Sorry for not updating for a while! Kinda just started school again… :/ Anyway, I warn you that I might be just as slow at updating since I have stuff to do now…
Also, I have to apologize to Crazy German Girl! I've just read a chapter of one of her fanfics called, "Tokio Hotel Prank Wars" and realized that mine was similar to hers. I understand that her story was published before mine, and I had no intention of stealing her idea! I hadn't actually read it until right about now. So all I'm saying is that she had the original idea, not me, as far as I know! (: APOLOGIES!!!!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Tokio Hotel or anything that I mention in this story that is already obviously owned. But I own the ownage of owning the sentence of which is somehow owned by the ownaged way of saying owned. Oh burn. HAHA OKAY WTF that didn't even make sense…?
ON WITH THE STORY! D:

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Quick Recap:

Tom could not contain his smile, knowing what he was really going to buy.

Bill looked at Tom's locked door and a tortured look appeared on his face.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~! MY COFFEEEEEEEE!" He bawled against the door. "WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE???!!!"

x-x-x

Tom was at the pharmacy, browsing the aisles. He had his sunglasses on and a big, puffy jacket; his poor disguise. He looked shifty and nervous as he checked medicine labels and such.

The young lady at one of the counters looked over at him suspiciously, eyeing his puffy jacket for anything suspiciously box-shaped underneath. She slowly walked up to him. "How may I help you, sir?" She asked in a small voice.

Tom looked around nervously and leaned into her ear, ignoring the slight flinch she made. He whispered what he needed to the lady.

She looked him up and down uncertainly. "Are you having problems releasing it?"

"No!" Tom whispered in a not so quiet voice.

The woman stared for a moment, and then shook her head. "They're down at that aisle on the very last shelf," she pointed to the corner shelf of the store. "There are lots of different types and brands. But the flavored ones don't work very well. They're more expensive anyway."

She left Tom to his business as he picked at the packets on the shelf. He picked one without flavor with a high price to ensure it was effective. He went up to the lady on the counter and purchased it.

The lady paused for a moment, eyeing his jacket again. "I'm sorry, sir…I'll have to check your jacket…" Her cheeks went bright pink.

Tom was unhappy. "Just because I'm wearing a puffy jacket doesn't mean I'm shoplifting!" He held his arms protectively around the front of his body. He snatched his sunglasses off his face in anger to look at the lady in the eye. "It's because I have dreadlocks, isn't it?!" He glowered.

Her eyes widened and suddenly her voice was all high-pitched and quirky. She squealed. "OH MY GOD, TOM!" She fanned herself with her manicured fingers.

"Oh my God." Tom mumbled to himself.

"TOM, IT IS THE RULES OF THE STORE THAT YOU HAVE TO SIGN THIS RECEIPT, OR I CAN'T LET YOU GO!" She held the receipt in his face. "NEVER EVER LET YOU GO! NEVER!" She laughed like a maniac.

Tom turned on his heel and made a run for it.

"OR I'LL TELL EVERYONE ABOUT WHAT YOU'D JUST BOUGHT!" She laughed hysterically again.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel…

Bill paced up and down the hallway, planning Tom's next humiliation.

Georg appeared up the hallway with a sulky Gustav slumping behind. He stopped and looked at Bill. "God, you're still here? We have to get to the stage in a few hours, you know,"

Bill ignored him. "Do you know how I can get into Tom's room?"

Georg shrugged. "You could get the guy with all the keys to open it up; I think…if you have a good reason to open it,"

Bill rubbed his hands together. "Oh, but I do…" He smiled.

Georg furrowed his eyebrow. "Okay…?"

Gustav spoke up. "Aren't these just the ugliest drumsticks in the world?" He looked down sadly at the new ones the crew members gave him.

"They look the same as your old ones," Bill waved the subject off with his hand.

"I will bash your head in with these, I swear!" Gustav held up the drumsticks in warning.

Bill snorted. "Yeah, and it'll be all over the news…"

Georg gestured along an imaginary news headline. "Drummer Boy Wipes out Simba's Best Friend," He snorted.

No one laughed.

"Tom's non-existent sense of humor is rubbing off on me."

"You know, there's this girl on the second floor selling Tokio Hotel merchandise…mostly shirts," Gustav sighed. "Mostly stuff about you," He snickered disapprovingly.

"GOD OH GOD OH GOD!!!" They heard Tom yell at the top of his lungs from down the hallway. Tom stopped running as soon as he saw them all standing by his door. He cleared his throat and walked casually, even though he was desperately panting for air. "I'm going to…take…a shower," he panted, walking into his room.

Tom didn't even seem to notice the little pink sparkle of a gift jammed in his door that wasn't completely shut. Being unaware, he smiled and headed over to the bathroom with Bill's coffee mug in hand.

Georg and Gustav wandered off to their own rooms while Bill waited outside of Tom's door. He waited until he heard the shower running. When he was sure that Tom was in the middle of his shower, Bill crept into Tom's room and grabbed his entire suitcase of shirts, giggling and snorting while he dragged the suitcase to his own room, locking the door behind him.

He looked around expectantly, looking for something to do with the shirts. Then, an idea popped into his head. He grabbed all sorts of clothing, covering his entire body, and ran to the elevator, pressing 'level two'."

When he arrived on level two, he spotted the little stall of Tokio Hotel merchandise that Gustav had mentioned before. He walked to the stall, reading the phrases on the shirts. Gustav was right; it was mostly about Bill.

Bill is sexy, one of them said. Bill is my husband; he just doesn't know it!, another one said. Bill furrowed his eyebrow at that one. FREE HUGS! Bill, I'm waiting…

Bill took out his wallet and bought all of the shirts that said 'Bill is sexy', and a few of the other ones. He bought enough to fill a suitcase. All the shirts were sizes that only Bill would wear.

"Going to their concert tonight?" The teenage girl at the stall asked.

Bill stuttered. "Y-yeah…I'm going to the concert…" He cleared his throat.

"I made all these shirts," she said proudly. "This one," she held up the one that said 'Bill is my husband; he just doesn't know it!' "Is my personal favorite. Because he is my husband!"

Bill cleared his throat again.

"I even bought a ring! Look!" She held her hand out for him to see. On her ring finger was a stubby ring with the Tokio Hotel logo on the front. "I got one for him, too. I'm going to give it to him at the concert tonight. I don't have V.I.P access, though…"

"So, uh…how will you give him the ring?"

"I'll have to throw it at him while he's on stage." She stated in a matter-of-fact sort of tone. "Along with a few glowsticks, too…Wouldn't it be so amazing to have touched the same glowstick as Bill?" She said in a dreamy voice.

"I'm going to go now…" Bill said quickly.

The girl gasped and grabbed his arm. "My God! You've got your nails done like his! How did you do it? Every time I try to do it, it looks ugly!"

"I-I got it done professionally…" He trailed off. The girl wasn't even listening. She was trying to stare through his sunglasses.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors? My, my! You look so similar to Bill; it's amazing…Even with all that stuff on…"

Bill laughed nervously. "Y-yeah, people say that a lot. I really have to go now." He spoke quickly, walking away.

"Wear those shirts at the concert!" She called after him. "I want Bill to see my work of art!"

When Bill reached his room, he emptied Tom's suitcase and stuffed in all the shirts he'd bought. He sealed it shut and smirked to himself.

He dragged the suitcase back to Tom's room and ran away.

In Tom's bathroom, Tom was sitting on the closed toilet seat, with Bill's coffee sitting on the sink, with a packet of laxatives. He had the shower running to fool Bill.

The instructions on the box told Tom to put small amounts of the laxatives at a time, so as not to overdo it. He ignored that, and poured half the packet into Bill's warm coffee, and stirred it around. He felt so awesomely evil that he got eager and stirred it faster. Cause that's so evil. Some of the coffee fell over the brim and spilt onto his shirt. He shrieked a little, out of his evil-mode, and took his shirt off to fill with water in the sink.

He turned the shower off and left the bathroom, placing Bill's coffee mug back in its place.

"I win." He said aloud, as he walked over to his suitcase to get a fresh shirt.

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Apologies, guys! I have major writer's block at the moment, and I actually ran out of coffee! (Which was my motivation in writing this story, haha!) I didn't have enough of an overload of caffeine to make this as funny as the first chapter! AGGGGHHHHH!

But I must say…THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR GETTING THIS STORY OVER 350 HITS!!!!!!! *Cheek-hurting-grin* Fave it! Alert it! Review it! Love it! YAY! (: