Author's notes:

All reviewers: Thanks for reviewing!

BobbyD: Actually, the girl wasn't going to be a main part of this…But now you've given me ideas. Mwahahaha!

Well, Bobby's nice, but I picture him as being more of an obnoxious boy usually. (Although the movies ignore that part of him.)

Btw, you convinced me to write a sequel to Why Backups Are Good Things.


An hour later toaster, microwaves, battery chargers, and other small electronics were all plugged in next to all the smoke detectors on the west side of the mansion, opposite the two pranksters' room. The said pranksters were in a nearby computer room, John on the 'Net and Bobby reviewing the email correspondences between himself and his date.

"She has brown hair, a bit past her shoulders, brown eyes, average height. Nothing particularly special, but that's okay."

John sighed. All he wanted to do was search for cheat codes for his Final Fantasy game. Was a bit of silence really so much to ask? The Popsicle had been chattering away about this girl nonstop since they'd gotten here.

"She's a single child, and—"

John glanced over to Bobby, who's mouth was still open although he had stopped talking.

"Oh, no," Bobby whispered, obviously horrified. "Look."

Pyro sighed again and looked over Bobby's shoulder. "What is it?" he demanded irritably.

Bobby pointed to the screen where a copy of one of his sent emails was up. John read the line he was pointing to and groaned. "I have light, short curly hair and a three-inch beard." John thwaped his friend on the head. "You idiot. Why would you tell her you have a beard? You'll have to have shaved, then."

"No, I can't." Bobby seemed in a state of shock. "Look at her response. 'You, a beard? I have to see that. Promise you'll keep it until we meet.' And I promised. She'll have a fit if I say I did shave it."

"This is way too much trouble. Say you shaved the stupid thing and get on with you life already!"

"No. I've got to grow a beard."

John exploded. "You think you can grow a beard in four hours?" he yelled.

"John." Hank, supervising the computers, shot him a stern look. "Please refrain from shouting."

In a much quieter, but not at all less passionate voice, John continued. "Has your one brain cell died? How on earth do you plan to grow a beard in a couple of hours? What are you going to do, glue hair on your face?"

"I guess so," Bobby moaned. "Unless you can think of anything better. Where can I get the hair?"

"I didn't mean," John sputtered. "Oh, never mind, you're hopeless. I'll help cover for you when you leave, but other than that you're on your own." He stalked out of the room, leaving Bobby starting after him.