This should be considered a crime against humanity! A complete abomination to society! Oh, if you could make it illegal, you would! You would throw every last person who did this into jail for the rest of their lives!

But, alas, you were only ten and really didn't have any sort of power like that. Well, at least for the rest of the world. But it your own home, that was a completely different story.

You made the laws around here. Which is exactly why today, you decided to put your foot down.

It was about six o'clock that afternoon, and you had been coloring away in your brand new Strawberry Shortcake coloring book Russel had gotten your yesterday. You decided to get a bit crazy and color Strawberry's hair purple. You made a swipe for the violet crayon when you noticed it was gone. You picked up your box of Crayola off the floor and peaked into it. With close examination, you realized that the purple crayon was missing!

You tossed the box aside and got up, knowing you had another box in your bedroom. Not wanting the inspiration to leave you, you darted from the living room to the lift. You never made it to the lift though. Halfway there, you had slipped, sending your legs over your head. You rolled back a few paces before finally getting your bearings and sitting yourself up. Thank goodness for your radio helmet, otherwise you would have a little more than a sore back. You rubbed your aching spine as you looked around the room, trying to determine what you had slipped on. Your eyes locked with what you had slipped on, the object in question was only half a centimeter from your foot, causing your body to recoil with enough momentum to send you flying backwards, as far away from the object as humanly possible.

Laying on the middle of the floor liked it owned the place was Murdoc's cheetah printed thong. Maybe it was the bonk on the head you had just received, but you could have sworn you saw it move!

You stared at it, stunned at its very existence. It took a few minutes before you had your plan of action ready. You slipped your shoe off, using the toe to slowly pick up the under garment. Keeping it at a safe distance, you head toward the lift, in search of the offender.

However, you never make it to the lift this time either. Slipping once more, you fall onto your back, the thong flung off the shoe and landed strategically on your face. You don't even have time to gag as you send the thong flying, rubbing your face against the carpet below you in order to get the germs off. Once you were pretty sure you were safe from any facial STDs, you look to see what you had slipped on this time.

A sock.

Judging by the foot side of the shoe, as well as the obvious hole in the two, you quickly figure it to be 2D's. As much as you hated to do so, the singer was now on your hit list. You picked your shoe back up, retrieving the thong on it yet again, before reaching for the sock. You cringe as the horrid odor of unwashed foot hit your nose, causing you to drop both items. You groan, sucking in a deep breath before reaching for both items again. You hold your breath as you take the lift to the car park.

Once you have reached your destination, you step out of the lift, only to slide back in to it, the sock landing on your face this time, the thong making it to your helmet. You stared at the stars in front of your vision before sitting up quickly, letting the garments fall from you. Looking down to see what you had tripped on, you saw a rather large shirt on the floor.

Judging by the size, one could easily figure it to belong to none other than Russel Hobbs. The thing looked like a parachute for crying out loud!

You quickly regained your senses and plucked your shoe back up, retrieving the underwear and foot covering before depositing them directly onto the table cloth sized shirt. Working quickly, you pulled the corners of the shirt in, creating a safe sack for you to carry your disgusting cargo in. Hoisting the make-shift bag over your shoulder, you continue on your path to find the boys. You first check in 2D's room, enjoying the soft scent of smoke and butterscotch, letting your free foot curl in the soft shag rug on the floor. The lights were dimmed, making it almost impossible to not want to sleep standing up, but you had to keep pressing on your journey. A quick glance let's you know that your singer is not in his room. That could only mean one thing.

You slowly make your way to the car park, cringing slightly as your foot makes contact with the cold concrete. As much as you would have loved to, you probably should disinfect your shoe (and get a tetanize shot) before even considering putting the thing back on your foot. Quickly getting used to the cold of the floor, you press onward, looking around the lot now. Geep was still parked in her usual spot, so everyone must still be at home. It isn't until you hear a shout from the direction of Murdoc's Winnebago do you feel the need to run for the hills. Murdoc must have a girl o-

"I'S JUSTTA GAME, MUDZ!"

"Dawg, calm da fuck down."

You knew those voices well, well enough to know that they belonged to two men you knew and loved. Or rather, were angry with at the moment. You creep around the side of the Winne in order to surprise them, craning your neck to see what they were up to.

Murdoc's hands are about 2D's neck, shaking him like a dead bird. Discarded red cups and beer bottles litter the ground around them, a lone ping pong ball rolling toward your feet indicates that they had been playing beer pong.

"THE DULLARD CHEATED!"

"HOW DA HELL DO YA CHEAT AT BEER PONG!?"

"HAI!" Never before in your life had you seen three fully grown men jump like scared old women before.

"Noodle!" Murdoc exclaims, turning quickly to face you. He lets go of 2D's neck, sending the male to the floor.

"Baby girl, wha' are ya doin' with my shirt?" Russel asks. You drop the shirt and quick it open, revealing the articles of clothing you had found along the way.

"SWEET SATAN, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SMELL!?" Murdoc crashes against the wall of his love-shack-on-wheels, clutching his horribly misshapen nose.

"Meh sock! Los' tha' thing a month ago!" 2D reaches for the dead-animal-aka-his-sock.

"WASH THA DAMN THING, WILL YA?!" Murdoc gags.

"Yo, Mudz, ain't that yo thong?" Russel points out, lifting up the shirt to flick it off.

"Oy! Noodle, what were ye doin' wiff my thong?" Murdoc asks awkwardly. You fold your arms.

"LEFT ON FLOOR, CLEAN UP HOUSE!" You exclaim angrily. Murdoc gives you a trivial look before smirking evilly.

"Oh sure, Noodle, we'll pick up, right boys?" He turns, the other men nodding slowly.

"However," Murdoc strolls closer and kneels down to your level, giving you a sickening smirk, "Ya gotta pick up your room, too."

And that, dear people, is exactly what Kong could easily be described as the messiest studio in human history.