Band of Brotherhoodies
Disclamier: As our regular views know, I'm right on the edge of hip... Or hip replacement.
Review Response:
"G'day!" John chortled as he walked into the door of Walley's Grocer the next morning. "I'm Saint John Allerdyce, and I'm here about the job as food stalker."
"It's stocker, not stalker," A rather fat man with a burly mustache said.
"Yes, yes, well, do I get the job or not?" John placed his hands on his hips and glared at the rather fat man. The fat man looked around and then looked back down at John.
"Well, since you're the only person who's showed up... You're hired!" He threw John a dark green apron. "You can start by stocking the fruit. There's a huge vat of pineapples that need work."
"Jolly good than!" John than pranced off to where the fruit was to be stalked, er, stocked.
"OH! Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?" John sang as he placed the pineapples neatly in a pyramid.
"SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS!" His audience of little kids and their mothers, and some rather strange other beings yelled, quite amused by John's rendition of Sponge Bob.
"Absorbant and yellow and porous is he!"
"SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS!"
"If nautical nonsense be something you wish!"
"SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS!"
"That drop on the deck and flop like a fish!"
"SPONGE BOB SQARE PANTS! SPONGE BOB SQURE PANTS! SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS! SPONGE BON SQUARE PANTS! SPONGE- Bob Square- Oh, hello..." John finished meekly, staring into the face of Walley himself. "And that kids, is why television is bad for you, it gets you in trouble," John looked back at the kids and shooed them off. He then turned back to look at Walley. "Oi! You look jus' like the fat man who hired me!" John said stupidly.
"I AM the fat man who hired you," Walley narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, please, Walley, don't fire me! No, no, please! Don't fire me! I live on the streets with my friends, and we have to get odd jobs to pay for food, last night I only had one moldy fry from McDonalds, and I slept under a bridge, with only the clothes on my back, and my lovely shiela to keep me warm. Oh, please, please, don't fire me!" John got down on his knees and looked up at Walley, his eyes wide, threatening to spill over with fake tears.
"Ah, you got me kid," Walley said, looking sternly at John.
"You really mean it?" John asked, standing back up.
"NO! YOU'RE FIRED!"
"AAAAKKKKKKKK!" A loud scream echoed from Isle 5. The Home Supplies Isle.
"HELP! LITTLE TIMMY WAS PLAYING WITH A LIGHTER AND ISLE FIVE CAUGHT ON FIRE!" A woman screamed, running to Walley, clutching him, crying.
"What do I look like? A super hero?" Walley asked, looking disdainfully at the woman. "All I care about is my prophets!"
"Excuse me, ma'am?" John asked, dragging the woman away from Walley. "I'm no super hero, but I once worked for a super villan. Well, super villan, but he wore a bucket on his head and a cape..."
"Is this going anywhere? Timmy is dying!" The woman yelled sternly.
"Right... I'm just what you need!" John ripped off his apron and struck a pose. "I'm... PYRO! DUN DUN DUN! Here I come! To save the day!" John yelled, leaping into the flames that had now engulfed quite a bit of isle five, isle six, and isle four.
"Never fear, Timmy! For Pyro is here!" John pranced through the flames, making sure they didn't burn him until he found a poor little kid hovering in a corner right below some vodka that was threatening to fall.
"Help me mister!" Timmy said, weekly, coughing.
"No problemo kiddie!" John said, moonwalking towards Timmy, ignoring the banana peel on the floor. SHLIP! John skidded head long into the display of vodka that Timmy was hovering by, sending the vodka toppling to the floor, breaking. SHABOOM! A big explosion racked the store, which the fire had now consumed all of.
"Timmy..." Timmy's mother said, crying into John's apron.
"Look! What's that!" A random passerby said, pointing at the firey store of DOOM!
"It's a bird!" They pointed to one part of the fire.
"It's a plane!" They pointed to another.
"NO! It's... Dundundundun! A weird guy in spandex with a kid on his back?" Yes, that ruined the atmosphere.
"Sir! Sir! Can we speak with you a moment!" The news crews, that had arrived, grabbed John as soon as he left the fire.
"Sure, I don't see why not," John said, with Timmy still on his back.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I'm Trish Tilby, Channel 42 reporter. We're here with breaking news. A fire has just erupted in Walley's Grocer in downtown Bayville. I'm here with a brave young man who risked life and limb to go into the flaming building and rescue poor little Timmy Turner. Young man, what is your name?" Trish turned to John.
"Saint John Allerdyce!" John said happily, winking at his audience.
"And may I be the first to say, you certainly are a saint!"
"That's not what me mother said. She said I'm as far away from a saint as you can possibly get. Possibly the fact that saint's don't burn down marijuana fields and get half the town high when their powers first immerge..." John was rambling.
"Powers?" Trish raised an eyebrow.
"Yerp. I'm a mutant! And damn proud o' it too!"
"So, what are your powers?"
"I can manipulate fire! So, therefore, it was bloody easy for me to rescue this sweet little pumpkin. An' I got me own theme song!"
"Yes, I'm sure. Now for those of our audience at home who may think that you started the fire, what were you doing at Walley's Grocers?"
"I was workin'. I was a food stocker, until Walley fired me fer' singin' on the job. Then lil' Timmy had wondered loose in Isle Five, and set a few pieces of paper on fire."
"And there was no fire extinquisher?" Trish asked.
"Well, if there was, no one was smart enough to use it."
"Are you saying that the general populace is stupid?"
"Umm... If they fear us mutants jus' because we got some powers that they don't... Um, yeah, that would make 'um stupid," John said with a smile.
"Well thank you Mr. Allerdyce, but one last question before we leave."
"And what's that?"
"Why did you save Timmy?"
"Because I felt it was my civic duty! Nah, not really. I did it because I felt that that's what my shiela woulda wanted me to do."
"Thank you Mr. Allerdyce. I'm Trish Tilby, goodnight!" The TV was then shut off.
"Great, just great, he gets a job stocking pineapples, and gets instant hero status, and we're stuck doing messy jobs and get no hero status!" Lance whinned.
"We were heroes once too, ya know," Todd said.
"But you caused all those accidents," Wanda pointed out.
"Excuse me, but I think it was you who first caused the first accident!" Lance shot back.
"Fuck off!" Wanda said angrily, getting up.
"Well, at least I got one god thing outta this," Pietro said.
"What was that?"
"A whole buncha girl's phone numbers!" This caused the entirety of the Brotherhood who was there to launce a pillow at Pietro, who saw it coming and ran to the door. SHMACK!
"Watch where ya goin', mate!" John chirped cheerfully. "An' guess what? I got a butt load o' money! So, when do we start with the song writin'?" This caused the pillows to be launched at John.
Disclamier: As our regular views know, I'm right on the edge of hip... Or hip replacement.
Review Response:
Flamable—Thanks for the killer idea that I just got from your review. A grocery clerk! Yes, there will be pineapples, just for you!
Demon Rogue 13- Glad you liked it.
Kyuushi- Thanks! No problem. She'll appear later too… At the concert. Thanks for reviewing!
Snowee—Thanks!
Note-- The bold thing is being majorly stupid. Sorry for having the
"G'day!" John chortled as he walked into the door of Walley's Grocer the next morning. "I'm Saint John Allerdyce, and I'm here about the job as food stalker."
"It's stocker, not stalker," A rather fat man with a burly mustache said.
"Yes, yes, well, do I get the job or not?" John placed his hands on his hips and glared at the rather fat man. The fat man looked around and then looked back down at John.
"Well, since you're the only person who's showed up... You're hired!" He threw John a dark green apron. "You can start by stocking the fruit. There's a huge vat of pineapples that need work."
"Jolly good than!" John than pranced off to where the fruit was to be stalked, er, stocked.
"OH! Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?" John sang as he placed the pineapples neatly in a pyramid.
"SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS!" His audience of little kids and their mothers, and some rather strange other beings yelled, quite amused by John's rendition of Sponge Bob.
"Absorbant and yellow and porous is he!"
"SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS!"
"If nautical nonsense be something you wish!"
"SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS!"
"That drop on the deck and flop like a fish!"
"SPONGE BOB SQARE PANTS! SPONGE BOB SQURE PANTS! SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS! SPONGE BON SQUARE PANTS! SPONGE- Bob Square- Oh, hello..." John finished meekly, staring into the face of Walley himself. "And that kids, is why television is bad for you, it gets you in trouble," John looked back at the kids and shooed them off. He then turned back to look at Walley. "Oi! You look jus' like the fat man who hired me!" John said stupidly.
"I AM the fat man who hired you," Walley narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, please, Walley, don't fire me! No, no, please! Don't fire me! I live on the streets with my friends, and we have to get odd jobs to pay for food, last night I only had one moldy fry from McDonalds, and I slept under a bridge, with only the clothes on my back, and my lovely shiela to keep me warm. Oh, please, please, don't fire me!" John got down on his knees and looked up at Walley, his eyes wide, threatening to spill over with fake tears.
"Ah, you got me kid," Walley said, looking sternly at John.
"You really mean it?" John asked, standing back up.
"NO! YOU'RE FIRED!"
"AAAAKKKKKKKK!" A loud scream echoed from Isle 5. The Home Supplies Isle.
"HELP! LITTLE TIMMY WAS PLAYING WITH A LIGHTER AND ISLE FIVE CAUGHT ON FIRE!" A woman screamed, running to Walley, clutching him, crying.
"What do I look like? A super hero?" Walley asked, looking disdainfully at the woman. "All I care about is my prophets!"
"Excuse me, ma'am?" John asked, dragging the woman away from Walley. "I'm no super hero, but I once worked for a super villan. Well, super villan, but he wore a bucket on his head and a cape..."
"Is this going anywhere? Timmy is dying!" The woman yelled sternly.
"Right... I'm just what you need!" John ripped off his apron and struck a pose. "I'm... PYRO! DUN DUN DUN! Here I come! To save the day!" John yelled, leaping into the flames that had now engulfed quite a bit of isle five, isle six, and isle four.
"Never fear, Timmy! For Pyro is here!" John pranced through the flames, making sure they didn't burn him until he found a poor little kid hovering in a corner right below some vodka that was threatening to fall.
"Help me mister!" Timmy said, weekly, coughing.
"No problemo kiddie!" John said, moonwalking towards Timmy, ignoring the banana peel on the floor. SHLIP! John skidded head long into the display of vodka that Timmy was hovering by, sending the vodka toppling to the floor, breaking. SHABOOM! A big explosion racked the store, which the fire had now consumed all of.
"Timmy..." Timmy's mother said, crying into John's apron.
"Look! What's that!" A random passerby said, pointing at the firey store of DOOM!
"It's a bird!" They pointed to one part of the fire.
"It's a plane!" They pointed to another.
"NO! It's... Dundundundun! A weird guy in spandex with a kid on his back?" Yes, that ruined the atmosphere.
"Sir! Sir! Can we speak with you a moment!" The news crews, that had arrived, grabbed John as soon as he left the fire.
"Sure, I don't see why not," John said, with Timmy still on his back.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I'm Trish Tilby, Channel 42 reporter. We're here with breaking news. A fire has just erupted in Walley's Grocer in downtown Bayville. I'm here with a brave young man who risked life and limb to go into the flaming building and rescue poor little Timmy Turner. Young man, what is your name?" Trish turned to John.
"Saint John Allerdyce!" John said happily, winking at his audience.
"And may I be the first to say, you certainly are a saint!"
"That's not what me mother said. She said I'm as far away from a saint as you can possibly get. Possibly the fact that saint's don't burn down marijuana fields and get half the town high when their powers first immerge..." John was rambling.
"Powers?" Trish raised an eyebrow.
"Yerp. I'm a mutant! And damn proud o' it too!"
"So, what are your powers?"
"I can manipulate fire! So, therefore, it was bloody easy for me to rescue this sweet little pumpkin. An' I got me own theme song!"
"Yes, I'm sure. Now for those of our audience at home who may think that you started the fire, what were you doing at Walley's Grocers?"
"I was workin'. I was a food stocker, until Walley fired me fer' singin' on the job. Then lil' Timmy had wondered loose in Isle Five, and set a few pieces of paper on fire."
"And there was no fire extinquisher?" Trish asked.
"Well, if there was, no one was smart enough to use it."
"Are you saying that the general populace is stupid?"
"Umm... If they fear us mutants jus' because we got some powers that they don't... Um, yeah, that would make 'um stupid," John said with a smile.
"Well thank you Mr. Allerdyce, but one last question before we leave."
"And what's that?"
"Why did you save Timmy?"
"Because I felt it was my civic duty! Nah, not really. I did it because I felt that that's what my shiela woulda wanted me to do."
"Thank you Mr. Allerdyce. I'm Trish Tilby, goodnight!" The TV was then shut off.
"Great, just great, he gets a job stocking pineapples, and gets instant hero status, and we're stuck doing messy jobs and get no hero status!" Lance whinned.
"We were heroes once too, ya know," Todd said.
"But you caused all those accidents," Wanda pointed out.
"Excuse me, but I think it was you who first caused the first accident!" Lance shot back.
"Fuck off!" Wanda said angrily, getting up.
"Well, at least I got one god thing outta this," Pietro said.
"What was that?"
"A whole buncha girl's phone numbers!" This caused the entirety of the Brotherhood who was there to launce a pillow at Pietro, who saw it coming and ran to the door. SHMACK!
"Watch where ya goin', mate!" John chirped cheerfully. "An' guess what? I got a butt load o' money! So, when do we start with the song writin'?" This caused the pillows to be launched at John.