DM666:Here chappie three though it happier than chappie two it no beat chappie four.

Thanks for review Starlight Phoenix

And now happy chappie three (though it not so happy as happy chappie four)!

CyRS: Hi! And thanks to all reviewers! And I think DM's hyper:D And I guess we return to…cheeriness! No, I won't stop preaching cheeriness; if you don't like it, you best scurry off. To the disclaimer we go!

DISCLAIMER: DM666 and CyborgRockStar do not own Beyblade or its characters or its beyblades or its plot or its pretty pictures or its owner, Aoki Takao. We're not in favor of slavery, people. And note, we do not profit from this work of fanfiction—it's just the two of us consolidating our strange little mind-thoughts together into a great big glob of humor. Or what we hope is humor to you as it is such to us. Enjoy.

Chapter Three:

The Demolition Boys were quickly ushered away from the van they had just ridden in into an airport. (They all looked a little colorless—even Bryan was visibly paler ((is that possible?)) for they had just survived a very…interesting car ride:

FLASHBACK!

A random person randomly spawned from Satan's "relations" with a prostitute was driving along through the cities of Russia…the sidewalks, more precisely. As the innocent masses screamed and dodged and the like, Satan's Spawn laughed…maniacally, of course. Meanwhile, the D Boys, seated behind him and Policeman1 (if you recall him from the previous chappie) appeared rather…startled.

Well, okay, Bryan was laughing maniacally at all the screaming, frantic people on the sidewalks, Spencer was hurling out the window, Ian was curled on the floor in fear, and Tala was shaking uncontrollably, whispering, "The end is near. The end is near."

This went on for quite some time, until the van reached the airport and met with an obstacle—the doors to the lobby, more precisely. After a few crashes here, a few screams there, and a lot of broken glass everywhere, Policeman1 dragged the DBoys from the car, all of them appearing a little shell-shocked, though hints of a smirk remained on Bryan's face.

Satan's Spawn called after them in sing-song tones, "Have a nice da-ay!"

END FLASHBACK!

Anywhozlls, I venture a gander that after all that ugliness, things are going to get better, right? So cheeriness returns! Ha, it's like a contagious disease, huh?

Carrying on:

The DBoys procured their airplane tickets for an eight hour flight to Kansas leaving in forty minutes. They waited the time away under police surveillance in the gift shop, which was rather an uneventful segment of the story—unless you count the useful little tidbit of time in which Bryan stole money from a seven-year-old. (Unfortunately, Bryan's plans went a tad awry as he counted his new fistful of coins—the little kid began screaming at the top of his lungs that Bryan was molesting him. After an angry mother smacked Bryan with her purse—which, while he cursed, Bryan claimed was filled with rocks—the DBoys were herded away from the shop, with protests from Ian as he stared longingly at the Beanie Baby™ stuffed animals lining the shelves.)

Soon—the Demolition Boys were off! Only, what would happen, of course—a problem was revealed! Huh, perhaps the story isn't getting so cheery…. Alas, I suppose it needs problems to live…but…. (wistful sigh)

"Uh-oh," Bryan uttered, gazing at his teammates.

"What now?" murmured Tala exasperatedly. "Forget to give the little kid back his money?"

"Yeah, but that's not the uh-oh."

"Well, spit it out," demanded Ian, sorrow in his voice as he remembered nostalgically that very cute pink flamingo Beanie Baby™.

"Does anyone here speak American?"

Obviously that got some raised eyebrows and working brains.

Ian piped up softly, "Don't they speak English?"

"No, that's the English," Bryan dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"Well then what do the rest of the people in Britain speak?" Ian countered.

"British, duh. That's their common language for the country."

"Are you sure they even speak American over there? Maybe they speak Americanese or something," cut in Tala, looking about for support, even at the random passengers seated nearby.

"Nah, the Mexicans speak Mexican and the Canadians speak Canadian so Americans speak American," asserted Bryan matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure the Canadians speak French and English and I know the Mexicans speak Spanish…," persisted Ian, watching a little girl fondle her newly-purchased Beanie Baby™.

"Well we're not visiting either country so keep to the subject," Bryan muttered, crossing his arms.

"It's a matter of pride. Each country has its own language. Germany and German, Norway and Norwegian, France and French, Wales and Whale…," listed Tala.

"Humpback or Orca?" questioned Bryan.

"Ha ha." Bryan cocked an eyebrow—what was with that sarcastic laugh? He was dead serious with that question….

"Seriously I'm sure they speak English," insisted Ian, tearing his eyes from the little girl.

"Shut up, moron, I know what I'm talkin' about. My cousin sent me a video from America once and they spoke all kinds of stuff I didn't understand, like "for shizel" and "da za coolzt". It was frightening to me," whispered Bryan, looking at the floor with a shudder.

"The moon looks pretty," said Spencer, in daylight.

"Maybe we can take lessons?" suggested Tala.

"How? We don't even know how to ask for them," remarked Bryan.

"…"

"No worries," Ian said. "I heard there are rednecks out in Kansas. I have a Redneck Dictionary from my cousin. Written by someone called Jeff Foxworthy…" (A/N: Oh yeah, we don't own Jeff and his dictionary either, so don't stab us with your sporks…)

"Let's just get some sleep before we land. If we still have problems then we'll ask a stewardess," Tala stated, as though that ended the matter.

"Yes, ma'am. But we all have life-scarring mental problems that I doubt a stewardess can help with so we might as well hope she can help in other ways," muttered Bryan reluctantly.

"Just go to sleep!"

And so, the DBoys flew on through the sky, the sleeping undisturbed by the rough turbulence so similar to the electric chairs they had lived through, their problems unresolved. Ah, now that's a cheery scene….

End…

DM666:Hope you like happy chappie three! Hope you will like happy chappie four! Hope we gets lotsa reviews!

CyRS: I think the hippy-happy-hoppiness of the chapter made him all the more hyper. Maybe he'll go into supreme hyper-drive if you submit us some reviews! And OH YES, before I forget! hands out a bunch of documents For chappie two reviewers, PORCUPINE WORLD DOMINATION CONTRACTS! Except Starry, hun, you're already a member. XP Have a wondrously-fantabulous day, everyone! 'Til next time!