As One walked back to their table, two beers in each hand, he could hear Two's voice, unnaturally giggly, rise over the background noise.

"So then the proton says, 'I'm positive!'"

While Four unceremoniously shoved the collection of empty bottles to one side, One carefully set the new beers onto the table.

"I don't get it," the Australian crinkled his brow in drunken confusion. Two was laughing too hard to explain. One shook his head, twisting the cap off another beer and taking a drink. While the original plan had simply consisted of sneaking into the bar and attempting a successful alcohol purchase, it had quickly morphed into something rather ridiculous, at least in One's opinion. Through the alcohol haze slowly enveloping his mind, he wasn't exactly sure how it'd happened; something about "breaking the adult tyranny" and "spitting in the face of the oppressors". The younger boys could be very convincing, between the two of them.

Finally managing to muffle his giggles, Two grabbed another beer and cheerfully clinked bottles with One's. "Cheers!" Four rolled his eyes and stood up rather unsteadily.

"I'm gonna go play pool," he said thickly, frowning in concentration. "You guys wanna come?"

"Absolutely!" Two jumped to his feet. One nodded, standing up as well. The three of them started over to the pool tables, weaving through the crowded bar. As they reached the table, a rather large man brushed past, nearly knocking Four off his feet.

"'Ey! Watch it!" Four scrambled back up and glared angrily at the man. The larger figure stopped and turned around, peering down a large, hooked nose at the blond. He paused for a moment and then laughed; a loud, condescending laugh that sent flakes of dandruff floating through the air.

"Whatever, squirt," the man said and turned to leave again. Four, with a choked sound of anger, grabbed the back of the man's ratty tee-shirt and spun him back around.

"What did you call me?" the Australian voice was quiet, restrained; a sure warning sign of danger to his friends. One reached forward to squeeze the shorter boy's shoulder and was abruptly shrugged off. Two, in his current state, could only watch in slight confusion at the escalating hostility.

The man was starting to look irritated. With slow deliberation, he reached out and, placing a large, meaty hand on Four's chest, gave the blond boy a shove. "You don't want to start something with me, small man."

The only warning was a slow, possibly impaired blinking of angry green eyes. Then, with a furious howl, Four launched himself at the larger man. In any normal circumstances, there would have been no hope of stopping the blond – even with him being drunk, it still took both One and Two to haul him off. The man spared them one fearful glance and then disappeared into the crowd, leaving only the three teenagers as witness.

As Four began to protest the intrusion in his efforts, One sighed deeply and took a long drink. He obviously wasn't drunk enough.


After Four's fight and the subsequent sobering up (although not by much), One had decided they should leave the bar. So there the three of them were, stumbling down the street in a confused huddle, attempting to make their way home. And all was well until, out of the darkness, came one of the most chilling noises had ever heard by man.

"NIGIE!"

One's head perked up, giant smile on his face. Two and Four looked at each other in horror.

"Liz–" The call was silenced suddenly by Four's hand over his leader's mouth. Two looked around wildly, praying the girl hadn't heard them. Ignoring their leader's struggle to free himself, the two of them made a silent decision and dragged the British boy into the nearest lit doorway, disappearing from the street.

The redheaded girl arrived in their vacated spot not a minute later. Glancing around, rather lost, she sighed. Turning back to her friends, she shrugged, and they all moved off, back into the darkness from which they came.

Two, who had been carefully watching through the door, turned around and gave Four a thumbs up. Reassured, the short boy released One, who spun around angrily and was about to give them a lecture when he realized where they were.

"Karaoke?" he asked, bewildered, at the brightly lit sign. Two brightened significantly; almost scarily.

"What's Karaoke?" Four asked. Two grabbed his arm and began leading him and one into the establishment, grinning madly.

"The greatest thing the Japanese ever made!" he gestured wildly. They entered a larger room, which looked much like a bar except better lit and less smoky. A blond girl was on the small stage, happily singing, while her group of friends cheered her on from a booth. With a final "Ohhh!" she bowed, and the stage grew vacant.

As Two quickly explained the fine art that was Karaoke to a skeptical Four, One spotted a bar set up against the far wall. He pulled out his new ID, running his fingers over the embossed edges. Really, his already inebriated mind reasoned, just because they'd been able to use it successfully in one place didn't mean that it worked everywhere. If they were going to distribute these, hadn't they better confirm that the cards worked everywhere?

"Numbuh Two, Numbuh Four, I think" One turned to start handing out orders, only to find the spot next to him to be empty. "Huh?" he asked, vaguely confused. Looking around, he saw Two, already climbing onto the stage. "Numbuh Two!" he called, before Four popped back up with a few bottles of beer and started dragging the Brit to a table.

"I wanna see this," the blond boy laughed, as Two retrieved a microphone and music started playing. Across the room, the girls started giggling and shouting encouragements at him, to which he responded with a wink. One popped open a bottle, shrugging. Let them have fun.

Two's singing was, surprisingly, not atrocious. When the song was over, he gave the girls a mocking bow and ambled off the stage cheerfully. Plopping down in their own booth, sending a distracted nod at a brunette humming the opening bars of "I Will Survive", Two grabbed a beer out of Four's hands and grinned at him cheekily, taking a deep drink.

"You next, little buddy?" Four wrinkled his nose at the taller boy, looking indignant.

"Course," he said, smugly. "And I bet you I can do it waaay better than you!"

"Nuh uh, no way," Two responded.

"Can too!" Four said loudly, starting to stand up in a confrontational manner. One reached out and grabbed his shoulder, dragging the Australian back into a sitting position. The blond boy just slumped down, seething. So when the brown haired girl finally finished, leaving the stage empty again, Four slid under the table with all the angry enthusiasm of his drunken, drunken self. His hoodie caught on the way, possibly on a nail but more likely on some used gum, and Four just shrugged out of it rather than dealing with fighting the mighty forces of the table. So when he ascended the stage, shirtless, buff and swaying slightly, it was accompanied by loud and enthusiastic wolf-whistles from the girl's table.

Four looked slightly confused by the attention, blushed a tiny bit, and proceeded to select an old Green Day song. The whistles and hollers increased when, to everyone's total shock, the boy could actually sing, and when the song was over there was a loud, "I want your body!" hanging in the air. Four gave them all a good leer and stomped off the stage, hitching up his baggy jeans and barely avoiding tripping on the way down.

A few songs by the girls (how many of them were crammed into that booth, anyways?) and more than a few drinks later, Two and Four were attempting to cleverly convince One into taking the stage.

"Aw, c'mon, One! It's fun!" Two had started giggling again.

"Yeah, do it!" Four had either forgotten about his shirt, still stuck to the table, or really couldn't be bothered – he wasn't quite sure which it was.

One shook his head and suddenly then grabbed the table, attempting to get the world to stop its horizontal movement. The other boys used this distraction to grab the bald boy's arms, dragging him out from the safety of the table and onto the stage. They were about to abandon him there when the group of girls apparently regained interest in the three cute boys.

"Duet!" one of the girls shouted, drunkenly. Another elbowed her, curly hair flying around.

"Threesome!" she corrected, with just as much gusto. Yet another girl broke in, laughing. "No, no, it's a Trio, dumb ass!" The second girl laughed too, shrugging. "Threesome anyways!" she yelled at them, happily.

Thankfully, Two and Four were too busy attempting to select a song and keep One on the stage to hear any of these suggestions. One gave up on escape and just plopped down on the stage, sitting on the edge. Four made a decision, growling and stabbing the selection buttons over Two's protests, and the music started.

"C'mon, Numbuh One," Two coaxed as Four pushed a microphone into the British boy's hand. One shook his head, but found himself standing between his teammates, mumbling the words appearing on the screen.

"I met a strange lady, she made me nervous," Four belted out, enthusiastically, and Two chimed in just as ardently. "She took me in and gave me breakfast!"

The girls shrieked excitedly as the boys broke into chorus.

"Do you come from a land down under!" even One started to relax, joining in hesitantly.

"Take off your clothes!" the blond from earlier stood up and shouted, her long hair flying. "Do a sexy dance!" Four, shirtless already, grinned and flexed his arms, posing. This attracted an additional round of yells from the girls.

"Strip!" With a leer that put his earlier one to shame, Four dropped the hand that had been hitching up his baggy jeans since earlier. The second verse was started with nothing but black cotton boxers. Two, laughing hysterically, stopped singing for a moment to fuss with the buttons to his khakis. Tripping slightly, he managed to kick off the pants just in time to shout "Vegemite Sandwich!" much too loudly with Four, pulling up his blue shorts just slightly.

One laughed at his teammates. Maybe this whole partying idea wasn't worthless. Maybe Two and Four and him could go out again, without it being a mission. Breaking from his quiet singing, he looked down. The blond and the short-haired brunette were standing at the edge of the stage, looking up at him with smirks.

"Oh! Do you come from a land down under? Oh yeah yeah!"

One blinked at them. They exchanged one look, and reached towards him.

"What's behind curtain number three?" The blond laughed, and suddenly they'd grabbed his shorts, pulling them down to his ankles.

As the song came to a stop, so did everything else in the room. Two and Four stared at him, Two barely keeping his laughter contained and Four with a look somewhere in-between awe and fear. Every single one of the girls looked stunned. One cleared his throat slightly, reaching down to yank his shorts back over his Rainbow Monkey briefs.

"This mission is over."


For the curious, Two's joke in its entirety.

A neutron walks into a restaurant to order dinner. His waiter is a proton. When the neutron asks for his check, the proton comes up and says, "For you, sir, there's no charge." The neutron, surprised, asks, "Are you sure?" and the proton says, "I'm positive."