Happy Glee Day, everyone! Let's celebrate with some completely nonsensical and ridiculous Fuickleberry! I was such a good girl tonight and completely did not go to the Puck/Rachel drabble meme first. Tomorrow I'll definitely indulge though. Here's the latest chapter of...
Fuickleberry Saves the World: The Dramatic and Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford!
Chapter Twelve
***July 2010***
"All right. The girls are good. You know what to do ?"
"F. Hud. Elmer Fudd. Monkey dud."
Puck rolled his eyes so hard he swore they were going to come out of their sockets. He leveled a glare of death at the boy he had considered his best dude since the age of eleven. He gripped Finn's shoulder as hard as he could and jerked the lanky boy's body back and forth.
"Woah…roller coaster. Soil Toaster. Monkey…uh…dud."
"There are times when I think you should totally be in the special school. Right now? I think you'd flunk out of the special school," Puck hissed. "Go into the store, take this list, and smile."
"Got it. Snot lit. Monkey -"
"Dud," Puck supplied helpfully.
"Monkey dud," Finn nodded. He looked at the list curiously and then back to Puck before wondering, "I have like-no money."
"Just smile," Puck promised. He pushed Finn in the direction of the store and turned on his heel, rushing towards the side of the road, hiding carefully and waiting. He watched as Finn meandered his way into the store, still stoned out of his mind. Plus he was Finn. Puck was absolutely certain that the kid would forget what had been going down since they left Lima as soon as he saw the cereal section of the little store. He was certain that Finn would be on a serious mission to find the Trix Bunny for at least ten minutes before someone thought he was an escapee from the local mental institution.
It just might work out. He looked to the car dealership and saw Rachel and Quinn walking out of the small office, hand in hand. They were throwing simpering, fluttering looks as the young car salesman in his mid-twenties fumbled with far too many keys. Yeah. This was going to work. He smirked and muttered to himself,
"Show time."
***Lima***
"Uhm, Artie? Tina?"
"We know, Mr. Schue," Tina sighed dramatically. "Or at least, Iknow. Mr. Latina Lover over there might be too busy going through Santana's terrible and slutty text messages to be too worried about this."
"Girl, I told you stop trippin'," Artie shrugged his shoulders in a quick, short burst of irritation.
"Mr. Schue? Can you please tell Artie that if he doesn't stop calling me girl, I'm going to remove all of the screws from his chair," Tina hissed lowly, her eyes into slits as she glared at her boyfriend.
"Uhm-" Mr. Schue hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
"And also, let him know that he is white. No amount of hardship can make it okay for him to talk like he just stepped off the set of The Barbershop," Tina mocked her boyfriend ruthlessly. "As a fierce Asian woman, I have way more street cred than he does."
"Girl, please," Artie muttered. His eyes widened as Tina rose from the chair she had been sulking in for hours with a stealth that made her seriously think she did descend from Bruce Lee, no matter how racist that sounded. He squeaked in anticipation and said, "Baby girl, I thought you dug the swagger…"
"I'm going to give you swagger you man-whore!" Tina scoffed at him as Schue reluctantly placed himself between them less Tina finish the job the car accident had started on Artie.
"Guys, GUYS!" Schue screamed. "What is going on with you two? When we left out of school, everything was fine!"
"Well then ten members of the Glee club disappeared into thin air, and I've been stuck with his misogynistic and racist ass. Which is usually fine, cause I love him like that, but Santana has been calling EVERY three hours!" Tina screeched. "I'm so sick of Shakira that I really think I'm going to shove Artie's cell phone somewhere he CAN'T FEEL IT!"
"Uhm…is Shakira a nickname for Santana?" Schue wondered reluctantly. He had the distinct feeling that not only was this whole interaction inappropriate, but also completely not something he would want to get involved with if it were his adult friends.
"No, it's her ringtone. Do you have any idea, Mr. Schue, just how completely humiliating it is to know that your boyfriend has Santana Lopez's digits? And has Hips Don't Lie as her ring tone? And can you imaging hearing that ringtone every three hours since the second day of our summer break?" Tina demanded irately. "I'm going to kill him!"
There was one moment of silence before the pit of hell opened up beneath all three of them and suddenly the sound that Tina most definitely didn't want to hear at that very moment cut through the air.
You know my hips don't lie, And I'm starting to feel it's right
All the attraction, the tension - don't you see baby this is perfection.
***Not Lima***
"Uhm hello? Why did the phone have to ring three times before you answered?" Santana screeched into the phone. "I thought I told you, Wheelie, that if I wasn't the most important person to ever be put into your cellie, that I would tell Tina everything."
"Santana! This is Mr. Schue!"
Santana blew out an exasperated breath and looked around the hotel room that she, Brittany, Matt and Mike had settled into less than an hour ago. She squinted and listened to the background ruckus on Schue's end and smirked when she heard Artie shriek in terror and pain as Tina cursed him out in Chinese.
"Can you tell the dragon lady to lay off of Artie for a second? We have some important things to talk about," Santana demanded, trying in vain to not sound completely irate in her request. "Put me on speakerphone, Mr. Schue…"
Santana did the same with her cell phone and waited a second before screaming, "LOSERS! Pay attention. You idiots are useless, I mean seriously. I never thought I'd meet three people who are like, the very definition of mercy flush before-"
"SANTANA!" Schue said reproachfully. "That's hardly an appropriate way to talk to your friends. Or me. I think I need to remind you that I'm your teacher."
"It's summer, Schue. Relax," Santana rolled her eyes. "Have you guys found Rachel yet?"
"Found Rachel?" Mike questioned. "Where could Rachel be?"
"We don't know, that's kind of the point," Brittany looked at Mike curiously, wondering how he could be thinking so densely. "They were supposed to follow us when we kidnapped you. But they didn't. And now no one knows where they are. I think they probably went to the Crayola factory."
"Crayola factory?" Schue questioned, mistakenly taking Brittany's theories as fact. "Why would they go there, Brittany?"
"It's the happiest and most colorful place on Earth, Mr. Schue. It's where the rainbow lives," Brittany explained, the hint of condescension in her voice. "That's where I would be if Santana hadn't made summer plans."
"What are your summer plans, Whore-pez, you know, besides making my summer freaking miserable?" Tina grumbled.
"Woah there Margaret Cho, ease up," Santana hissed. "Just because your boy has a thing for THIS bossy mug of hotness, doesn't mean you can get your bitch on to get him to keep paying attention to you."
"Santana, you really aren't making things better," Artie squeaked, looking at Tina in extreme fear and anxiety.
"Hold on, so-Rachel and the others were supposed to follow us?" Matt questioned, clearly in the dark with Mike on the situation involving their friends. "So why weren't they laughing and pointing at me when you pantsed me in front of Lucas Oil Stadium?"
"Lucas Oil Stadium…where you guys visiting Peyton Manning?" Tina furrowed her brow.
"So hot that you know where Peyton plays babygirl," Artie whispered.
"Shut your face, Artie!" Tina screamed.
"We were auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance," Matt quickly explained, not really wanting to go into the fact that Santana had made him beat box with his pants around his ankles in front of the huge crowd that had lined up to audition.
"Did you make it?" Schue wondered, his voice slightly terrified. If he lost the four of them to a reality show and Puck, Rachel, Finn and Quinn to …wherever they were, he was seriously screwed for Glee club.
"Nope, Brit-brit got really far though," Santana said proudly.
"They said I needed to work on my interview skills before I can be on tv. I think they need to work on doing better interviews," Brittany pouted.
"Whatever, we're going staying here for the night and then we're driving to the Dallas for the next round of auditions. We're going to get on that damned show. And Rachel and the rest of them were supposed to come with us because we were supposed to split time between the dance auditions and American Idol auditions…"Santana explained. "Now that's shot to hell, and I'm seriously going to wring Rupaul's neck!"
"Do you guys really think you should be auditioning for-"
"Save it, teach," Santana said lowly. "This was supposed to be my fun summer. Now its ruined. What are the three of you losers going to do to get my fun summer back?"
***West Virginia***
"I quite enjoy the way I feel when I press my foot upon the acceleration. I feel…powerful."
Rachel bit her lip and looked at the car salesman through her eyelashes. The man squirmed in the passenger sheet as a blush spread across his cheeks as Rachel's small hands stroked the steering wheel in a flirty way. She bit her lip and let a small moan rumble in her throat when Quinn's hand reached from the backseat and pressed against her shoulder.
"Sister, we shouldn't covet this life…we're destined to return to the farm," Quinn practically breathed her hand caressing Rachel's shoulder.
Both girls knew that Puck was a genius at that very moment. He had come up with a million contingencies for this little plan. Their awkward and inappropriate clothing was easily explained away with their cover. Two Amish sisters on their rumspringa away from their community, wanting to try out the car Rachel was currently easing down the back country road. Rachel had inwardly cringed that Puck's plans always involved she and Quinn touching and caressing each other, but in this case it had worked. The car salesman was completely oblivious as he stared between the scantily clad girls with a look akin to someone who had just hit the jackpot.
"Tell me what it feels like, sister," Quinn whispered, her voice a delirious combination of innocent and scandalous. She scooted forward and pressed her lips to Rachel's ear and whispered, "Tell me…"
"Oh dear sweet Jesus," the man whispered as Rachel put her foot on the brake gently. They were at a full stop and without warning, the passenger side door jerked open and the car salesman was being pulled from the car forcefully.
"This is a carjack!" Puck bellowed, throwing the guy to the side of the road, his concealed 'gun' pointing towards Rachel. "DRIVE!"
"Lord help us!" Quinn called out dramatically as Rachel pealed away from the car salesman. She hurtled down the road at breakneck speed, all of Puck's careful driving lessons from their previous summer together coming in handy on the backroads.
"Berry-pants, stop! There's our boy!" Puck hollered. "Quinn, get him in the car!"
Quinn opened one of the back doors and yelled, "Finn! Come on, we have to get out of here!"
"Huh? I just got a lot of free stuff from this nice lady back there. And then she read my note and pointed me back towards my house. Do I live here?" Finn wondered, his tone spaced out and oblivious. He grinned at Quinn and said, "You're pretty. Monkey dud."
"Get in the car, FINN!" Quinn screeched at him.
"You're being mean!" Finn accused.
"Get in the car, Finn and you can touch my boobs!" Quinn promised.
He dove in head first, hands reaching out anxiously. Quinn managed to maneuver around his body and slammed the door shut. "DRIVE!"
Rachel sped away anxiously, going at least ten miles in the span of three minutes as they silently made their get-away. Quinn grabbed the bag that Finn had obtained from the gas station and pulled out the phone charger. She tossed it to Puck, who pulled out the phone he had been using as his concealed weapon and he plugged it into the car adapter. They all held their breath as the phone booted up, waiting for the signal that would tell them where their friends were.
"Berry-pants, you won't believe this," Puck whispered.
"Are the police following us?" Rachel panicked, accelerating even more.
"No, no. Not yet. We're good," Quinn promised.
"The signal, it's in Hershey, Pennsylvania," Puck chuckled, remembering their overnight stay in the Chocolate Capitol of America a few summers ago. "I'm totally going to kick your ass at bumper cars, Finn."
"Monkey dud."
Did I forget to tell y'all that the format would be changing up? Did I totally leave the last flash forward Fuickleberry blowing up? Woops. So, can I ever write Finn again when he is NOT high? Who would want that? Can I write Santana being an assbitch to Schue ALL. THE. TIME.? Don't you love Jackie Chang's Abs? Are you sad that Tina is busy bitching at Artie about Satan-a instead of falling for his abs at Jewcamp, I mean Asian Camp? ;) Can you believe that Puck carjacked the car salesman? And if Santana, Brittany, Mike and Matt are in Indianapolis, who in the heck are Fuickleberry following to Hershey?
All of these questions will be answered in the next installment of Fuickleberry Saves the World, coming sometime this week! Love and Glee people. Love and Glee.