Been having a bit of writer's block. And the surprise party went well. (: Hope you guys are still interested in the storyyyyyyy!

Guys, I cannot tell you how big my smile is when I read your reviews! It makes me so motivated, since this is my first ever fanfic! (: Keep 'em going! I love you guys~!

Disclaimer for the previous chapter: I don't own Simba, either. :p

Disclaimer: I don't own Tokio Hotel, but I FULLY own Bill's caffeine. (:

No, actually. Not really. I own nothing of Tokio Hotel. ):

x-x-x

Quick Recap:

Bill backed away a few steps. "You are on drugs," He whispered. "Oh my God!"

Tom punched his arm. "If anything, you're the one that's on drugs!"

Bill rubbed his arm and cringed. "That really hurt!" Bill whined. "I'm going to get Simba on you!" He poured himself another cup of coffee and stormed out of the room. "Gustav! Get your ass here right now!"

x-x-x

"Gustav!" Bill panted as he barged right into Gustav's hotel room.

Gustav looked up to the heavens in agony. "Whaaaaat nowww, Billll?"

"Give me your drumsticks," He demanded eagerly.

Gustav clutched his precious drumsticks to his chest. "No. Why?"

"In a drum kit, isn't there a set of drums called 'tom-toms'?" Bill asked excitedly.

"Yeah…why?" He asked, then saw the connection. "What are you going to do to Tom?"

"Nothing." Then he grabbed the drumsticks off Gustav while he was still pondering. "Sorry, Gustav! I'll give them back, I swear!" He said as he ran out of the room.

He rushed back to Tom's room and skidded to a stop at the door. He had an evil smile.

"Bill, I swear, you're the one on drugs," Tom sighed.

Bill ignored that. "Tom," He said slowly. "Did you know that in a drum kit, there's a set of tom-toms?"

"Wow." Tom said sarcastically, not feeling any amazement in that fact. "Wow, Bill. That's amazing." He said, and turned away.

Out of nowhere, Bill charged at Tom with the drumsticks high in the air like a threat. "Tooooooooom~! Tom-Tom~! Tommy little Tom-Tom~!" He sang as he bashed Tom with the drumsticks on his back and his shoulders and his stomach.

"BILL! GET OFF ME, YOU CAFFEINE-CRAZED-MENTALLY-PSYCHOPATHIC-NO-BRAIN-LITTLE-SCHIZOPHRENIC-CHILDISH-SPERM!"

Bill stopped and looked at Tom with the weirdest expression. "Sperm?" He asked. "Why am I sperm? I understand all the rest, but…sperm? What the hell?"

Tom shrugged. "I was thinking of too many insults at the same time…"

Bill shook the awkward thought out of his head and continued bashing the bejeezus out of Tom.

"OH GOD! OH GOD, HELP ME!" Tom exclaimed.

"Tom-t-t-tom-t-tom-t-tom-tom~!" Bill bashed a catchy beat onto Tom's stomach.

"OH, THE PAIN! BILL, GET OFF ME! I SWEAR, I REALLY WILL RUN YOU OVER WITH THE DAMN TOUR BUS!"

"You won't get a chance to drive it anyway!" He continued his little beat.

"THEN SAY GOODBYE TO THE ALMIGHTY MAYBELLINE WATERPROOF EYELINER." Tom threatened him.

Bill stopped. "You have no idea how many I have of them."

"So what? Eventually, I'll find them all."

"Try me." Bill smirked.

Tom jumped off the bed and stormed into Bill's room angrily, looking for the dressing table. Bill followed close behind.

There were a few black eyeliner pencils out on the table. Tom grabbed them.

He opened the top drawer. There was a whole black pencil case full of black eyeliner and eye pencils. He grabbed that and stuffed it in his pocket.

He looked in each drawer, always finding at least one, always grabbing them and putting them in his baggy pockets.

He went to the double mirrored cupboards, found some on each shelf and each drawer. Checked the pockets of some of Bill's hanging jeans. Some in there, too. "God, Bill." He looked at Bill in amazement. "I never thought you'd bring a life supply everywhere."

"For emergencies." Bill replied smoothly.

Tom filled his pockets with eyeliner until there was no more room. "That should be all of them, then. I can't imagine you'd possibly have anymore."

Bill smiled. He pulled one out of his own pocket.

But Tom snatched that one off him.

Bill was still smiling. He pulled one out of his hair.

Tom gave him a what-the-hell­­ expression. "WHAT THE HELL?!" He yelled, and snatched that off him, too.

"Extra storage." Bill tapped his de-fluffed, soggy hairdo. It took him a while to realize that that was his last one. "Oh, damn!" He exhaled in frustration. He looked around for something to do, then gave one big whack on Tom's shoulder with Gustav's drumsticks.

Crack.

There was a huge crack right down the middle of the drumstick. They both stared at it in horror as it broke off and fell to the floor.

x-x-x

HAHA (: R&R! I was going to make this a long chapter, but decided I wanted a bit of a cliffy in here. *wicked smile* And so I cut off the other half of the chapter to put in the next chapter. By the way, the next chapter might be really long. (Haven't finished it yet.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Maybelline make-up. ;p