21st Century Breakdown/ 21 Guns - Green Day
Chloe POV
"FOOD FIGHT!" I shrieked, and hurled the takeout box of rice at Tori. It hit her full in the face with a satisfying thunk and scattered rice all over her hair like a thousand lice. Her facial expression was absolutely adorable. The accompanying banshee screech, however, was not adorable. Even Derek, who was retching in to the sink, turned around to cringe at Tori. She blinked angrily a couple times, and then extended her hands straight out towards the table, muttering a knock-back spell under her breath. In the next second, all the contents the table had held were flying towards Derek and I at warp speed. I ducked, giggling madly, as the majority of the food ricocheted off Derek's back.
"You stupid bitch!" Tori yelled. Up until this point, Simon had been in the background, stunned at what was transpired and not getting it. Then, I could literally see the neurotransmitters inside his head going off. The words "food fight" finally registered with him, and he laughed loudly, albeit slightly maniacally. He ran to the pantry and grabbed a pickle jar. He twisted the top off, grunting in what he probably thought was a masculine manner, and started tossing pickles at the three of us. Apparently, alliances meant nothing once the art of food throwing was involved.
I ran to the fridge and yanked out a jar of salsa. Not the extremely spicy kind, as that would just be mean, right? I got the top off and jerked the jar in Tori's direction. The scarlet chunks of tomato, ivory pieces of onion, and the emerald of cilantro (mold? It had been a while since we had gotten it…) made a magnificent menagerie of color in her hair. I laughed and finished off the jar with Simon. His golden hair made a wonderful backdrop for my masterpiece.
By now, Derek's puking had finally ceased, thankfully. He wiped his mouth on a dishtowel, and turned around. He then noticed what was going on. Furious at Tori and Simon's pizza prank, he looked eager to peg them with whatever ammo could be found in the armory that was to most people a Frigidaire. He dashed over there and grabbed a carton of eggs. He held the container in one arm and tossed the baby grenades with his free hand. He didn't aim for the faces, but let's just say that their clothing had definitely seen better days. His facial expression was one that can be seen in the old time pictures of wartime.
Tori slid to the table, the floor now covered with a rather putrid combination of egg guts, salsa, and pickle juice. She grabbed the unopened soda and took it in her hands like one might a machine gun. She shook it rapidly, and then instinctively whispered a few words. She aimed it at us, and then flicked her fingers at the cap.
Geologists still cannot explain the sudden, apparently random formation of a geyser in New Jersey that was a size arguably big enough to give Old Faithful a run for its money.
I dove under the table in a move that Bruce Lee would have hi-fived me for. However, I found that being under the table did just about nothing to protect me from the spray. The entire kitchen was drenched, including myself and the boys. Tori, however, was incongruously dry and grinning like a lunatic.
It would have been ridiculous to the point of insanity to hope that Kit and Lauren had not noticed the nuclear food war that had taken place in the kitchen. That did not, however, stop us from cleaning out the rest of the fridge and pantry of anything that would make a vaguely good projectile. So when the two finally got off their asses and went to see what their delinquent adopted supernatural children were doing, or rather destroying, the room looked less like a kitchen and more like a piece of modern art. Does anyone actually understand that shit?
"Stop it!" Lauren shrieked, just before receiving a tomato full in the face, courtesy of me.
"Hey!" Kit yelled, stepping forward, before slipping on a banana peel (too damn funny) and slamming in to the corner of the table, meat sword first. Everyone in the room cringed as he went down, face frozen in a horrid snarl of agony. The room was silent, and the soft sploosh of his limp body hitting the ground was audible from all directions. He curled in a fetal position. No one knew what to say.
The lunatic, humorless laughter from Simon was that of a condemned man.
Derek POV
We stood in the ruined kitchen, all 4 teens lined up straight like soldiers about to get a beating. Kit was walking, no, pacing in front of us, looking for all the world like an Asian Hitler about to chew out some disobedient Nazis. This effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that his shirt was splattered with pieces of food, and the sausage he was repetitively hitting against the other hand in an attempt to look menacing. Eva, I mean Lauren, stood off to one side, arms crossed, expression sour. Despite her best efforts to clean it off, Chloe's well-thrown tomato still remained in places on her face and neck.
"I am so disappointed in you-" Kit began, stopping in his pacing to face us. But before he had the chance to finish his sentence, Chloe leapt forward, dripping with soda water and God knows what else. She shook out her hair and yelled.
"No! I regret nothing! I apologize for nothing! I take full responsibility for my actions! I enjoyed every damn second, and I'll do it again! You'll never take me alive!" At this, I had to reach forward and grab the back of her shirt and attempt to restrain her. She fought me, apparently still carrying on with her "I will not be repressed" act.
"Save it for the camera," I muttered, and she quit, arms folding across her chest. Kit glared down at her, which was steadily returned on Chloe's part, and then continued addressing the group.
"I've decided that it's best if we simply vacate the rooms. We've been paying by night anyways. And I'm aware of the fact that it's a crime to damage the room like this and not pay for the damages-"
"Wait we're not paying for the damages?" Chloe said in a rush. Kit gave her another look.
"No, as we don't have the funds to redo something like this and-"
"Haha! Our legend lives on, friends!" She hi-fived all the minors, and before she could do something ridiculous, like flip off her aunt and guardian and run out of the room and down the street, screaming about her legacy, I yanked her back again. Something about mindless destruction just made this girl absolutely high…
Kit, now shaking his head, regained control of the situation. "We're going to leave in an hour. Pack all your belongings. And please, for the love of God, take a shower." With that, he dismissed us, and somehow, we knew that we were still going to be punished. But then again, who cared?
I called the guy's shower first, and yanked out some clean clothes to wear. I showered thoroughly, and brushed my teeth even more thoroughly. I pulled on the clothes and set about packing my clothes. I finished that rather easily, as I was leaving most of my too-short jeans behind. Yeah, another winner, that prank was.
I lugged my suitcase discreetly down to the car. When I was in the elevator, I thought about what my dad had said about not paying for the damages. It raised the question, again, of where our funds were coming from. I hoped he wasn't doing anything immoral, like bank robbing. Because if he was, then I was seriously going to be pissed. I mean, why hadn't he invited me? I scowled at the thought. The one other person in the elevator looked over at me, and then nearly tripped over himself scrambling over the threshold.
At the car, I hurled my bag in without a second thought. I then got the urge to Change, because something was telling me that this was going to be one long-ass drive. I looked around, then bolted to the trees that surrounded the hotel, shucking my jacket as I went.
Simon POV
I finished packing my suitcase, and set it by the door. I then went to go see Tori, because if there was a chance of repairing the alliance, then I had better do it now. She probably hadn't been pleased by the food fight, and the accompanying fact that I'd attacked her with pickles. Yeah, I had better apologize.
I walked in to her room and found her packing, as Chloe was in the shower. She looked up as I walked in, surprisingly not scowling at me or looking ready to claw my eyes out. In fact, it may have been a trick of the light, or a sudden mirage, or random muscle spasm, or a fart like those babies do and it looks like they're smiling at you but really they're just popping a really nasty one and you're oblivious because of their blinding cuteness… where was I going with that? Right. It looked like she smiled at me. But again, any one of the things above could have really been the cause.
I came to stand right in front of her, and she sat there, waiting. My hand went to the back of my neck, and I scrambled for words. "Well, I, uh, just wanted to, uh, kinda, well, uh, apo-"
She cut me off with a hand gesture. "Wasn't the food fight awesome?" she asked excitedly, and again, there might have been that trick of the light, or the muscle spasm, or the broken wind, but I could have sworn that I saw the corners of her mouth tilt up in a non-sarcastic or menacing way. My eyebrows rose and I took an involuntary step back. I heard the shower stop in the next room.
"Are you feeling alright?" was the first thing my mouth could think of to say, and before I could hit myself for saying something that she was obviously going to take offense to, she laughed. And I mean an honest-to-God laugh. Like, the creation of sounds through the throat while breathing rapidly and shallowly to express amusement.
"Of course I'm feeling alright! I mean, what's a better stress-remover than getting to throw a bunch of food at people for no good reason at all? I feel lighter than air!" She then proceeded to make those odd sounds again, along with the messed up breathing pattern. Just then, Chloe stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. She heard Tori before she saw her, and I saw her eyes widen as large as saucers. She clapped her free hand over one ear.
"Put that thing out of its misery!" she called, and then stepped forward. "What-" she managed, cocking her head to the side as she took in Tori on the floor, appearing as though she were asphyxiating.
"Simon, do the Heimlich!" she shouted, panicking.
"Chloe, she's laughing, not choking," I told her, eyes still riveted to Tori. A moment later, Chloe joined in the staring.
"Just back away slowly," she said softly, backing up in to her room. I did the same back in to mine.
That's what I get for trying to be a good person.
Chloe POV
After the strange Tori-laughing episode, I hurried up and dressed and finished in the bathroom. I packed the rest of my belongings, and was then rushed out the door by Aunt Lauren. The rushing lasted all the way in to the car, until all 6 of us were there.
The next two days were boring as hell.
Driving. And driving. And then driving. More driving. Even more driving. Then even more driving then that. Then, just to break the melancholy, a gas station. Three guesses what came next. I'll give you a hint: starts with a D. Then, miraculously, after an evening of sleeping in the car (not recommended at all) a motel!
When we got there, it was one o' clock in the morning. As far as I knew, we were somewhere in Texas. Yay.
I was wide awake, thanks to a lovely couple of Starbucks mooched from the adults. However, I thought I was the only one. Simon and Tori were actually sharing the seat this time, which I attributed to her insane good mood. Wasn't gonna question it. But when we had to get out, I noted that Derek awoke more easily than the other two did.
When we finally got the rooms, everyone pretty much collapsed in to the beds. I just sat on the couch and debated what to do with the rest of my evening.
Derek crept in at about a quarter past two.
"You wanna do a prank?" he asked in one big rush. Someone had drank more coffee than me, apparently.
"Sure," I muttered, more out of boredom than anything.
"Do we have any food coloring?" Derek asked 10 minutes later, as we exited the motel and headed to the car, where our unpacked bags had remained.
"I think so," I said, as I rummaged through the duffel that contained our food supply. Yup, there they were. From some as yet undone prank, still in the packaging.
"Heh, let's tape them to the showerheads so that they dye whoever showers next," Derek said, chuckling, sounding remarkably like he was auditioning to voice either Beavis or Butthead.
"Heh, yeah," I said in the same manner, playing along. Derek smiled at me, getting the reference.
"Ooh, rubber bands!" I said a while later, pulling them out of the package. "Let's put them on the faucets and make them splash people!" I gestured with my hands, giggling. I completely blamed the coffee for the incoherence.
Then Derek had an idea.
"I knew it was gonna come in handy on day, I just knew it!" he suddenly exclaimed, grabbing his suitcase and rummaging through it frantically. Then he pulled out a small, bright red package. I looked at it curiously.
"The hell is that?" I muttered.
"Super-strength Chilean itching powder," he told me, cracking up. "Oh, it's gonna be so cool!" I started laughing too.
"Brilliant!" I told him, and then, still laughing, started going through Tori's suitcase. "Look! Let's coat the soap with this clear nail polish! No clean hands tomorrow! Wait, ew! Oh well!" Derek shrugged.
"Just keep one clean soap for us to use." I beamed at him.
"Great idea!"
We both continued rummaging through the bags, looking for anything that could be vaguely useful in a prank.
"All that's in here is clothes!" I moaned after a few more minutes of fruitless searching. I tossed a handful of clothes away from me in frustration. Just then, Derek grinned.
"That's exactly it," he told me excitedly, holding up two handfuls of clothes, presumably Simon's. He then proceeded to relay his idea to me in excited whispers, though there was no one around.
"Awesome! How late is Wal-Mart open?"
Derek POV
I grinned down at Chloe as we walked down the darkened sidewalk. She was under my arm, carrying a plastic shopping bag that crackled cheerfully in the somewhat dank atmosphere. I was rolling a suitcase that contained my father's and brother's clothing. We were looking for a late-night Laundromat. Any one that was open then would suit our devious purposes.
Finally, we found one with a broken streetlight in front of it. We slipped inside. It was completely deserted, which befitted the hour. I rummaged with my free hand in my pockets for some change, and Chloe did the same. We ended up with just enough for one run in the washer and another in the dryer.
I walked over and opened the suitcase on one of the benches conveniently located for waiting patrons. I pulled out all the clothes and stuck them in a washer. Chloe then walked up with her bag. She pulled out its contents and opened the package. She unscrewed the top of the bottle and emptied the contents in to the washer. I peered doubtfully in.
"It just looks black," I told her, examining the pooling liquid.
"The hair dye did too, at first. Don't worry, it'll turn a really lovely color soon enough." With that, she snapped shut the lid of the washer, inserted her coins, and adjusted the settings.
"You may have the honor," she told me, indicating the Start button.
"Don't mind if I do," I told her, and pressed the button firmly.
A sense of anticlimax came over me as the washer came to life, and water poured crustily in to the old machine. I backed up to the bench and sat.
"And now we wait," Chloe muttered, leaning against me.
Forty minutes later, the washer beeped, and I stood clumsily. Chloe sat up straight, and then stretched, yawning. She frowned sleepily as I heaved the now bright pink clothing in to the adjacent dryer.
"Breast cancer awareness," I said cheerily, imaging the looks on the guys faces when they saw their new clothes. I shoved in a couple of coins and walked away as the machine began its spinning.
"You're looking tired," I told Chloe, lifting her chin gently to examine the circles under her eyes. She blinked, and turned away.
"Not much sleep last night," she said around a yawn, covering her mouth.
"Let's go find some coffee," I told her, gesturing towards the door.
"But it's so late," she murmured, cocking her head uncertainly.
"Who cares. Let's just go."
Outside, the night was still sultry, despite the hour. It took a bit of walking, and at one point I was honestly worried I was going to have to carry my girlfriend back to the motel and forget about the prank, but eventually we found a convenience store selling bottled caffeine. I bought two sodas and two coffees, because if we wanted to finish the prank in the motel room, we'd need more than one. I handed Chloe her soda and toasted her as we walked back to the Laundromat.
"To the life of SASDOBKA's pranking," I said, and took a sip.
"To the life of pranking in general," she responded, and chugged a sip like a trucker.
When we got back to the place, there was still ten minutes left on the timer. I frowned.
"What do you wanna do?" I asked Chloe, all vestiges of tiredness now gone from my body and mind.
"I can think of a few things," she told me, smiling like a cat would at a canary. She took a slow, purposeful step forward, carrying the confidence of a hunter. Her smile hinted at things that I was only too eager to see happen. Another step. I decided to play it ignorant.
"Oh? Like what?" I said coyly, pivoting a quarter turn to the right, affecting a thinking pose. "I suppose we can always, oh, talk or something. World economy and such."
Chloe was having none of this. She continued to stalk forward, hands curling in to frightful claws at her sides. Her tone remained light, though.
"Mmm, no, I don't think so," she murmured, pausing and cocking her head to the side, her smile turning from sweet to feral. Then, unexpectedly, she lunged, hitting me full in the chest. My hands went around her waist, keeping her there, as she kissed me fiercely.
"Good idea," I told her, and felt her smile rather than saw it.
A few minutes later, the timer beeped. I half-expected the huntress to hiss at it, but she refrained, sliding meekly off of me instead. She pulled all the fresh clothes out of the dryer, the heat making her flush adorably. She dumped all of it on top of the suitcase, and she began folding it all to fit inside.
Once it was all neatly put away, she zipped it shut and pulled out the handle. She lugged it towards the door while I got the bag containing our coffees.
When we finally got back to the motel, I could feel the tiredness creeping up again, ready to make me bound in to my bed. I resisted the urge, and unlocked the car. I rummaged around to find my Chilean itching powder, and when I did, I opened all the suitcases except Chloe's and my own. I put some powder in to each item of clothing except undergarments. Because no one likes an itch in the undercarriage.
I then carefully replaced the clothing in everyone's respective suitcases, and shut them all. Before I did that, though, I retrieved the items we would need in the room. I retrieved the convenience store bag and handed Chloe her coffee as I took my own. We downed it eagerly as we made our way to the staircase.
In the rooms, I assigned her the task of coating the soap with the nail polish. I went in to each bathroom and put a rubber band over the faucet to ensure maximum spray capability. When Chloe had finished, she returned the soaps to their respective containers. Then, I handed her the container of blue dye.
"This is for the girls' room," I told her, and she nodded. She saluted me as she made her way in to their room. We had agreed before to call it a night after we had placed the dye, and I called a quiet good night as she shut the door.
I took my container of red dye that would clash so wonderfully with the newly pink clothing. The ladies would be all over them for this. I grabbed a rubber band from the bag open on the table and went in to the bathroom. I fastened the dye container to the showerhead with the rubber band, and when satisfied that it would come out when the shower turned on, I headed to bed. I couldn't wait to hear the shrieks of my brother and father the following morning.
As a last minute thought, I hurried downstairs and back down to the car. I dug through my bag until I could find my camera. I would want pictures of this.
I had a dream last night we drove out to see Las Vegas. We lost ourselves in the bright lights, I wish you could have seen us… this song interlude and most of this chapter brought to you from Vegas. :D
Know what I realized? I should have waited to do the horror movie prank until after I read Stephen King's Pet Sematary. Gah. You know my mother suggested that book to me? Thanks for the nightmares, mom. Moofing on.
Hehe. Moofing.
Sheblehbleh. I love Green Days' 21st Century Breakdown album. Great story there. X)
You're welcome for the new chapter. And also, really, don't freaking volunteer all at once to beta read for this story. You're flooding my inbox, I can't decide who to pick.
That was sarcasm. I do need help. Please and thank you.
Oh, and prank ideas are always welcome. I'll reply to most of the ideas, and credit will be given where credit is due.
So, erm… REVIEW! Cha mah peeps, getting a response lets me know that all the page views aren't just from myself. & also because writing a chapter and getting no response is like writing a letter and not getting a reply :'(
REVIEW FOR MASS HYSTERIA! (say in your review if you got the references both here and at the top of this author's note :3)