Alfred was a big fan of things that happen in the middle of the night. He basked in the glory of his Shakespearean dress, his plastic skull, a bucket of small pebbles, a Michael Bublé CD, and Liberty. All of the former were in the back seat of the latter. Except the first, which he was wearing.

"It's go time." He told himself. Alfred had an over-serious expression and drove off as quietly as possible.

He stopped in front of the one place at which he knew he had to be one last time. The blond took out the bucket of pebbles and crept over to a spot below a window. He threw one, and then another.

The window opened as he threw the third. Yong Soo Im got hit in the face with a pebble.

"Alfred?" The Korean whisper-shouted.

"Alas poor Yong Soo!" Alfred also whisper-shouted, "come with me!"

The Korean paused.

"Alfred you are fucking brilliant. Catch me."

Without much warning, he jumped. Alfred put his hands out and flinched. With a collective "OOF" they both toppled to the ground.

"Quick!" More whisper shouting from Yong Soo, "I don't want my parents to wake up and catch me!"

"Why are you coming with me so readily?" asked Alfred.

"The author thought it would be weird if I refused."

The two hopped in car, and sped off as quietly as possible (which was actually rather loud). They made a stop at the convenience store, which was somehow still open at two in the morning.

As they walked in, Alfred had to ask, "What were you doing up at two a.m.?"

"StarCraft."

"That makes so much sense."

Bjorn was asleep at the counter. The boys scattered about the tiny aisles, grabbing chips and fruit bars and even more peanut butter, and all that good shit. Alfred tapped on the sleepy Norwegian's shoulder; he awoke startled, shouting, "Faen!"

Bjorn stared lazily at the teens. "Well, well, if it isn't the talk of the town, the homosexual Rom and Jul. That's not very kosher; I might need to say something to Grandma Im…"

"I'll let you date my sister." Yong Soo bargained as he set the spam and dim sum up on the counter.

"Deal. That'll be eighteen-forty-two."

"Thanks for not being a squealing bastard, Mr. Eriksson." Alfred's grin ate so much shit at that moment.

They walked out, put the stuff that will most likely never be of use other than to be eaten and therefore give continuous but probably not very healthy support for their adolescent lives in the backseat, and drove off nondescriptly into the night.

Super Korean Brain Journal 7-18-2005

HOLY SHIT BALLS ON TOAST. Just ;dsjfa;lkfdshflkahjaufdiowuqrladsgkl. I am so on edge right now. My adrenaline is pumping and it is making me really anxious right now and my testosterone is pumping and it's making me a sweaty teenage sex god right now. I am doing everything right now. I live in the moment right now. My parents are probably awake and pissed off right now. Alfred is driving and he's sexy as hell right now. I did not just have really gay thoughts right now. I should stop saying that right now.

I am kind of horny and this plan is so brilliant though why the fuck is he wearing a dress. And it doesn't even flatter his figure! It's some frumpy old Shakey-spearey ditty and it just accentuates all the wrong places UGH. I think I could kiss him right now, but that would probably obstruct his view and damage his driving.

You know, giving him oral wouldn't obstruct his view, but you need to think to drive and Mei says that all men think with their penises and sucking him off would require his penis which would obstruct his thinking, and that would be almost as bad as texting while driving.

Wait a sec, why do I know about gay sex anyways? I am a virgin and also pretty sure I am straight, although if I am I probably wouldn't be having thoughts about giving another man a blowjob and I just noticed that there are a lot of synonyms for giving someone head.

Oh yeah, gay sex originated in Korea so of course I know, DUH.

Before the Korean himself knew it, he was asleep in the passenger seat of a noisy Camaro, being driven out of the city by a sleepy America. Yong Soo didn't ask what he had wanted to really ask, which was, of course, "Where the fuck are we going?" Though, wherever Alfred was taking him, he wouldn't really mind as long as they were together.

(The two boys had been inseparable since that fateful day in the First Grade. Yong Soo's favorite color at the time had been green, and he had used his green crayons so often that they were nothing by Thanksgiving Break. One cold December day, his toothless, spectacled classmate Alfred had offered him that one darker green crayon to color his dragon. (We're talking Crayola here people. Crayola Roseart. Everyone knows that.) Yong Soo had asked why Alfred did such a cool nice thing, and the blond had replied, "Because dragons look best green!")

It was odd for people to smile in their sleep, but Yong Soo must have been dreaming of the everlasting friendship that had begun from the agreement that dragons look better green.

The night was dark and muggy. The Camaro drove along the nearly deserted highway with ease, the only traffic being a sixteen-wheeler going the opposite way that passed minutes upon seconds ago. The drowsy driver took another sip of his energy drink. The hills and valleys rolled out in all directions, but the scenery was nothing but tumbleweeds, vineyards and darkness at this point. Alfred noticed a streetlight that must have gone out. He wondered why. He wondered how. Within minutes he thought up a summary that involved zombie mermaids, Russian boatmen and a singing puffin. Then and there he decided that that the people who make energy drinks use acid in it or something.

Then, the sooper-dooper cool dude in the driver's seat wondered the same thing that the Korean had wanted to ask before he fell asleep. "Where the fuck are we going?"

He stopped at a Deus ex Machina rest stop and took out Yong Soo's Deus Ex Machina computer, which the Korean never left home without so it made perfect sense that he had it even though the author didn't bother mentioning it.

He typed into the search bar, "where the fuck can you get gay married at 16?" The computer illuminated his face like a UFO landing in a cornfield in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas.

He took another swig of the energy drink. His thoughts went on acid trip again. He thought of British lolitas with Jedward hair.

He left the car into a really unpleasantly humid night, and looked at the conveniently-placed map. The little YOU ARE HERE on the sign indicated that Alfred stood pretty close to the border of Arizona.

"Welp, no point in going back to sleep now," he told himself, looking at the green 5:45 on the radio's display-thingy. He opened Yong Soo's laptop again, going straight to his favorite widely-known popular amateur video hosting site to look up funny cats.

Chapter 6 like 98.999%? I dunno. I think it's done. Hm. I think chapter seven is an interlude. Also this is a lot more cracky than I originally imagined. I don't know how to dramu.