Spar Spangled Drunkenness

Author's notes:

This fic will probably make more sense if you have seen the Misfits' "Star Spangled Fantasy" video which is featured in the episode "The Presidential Dilemma".

Rated PG-13 for profanity. Thank you, Denisia for beta-testing this, um, masterpiece.

Oh, and please go easy on me – I don't often write humor fic.

Pizzazz reached for her fourth Midori. The alcoholic drink no longer burned her throat and she didn't notice that her head was spinning. Roxy and Jetta sat at her sides in the backstage room, downing their favorite brands of beer and munching on the last of the junk food. The fans had all been ushered away for the night; the bus driver waited in the parking lot hoping to be able to take the rowdy band back to the hotel before 3 a.m.

"Pizzazz," Stormer began, entering the backstage party room and clearly sober, "We gotta get back to Eric with ideas for our next video." Her whiny voice sounded like nails on the chalkboard to the diva. "You know that he said he's gonna let the director decide everything if we don't fax him something by the end of the week. And you know that you hate doing what the director wants!"

"Yeah, yeah," Pizzazz muttered. Why was it that the soft-hearted wimp was always right about things?

"So what do you wanna do in the video?" Stormer persisted, thrusting a notebook and pen at Pizzazz.

"Let's cue the song up for some inspiration!" Jetta suggested, standing up. She wobbled a bit, having downed countless Carlsburgs, before reaching the tape player and rewinding it until the song was ready.

Pizzazz leaned back and listened to her brilliant voice. Ah! Pure perfection. A voice that all other singers must envy.

Roxy eyed the awe-struck look on Pizzazz's face and rolled her eyes. She reached for another swig of her MGD, uncertain whether this was her eighth or ninth.

"A conga line," Pizzazz breathed. "Yes! We need a conga line in the video!"

Roxy spat out her drink. "Are you cracked!"

"I think it's a corker of an idea!" Jetta enthused.

Roxy rolled her eyes again. That Brit was such a suck-up.

Pizzazz, although also shaky on her feet, was already standing up and arranging her bandmates into a conga line. "See, it'll work great! We can go up and down in sequence, like two of us will go up, the other two duck down. Then we reverse it, moving forwards the whole time."

"No more booze for you tonight, Pizzazz," Stormer stately flatly, a horrified look on her face.

"And there's more we can do!" Pizzazz continued. "It's a patriotic song and I think we oughtta get into that. So I'm gonna dress up like George Washington (I've always wanted to do drag) and the three of you will row me across the shore in a boat."

As Jetta nodded encouragement, Roxy keeled over in laughter. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"What about using one of your national monuments too," Jetta suggested. "What's that tall one called? The Washington Monument? We can do a mount on the very top of it!"

"Uh…." Stormer began.

"Yes!" Pizzazz agreed.

"I wanna be on top, okay?" Jetta added.

"And you guys'll hold firecrackers during it!" Pizzazz commanded.

Roxy continued to howl her laughter. "Yeah, yeah, real great idea! Maybe we can do more with the fireworks theme. We can ride around on huge, over-sized fireworks. Maybe we can even crash on a few. That'll really show how patriotic we are!"

Roxy's sarcasm was lost on Pizzazz. "I like it! We can either straddle the fireworks or tether two of them together, standing on top of them," Pizzazz said.

"Maybe we should let the director decide what to do instead," Stormer made a last-ditch desperate plea.

"Forget it, Stormer! Pizzazz's ideas are aces!" Jetta declared.

Stormer looked imploringly at Roxy but the guitarist was too smashed and bowled over with laughter to come to her aid. Pizzazz looked pleased and confident.

'Maybe when she's completely hung-over tomorrow she won't remember a thing,' Stormer thought. Her hopes went down the drain when she saw Pizzazz madly scribbling the ideas onto the notepad, saying, "This'll get Eric off our asses! He wants ideas, we got 'em!"

'Idiot…why did I have to bring the notepad?' Stormer berated herself.

THE END