua's shoulder. "It's true, you know. It's sad, but you'll learn to live with it in time."
"Thank you, Logan," stated Max. "Now, farewell, everyone! I'll call you some time." With that, she and Puff Daddy walked from the house, exiting the lives of Logan, Alec, and Joshua for as long as she could stand to live with an arrogant, washed-up rapped who sells hot dogs. In other words, not very long. But to the men she had left behind, "not very long" was equivalent to eternity. The sorrow was nearly unbearable.
"What are we gonna do now?" Alec asked his companions.
"Well, you could come out and get some coffee with me," came a voice from behind. The three of them turned to see a rather familiar-looking individual dressed in an elf costume.
"Lydecker? Is that you?" Logan asked, having difficulty trusting his vision.
"Yup. It is I, Colonel Donald Lydecker, the jolly elf."
After the multitude of ridiculously strange things that had happened today, this didn't seem too out of the ordinary. So, with a shrug, the three heartbroken men let Lydecker lead them to a coffee shop down the street, where they poured out their hearts to him. He listened intently, squeezing hands and offering advice. It was rather pleasant, all things considered.
"...and so, she left me," Joshua finally finished about half an hour after they'd arrived at the coffee shop.
"Me too," added Logan.
"Me three," Alec chimed in.
"Me four," Lydecker stated. The others stared at him like he was crazy.
"No, you fool! You're Lydecker!" Logan pointed out.
"Oh. Right."
"Anyway," stated Joshua with a sigh, "this is some damn good coffee."
"What're you talking about? It tastes like goat piss!" Alec retorted.
"Yup," Joshua said passively. "Damn good coffee."
THE END!!!
Anyway, I've been toying with the general idea of this fic for some time now, but I didn't get the motivation to write it until a few days ago, when I had a chance encounter with fellow writer White Kitty. So, thanks to her. Give her some props, people! w00t!
WHAT'S UP WITH THE RATING?: Simple. It's not bold enough to be R, and not cuddly enough to be PG. Wee.
Our Good Friend MR. DISCLAIMER: FF writers might as well own the damn show now, but alas, we do not. THE SORROW! *sob*
*******
Joshua was reading quietly in his personal library when he heard an inexplicable knock at the door.
"Now who in the world could that be?" he asked himself in a cultured, slightly British accent. It wasn't at all like Max or Alec to knock. Hmm...he would have to investigate. He carefully set down the book, uncrossed his legs, and removed the pipe from his mouth. He thought to take off his monocle, but decided against it. If it was a random visitor, they might think better of him if he was wearing the monocle. Smart people from Oxford wear monocles, so he'd thusly look smart and Oxfordian. Yay!
He locked the door to his library and covered it with one of his paintings, then made his way to the front door. Cautiously, he peered through the peephole. His heard leapt. It was Max after all! Max with blond hair, no less, but Max all the same! Oh joy! Oh rapturous joy! Frantically, he tried to figure out what do with his hands. After a few minutes of fumbling, Max called out to let him know that she was coming in, and worked her key into the door. In the last second before she set eyes on him, he managed to rip off the monocle and drop it into his pocket.
"Uh...uh...hullo, Max," he greeted her, smiling broadly, putting on his usual air of goofy innocence. To his surprise, she sighed heavily and pushed past him.
"Don't play coy with me, Joshua!" she exclaimed. "I don't want to play games anymore!"
"Um...what're you talking about, lil fella?" he asked, his breath catching when she moved to stand right in front of the painting that kept hidden the library door.
"You know very well!" With a flourish, she pulled the painting aside. He cringed. "I know who you really are, Joshua! I know that you are actually a highly intelligent British Naval officer from Spain who unfortunately got himself mixed up in some half-cocked genetic experiment! That's the real reason you don't have a barcode!"
"No!" he cried, covering his face with his hands. "It's not true! I'm an ignorant dog man, nothing more!"
"You can't deny it any longer, Joshua! I've seen the library! I've seen the pipe! I've even seen the monocle!"
He shrieked in horror. "NOOO!"
"Yes!" she retorted, slowly making her way over to him. "I know everything, Joshua, and it has led me to a life-altering conclusion."
He continued to cover his face, frightened by what such a conclusion could be. Was she going to do various unpleasant things to him for lying to her, for keeping such a terrible secret? Was she going to walk out of his life forever? Was she going to take away his monocle? The horror! The absolute horror!
"Joshua," she continued sternly, her body stiffening, "I am in love with you."
No! God no! Not that! Anything but...huh?
"W...what did you just say?" he asked incredulously, peering at her through his fingers. She smiled gently and held her arms out to him.
"I'm in love with you, Joshua. I even dyed my hair blond for you."
An uncontrollable grin took possession of his mouth. He couldn't believe it. The moment of his dreams had finally arrived, and he could hardly contain himself. A group of fairly talented musicians suddenly appeared in the corner of the room and struck up an epic, wondrously sappy symphony as he ran to her, tears of joy cascading down his face.
"Oh, my love!" he murmured as he drew her close. She smiled and he smiled and he smoothed her hair; her gorgeous, freshly blonde hair. "I thought you'd never come around."
"I always knew you were different, Joshua," she confessed. "I always had a feeling that you were a British guy from Spain, and now that I know for sure, I simply can't keep my feelings buried inside any longer! Speak to me in your delightfully cultured accent, darling!"
"Oh, Max, I love you like things that people love a lot," he gushed in his accent, making her swoon. "You are what the moon would be if it could breathe. But the moon can't breathe, and you can, which therefore makes you better than the moon."
"You're so romantic, Joshua!" She melted into his arms and took comfort in the beating of his heart. He swayed her gently, rubbing her back and touching her hair with a tenderness that was very tender. She sighed, and he rested his head on the top of hers.
"Let us run away to Quebec City together, my love," suggested he after a few moments' companionable silence.
"Yes," she agreed immediately. "We can have our wedding reception in the rotating restaurant, and live in the belfry of a church!"
"That sounds simply marvelous."
"You'd make anything marvelous, Joshua."
He pulled away to look into her eyes and, overcome with emotion, they both moved in for a kiss that would surely turn the stomachs of most shippers out there. However, before their lips could meet, the front door was busted down and in rushed two very angry men, namely Alec and Logan.
"Shit, boys and girls! We'd best make a run for it!" said one of the musicians. With that, they all panicked and ran screaming from the house, leaving their instruments behind. Alec and Logan looked after them curiously for a moment, looked to each other, shrugged, and then turned with malice toward Max and Joshua. A bone had to be picked, and it wasn't going to be a very nice one.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Logan demanded of them, his voice thick with quiet fury.
"Yeah. Whadaya think you're doing?" Alec repeated, just as furious. Max and Joshua held that much tighter to one another, which only further enraged the intruders.
"I thought we had something, Max," Logan and Alec said in unison. They slowly advanced toward the couple, who slowly backed away. It went on much like this until Joshua and Max made contact with one of them pesky walls. Damn them and their holding together of houses!
"Look, you two, we can do this the hard way or the easy way," Alec said matter-of-factly. "One way or another, this affront to nature is going to be put to a stop."
"It's NOT an affront to nature!" Max protested. "I love him, love him like I love grape nuts on ice, and there's nothing you can do about it!"
"Yeah!" Joshua added for effect. At that, a thoroughly incensed Alec and Logan attacked the British Naval officer from Spain, and Max screamed and shouted insults, suddenly forgetting that she was Max and could therefore kick their asses.
Luckily, a loud commotion from the fireplace distracted and successfully diverted the attentions of the very ridiculously jealous males. They, as well as Max and Joshua, all watched as a rather large cloud of soot and ash cleared to reveal... Santa Claus! Oh goody! Filled with childlike glee, they all ran over to jolly St. Nick and fell onto their knees before him, each begging to be given their presents.
"Oh please? Oh pretty please, with cherries on top?" Logan pleaded.
"Now now, children. Patience," Santa said with a very fake-sounding voice of uncharacteristic deepness. He looked around for a moment, sniffing the air. "Where the fuck are my milk and cookies?" The group stared at him, taken aback. "I was told that there would be milk and cookies if I took this job!" he continued almost wistfully. Spurred into action, Joshua scrambled to his feet.
"I'll got get some for you, Santa!" he offered. With that, he rushed into the kitchen, and Santa smiled gleefully.
"Such a nice little boy," he mused. "He's definitely going on my good list." He then turned to Alec and Logan, who cringed at the anger that was starkly apparent in the eyes of the jelly-filled gift-giver. "But as for you two, what in the world do you think you've been doing? Attacking Joshua out of selfishness and jealousy! Does Max not have a mind of her own? Does she not have the right to choose whom she wants to fuck? Really, now, you two should be ashamed of yourselves."
Logan and Alec hung their heads in shame. Santa was right; they had been assholes. Utter assholes, thinking only of themselves and not of the woman whom they claimed to love. Oh, the woe! Tears began to form in the corners of their eyes, tears of shame and need for retribution. When Joshua reappeared, the two men ran to him and pulled him into an unexpected group hug, causing him to drop the cookies and spill the milk all over himself.
"I love you, man!" Alec sobbed into Joshua's shoulder.
"I love you, too!" Logan weeped. Joshua stood motionless, arms at his sides, thoroughly creeped out. Max stared incredulously and raised a disgusted eyebrow.
"Fuckin pansies," she mumbled.
" 'Fuckin pansies' is right," Santa agreed as his anger swelled once again. "Fuckers spilled my milk and cookies!"
At this statement, Logan and Alec backed away from their new bestest best buddy in the whole wide world and surveyed the damage that they had done. Oh, more woe! How could they have been so clumsy? How could they have done something to so upset Santa, the ultimate symbol of generosity and good will? Saddened beyond the widely accepted brink of sadness and further causing Max to wonder how she could ever have hung out with such overly sensitive loserish peoples who can't seem to control their emotions, they ran to Santa and threw their arms around him, now sobbing into his signature red suit.
"Oh Santa, we're sorry!" Logan cried.
"Yeah, Santa," Alec added. "We love you!"
"We love you so much, man!"
"Eww, get offa me!" Santa shouted to their surprise. He pushed them forcefully away, and the inertia of this action caused him to stumble backward into the fireplace. He coughed and sputtered and struggled as a new cloud of soot and ash rose up around him. When the dust finally settled, a gasp rose up around him; his beard had gone askew, his hat had fallen off, and his sleeve had ripped to reveal a "familiar" (HAHA pun!) mark on his forearm.
"Oh my Blue Lady, you're not Santa!" Max exclaimed. "Why...why...you're...
"...White!" Alec, Logan, and Joshua finished for her. White sighed heavily.
"Okay, okay. So I'm White," he admitted. "I became Santa Claus in order to steal all the milk and cookies in the world so that I could sell them at ridiculously high prices and use the money to buy a yacht that could host Familiar rituals. I would've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling transgenics and your underground cyberjournalist."
The group shook their heads in unison. It looked almost as if they had practiced the motion, which they actually had a few months ago in the event that something such as this would happen. After all, four people shaking their heads at the same time are more intimidating than one.
"I'm very disappointed in you, White," Logan muttered. "It's one thing to try and wipe out an entire species, but to trick people into thinking that you're Santa and then steal for them? Now that's just wrong."
"What do you plan to do about it?" White questioned, challenging them. He knew he was done for, but he had a hard-ass reputation to uphold, even in death.
"Why, we're going to kill," answered Alec. He, Logan, and Joshua all began to advance on him, menacingly rolling up their sleeves as they did so. Max, however, randomly stepped in front of them and held them back.
"Max, darling, what are you doing?" Joshua asked softly.
"I wanna be the one to do this," she replied simply. With that, she spun around on her heels and whipped out a gun, to the surprise of everyone, even White.
"But Max," White protested. "You don't like guns!"
Max shrugged. "Well, everyone else is hopelessly out of character, so I figure I might as well be, too." In the next instant, the trigger had been pulled and White lay dead, a single bullet hole resting proudly in the center of his forehead.
"Hmm. So that's all we had to do this entire time," Logan mused.
The others thought this over for a moment. "Fuck, we're dumb," stated Alec. The boy certainly had a point.
Quite suddenly, a washed-up rapped wearing a "P" on a gold chain rushed into the room, peering around in confusion. "I heard a gunshot! I heard a gunshot!" he cried.
"Who the hell are you?" Joshua asked. Everyone gasped. Oh my god, Joshua said "hell!" But then, Naval officers are known for their swearing and Max had just used a gun, so they decided that it wasn't so terribly odd after all and resolved to let it go.
"Don't you recognize me?" inquired the washed-up rapper. The group shook their heads in unison. "What if I put on my shades?" the rapped asked desperately, fumbling to put on a beat-up pair of sunglasses. The group shook their heads yet again, and the rapped sighed. "I'm P. Diddy you fools!" They all stared blankly, and he felt like he might cry, but he's a tough-ass mofo so he kept his composure.
"Why would we recognize you?" Logan asked bemusedly.
"Well, I used to be pretty big. You know, on the rape scene and all," he responded proudly. Max and friends continued to stare blankly.
"That's nice," said Alec with a blasé yawn.
"Hey, wait, I think I DO remember you," Max said suddenly, drawing curious stares from her cohorts. Her eyes lit up as the memory returned to her. "Aw, yeah! You work that hot dog stand on the corner of South Market!"
P. Diddy cringed. They weren't supposed to know THAT! Meanwhile, at the mention of hot "dogs," Joshua yelped and moved into a far corner of the room, curling up in a ball and whimpering softly. Then he remember that he rather enjoyed hot dogs and that he had served them with macaroni for dinner once, and realizing the hypocrisy of his actions, he frantically pulled himself back up to his feet and brushed himself off, whistling innocently.
"Haha, you went from the big time to selling hot dogs!" Alec chuckled, pointing an amused finger at the rapper.
"How pathetic," agreed Logan. Max frowned.
"He's NOT pathetic," she insisted. "When I was choking on one of his hot dogs last week, he did the Heimlich on me. He...he saved my life." She moved over to him and cupped his cheek in her hand, to the horror of the three other men in the room. "Ya know, he's kinda cute, too."
"Max, wha..." Joshua mumbled, at a loss for words as she leaned in and kissed P. Diddy.
"I'm sorry, Joshua," she said sadly. "And Logan. And Alec. But I have to follow my heart, and I think my heart belongs to P. Diddy."
"Ya know what," P. Diddy interjected wistfully, "I think I'm gonna go back to Puff Daddy."
"Very well," said Max with a smile. "My heart belongs to Puff Daddy."
"But...but what about all the things you said earlier? What about our plans? What about Quebec City?"
"Joshua, I'm Max. I am romantically confused and only just learned how to handle love. Did you really expect for us to last forever?"
Logan put a sympathetic hand on Joshua's shoulder. "It's true, you know. It's sad, but you'll learn to live with it in time."
"Thank you, Logan," stated Max. "Now, farewell, everyone! I'll call you some time." With that, she and Puff Daddy walked from the house, exiting the lives of Logan, Alec, and Joshua for as long as she could stand to live with an arrogant, washed-up rapped who sells hot dogs. In other words, not very long. But to the men she had left behind, "not very long" was equivalent to eternity. The sorrow was nearly unbearable.
"What are we gonna do now?" Alec asked his companions.
"Well, you could come out and get some coffee with me," came a voice from behind. The three of them turned to see a rather familiar-looking individual dressed in an elf costume.
"Lydecker? Is that you?" Logan asked, having difficulty trusting his vision.
"Yup. It is I, Colonel Donald Lydecker, the jolly elf."
After the multitude of ridiculously strange things that had happened today, this didn't seem too out of the ordinary. So, with a shrug, the three heartbroken men let Lydecker lead them to a coffee shop down the street, where they poured out their hearts to him. He listened intently, squeezing hands and offering advice. It was rather pleasant, all things considered.
"...and so, she left me," Joshua finally finished about half an hour after they'd arrived at the coffee shop.
"Me too," added Logan.
"Me three," Alec chimed in.
"Me four," Lydecker stated. The others stared at him like he was crazy.
"No, you fool! You're Lydecker!" Logan pointed out.
"Oh. Right."
"Anyway," stated Joshua with a sigh, "this is some damn good coffee."
"What're you talking about? It tastes like goat piss!" Alec retorted.
"Yup," Joshua said passively. "Damn good coffee."
THE END!!!