"What is that godawful sound?!" Rude exclaimed as he entered the cockpit and took his co-pilot seat.
"What, you've never heard Asshole before?" Reno asked in surprise. "Man, what rock have you been living under?"
"One I'd like to get back to, so let's hurry up and get this mission over with please." Rude said testily.
"Let's blow this popsicle stand!" Reno blurted out as he took off unexpectedly, startling Rude.
"You are an asshole." Rude told him, and Reno just smiled complacently. Ever since that stupid high school mission two years ago, he felt a need to remind himself frequently that he was no longer that little zit-laden pipsqueak, so he listened to the song that started him on the path to who he was now.
Richard was glad his parents were out for the night, though they had been very vague about where they were going and just told him not to wait up for them. With nothing else to do, he turned on MTV, which he never dared watch when his parents were home. His couldn't stop himself from blushing as he listened to some guy swearing right there on the TV, and then he started paying more attention to the lyrics, and something clicked within him. Ever since he started all of a sudden getting taller and taller and his skin cleared up, outwardly he was different, but he didn't know what to do with himself…his cloak didn't fit him anymore, and sure the female students paid him more attention now, but he still didn't know how to approach them. Now here was some guy singing that he could have the surburbian dream his parents wanted for him and more "That's what I need to be, an asshole!" he exclaimed.
"Those are interesting…are they tattoos or birthmarks?" asked the attractive brunette sitting next to Reno and Rude at the bar.
"They're tattoos. One of a kind." Reno smiled charmingly at her. There was nothing he liked better after a successful mission than to down a few beers with Rude followed by casual and hopefully wild sex with some random woman he'd probably never see again, and the bad boy routine never failed except with the prudes he really didn't want anyway. "Few people can handle getting tattoos on their face." he said with pride.
"Ow ow ow!" Richard cried out. "Are you done yet?"
"I'm only tracing the design." the tattoo artist explained, trying to keep the disgust out of his voice at yet another wannabe tough guy who wimped out over a few needles. "You'll need to stay still when I'm actually doing the tattoo."
Richard bit his lip during the tattooing process and tried to remember why he was doing this…in his mind, being an asshole meant breaking the law, but there were no gangs in his nice middle-class neighborhood. So he decided to be like one of his favorite D&D characters, a mercenary. He'd be a lone wolf type until he got noticed. And bad guys always had tattoos, so here he was. "I'm awesome!" he exclaimed when it was finally over and he looked at himself in the mirror.
"Sure you are." the artist said sarcastically. "Here's a little pamphlet on proper care of your new tats, so don't come crying to me if they get infected. Now pay up!"
"If you can catch me!" Richard bolted for the door and as fast as he was, he would have made a clean getaway if another customer hadn't come in just then, and he ran into them and fell on his ass.
"You think you've got the cojones to try and skip out on me?" The artist angrily grabbed Richard and tossed him back into the chair, reaching into Richard's pocket for his wallet. "We no speak English?" Richard tried using the line he had seen the tougher kids use at high school when they got in trouble. "We'll see about that…well look at this…I think I'll call your parents." "Please don't." Richard pleaded as he paled. "Anything but that." "Too late, buddy." the artist picked up the phone. "Nice family by the way…is this Patrick Sinclair?"
Richard hung his head down, knowing he was in for it now, and it was even worse than he imagined. Both of his parents came down to the tattoo parlor, and his mother was nearly in tears over her precious little Dickie ruining his cute angelic face and then trying to run out on his bill. His father just had a set look of disappointment on his face, and wouldn't say anything to him, which was just as bad. He paid the tattoo artist, and then they drove Richard back home, and it felt like he was in the back of a cop car being sent to jail, and he just kept repeating his 'We no speak English' line.
"Why'd you do it, my baby?" his mother finally asked tearfully.
"Because I'm not a baby anymore, I'm a man!" Richard pouted. They finally pulled into their own driveway, but instead of being sent to his room, Richard was surprised when his father demanded he get in the front seat after his mother went inside to start dinner. "Where are we going?" Richard asked in surprise when his father drove off again.
"Well, We no, I think you and I need to have a father-son talk." he replied. "You're definitely growing up, literally as well, but there's some things I want you to understand about being a man."
Richard was only half-listening to his father, he was distracted by his own thoughts again. At first he was afraid this was going to be the sex talk, but when it became about 'being a man', Richard realized that was his next step into actually doing that, he needed to have sex!