Project Loud House

Lincoln's eyelids fluttered open and his mind switched on like his and Johnny's ancient PC warming up for the day. He smacked his lips, stirred, and blinked his grainy orbs. The mist in his head slowly filtered away and his vision swam into focus. Cool air blew from the grate directly over him. It was so close that if he stretched out his arm, he could press his palm against it.

Why was the ceiling so low?

His mind immediately went to the scene in The Lost Boys where Michael, being gradually turned into a vampire, wakes up with his face against the ceiling (OMG WHY AM I FLOATING?) and his heart jumped. Was he one of the living dead now? Did a bat fly in during the night and bite his neck? Don't they usually bite girls?

Even as those thoughts formed, the dawn of understanding spread across his brain, banishing all bloodsucking freaks back to their holes. He was on the top bunk in his and Johnny's new closet-bedroom. His room was currently a jumble of wreckage being carted away by a clean-up crew and all of his worldly possessions were either stored under the bunk bed or in the basement because they couldn't fit in the room.

It had been three days since an EF3 tornado slammed into his house and blew it to pieces. Dad was in touch with the insurance company and trying to figure out what they were going to do. See, neither Mom nor Dad could remember exactly what the policy said and their copy was buried in the rubble, never to be seen again. Mom thought the insurance company would rebuild the house as it was, using the original floorplan, but Dad thought they would offer a payout for a new house. Lincoln didn't know which parent to believe, but one of them had to be right.

Right?

They had full homeowners' insurance so they wouldn't just be left out in the cold. Something had to give.

He rubbed his eyes and the world swam into focus.

A terrible white face stared down at him from the grate.

Lincoln let out a terrified scream and sat bolt upright. The apparition screamed too, in a cold, robotic manner, and Lincoln realized who it was.

"Lucy," he panted, heart racing, "you scared me half to death. What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Johnny," Lucy said, "so I can watch him sleep."

Uh...creepy. Touching, but creepy. "He's on the bottom," Lincoln said. He didn't tell her that this stalkerish behavior was precisely why he insisted on taking the bottom bunk: As soon as they got in this room, he saw that vent and said I don't wanna sleep there. Lucy might try to watch me sleep. Lincoln thought he was just being paranoid, but here they were.

Hanging her head in defeat, Lucy sighed. "I'll come back later."

She disappeared and Lincoln waited a few minutes to make sure she was actually gone before jumping down. "Told you," Johnny said. He lay on his side in the pool of shadows that was his bunk.

"When you're right, you're right," Lincoln admitted. He stripped to his underwear and pulled on a pair of jeans. He tugged a white T-shirt over his head and slipped into a short-sleeve button up with flames on the front. Johnny called it his "edgy early 2000s kid" outfit. Lincoln called it gnarly.

Sitting up, Johnny stretched and yawned. "You should put a piece of paper over the vent so Lucy doesn't scare you like that again."

"Good idea," Lincoln said, "she can use it to write you a love letter."

Johnny shuddered.

When both boys were dressed, they went out into the hall and skidded to a halt.

There was a line for the bathroom.

Like always.

Leni, Luna, Luan, Lynn, Lana, and Lisa stood single file in front of the bathroom. Lincoln's bladder twinged and he suddenly realized he had to pee. He and Johnny walked over, and a split second before they took their place, Lucy dropped out of the vent and landed on her feet ahead of them. Lincoln jumped back and Johnny cried out in alarm, but no one else seemed to even realize anything strange had happened...almost like they were used to it. "First come, first serve," she said and dusted herself off.

Oh, you didn't have to tell Lincoln that, the three days he'd spent here sent that message loud and clear. Every morning, he and Johnny were the last ones to the bathroom, and by the time they got to the kitchen, all the food was usually gone and the table littered with cups and bowls as though everyone had simply dematerialized in the middle of the meal. No matter what time of day they tried to use the can, someone was always in there. At dinner, the Loud girls were like a school of phrnah, and if you didn't get to the table lickety freking split, there would be nothing left. Yesterday, Lana legit ate more than Dad, and Lola wasn't far behind. Luan crammed a handful of French fries into her mouth and squirted ketchup in after, and Luna licked her plate when she was done, looking for all the world like a cat cleaning itself. Food flew from their working maws, Lisa farted, Lucy burped, and Mr. Loud laughed so hard at something his wife said that iced tea squirted from his nose. Mom pressed her hand to her mouth, horrified, and Dad watched slack-jawed. When someone's a messier eater than Dad, you know there's a problem.

Nights were no picnic either. The walls here were literally so thin that you could see through them if you threw some grease on them first, and Lincoln could hear everything. Lori talking on the phone to her boyfriend three rooms down, Luna's stereo (how many times are you going to play Cocaine by Eric Clapton on repeat?), Lana snoring, and Luan cracking dumb jokes in her sleep. What's the opposite of ladyfingers? Mentos! If he really strained to listen, he could even hear Dad's snoring and he and Mom were in the freaking garage. Seriously, what the heck was wrong with this place?

And don't even get him started on what a dump it was. There was a hole in the bathroom floor, the doorknobs came off in your hands, every single floorboard creaked (making midnight snack runs impossible), and there were cracks, gouges, holes, and dings in every single wall. The carpet in the living room was a matted patchwork of spills, the linoleum popped under your feet, and there was a draft everywhere.

Lincoln always knew the Louds must have it rough over here, but he had no idea. Living with so many other people - and being poor to boot - was a nightmare. Lincoln and his family didn't eat lobster every night or anything, but they didn't have to throw cans of random ingredients together to make a meal like Mr. and Mrs. Loud did. The other day, they had Spam, peas, lima beans, and croutons topped with slices of Dollar Tree cheese. Mr. Loud had to work late so he didn't even have time to bake it: He served it cold and it was the most awful thing Lincoln had ever tasted in his life: It was cold and greasy and gelatinous and just thinking about the way it wiggled down his throat made him wretch.

Presently, the bathroom door opened and Lori came out. Leni went in and the line moved one step ahead. Johnny shifted restlessly from one foot to the other and Lincoln pressed his knees together to keep his bladder from exploding. "This is dumb," Lincoln said.

"I know," Johnny said through his teeth. "Hopefully they don't take forever."

Ha.

Guess what.

They took forever. Each Loud girl was in there for an average of six hours and fifty nine minutes (or so it seemed). Finally, Lincoln and Johnny had their chance. The next problem was this: Lincoln couldn't find his toothbrush. He left it right there in the cup, but it was gone. "Hey, Linc," Luna said from behind him, "I borrowed your toothbrush to clean my boots. Hope you don't mind."

Lincoln gaped. "You did what?"

She held up his toothbrush. The bristles were bent and caked with dirt and what looked like dog poo. "It's nothing a quick wash won't fix. Look." She bent over, stuck it into the toilet, and swirled it around. "Good as new," she proclaimed. She held it out and Lincoln pinched it between his thumb and forefinger.

Johnny grinned...then called out indignatly when Lynn ducked around Luna and grabbed the bag off his head. "I need to borrow this for my gym stuff. Thanks."

Before he could protest, she was gone, and so, too, was Luna. He turned to Lincoln lowered his brows. "She took my bag," he said, as though Lincoln were blind and hadn't seen what had just transpired.

"Yeah? Luna ruined my toothbrush. Now I have to get another one."

That was no easy feat. Most of his and Johnny's businesses had been set back by the tornado, and for the first time in years, they didn't have a steady income. Lisa had lent them some of her tools so they could maintenance the soda machines they had deposited throughout Royal Woods and start fixing bikes again, but the disaster that unfolded on Franklin Avenue the other day had knocked them clean off their feet and it was taking time to get back in the groove of things. They had a little money saved up but not much, and Lincoln wasn't happy about having to buy another toothbrush because Luna straight up stole his to clean her shoes with. Like...wow, that was the rudest freaking thing anyone had ever done to him. She might as well have straight up spit in his face.

"Dude, that was my last bag. Now I don't have one and people are going to look at me like I'm crazy."

Lincoln rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause a guy without a paper bag on his head is such a weirdo."

"It's my thing," Johnny said. "I'm telling you, any deviation will throw people off and make me stand out."

Waving him off, Lincoln dropped his toothbrush in the trash can.

Ten minutes later, they got to the breakfast table, and sure enough, it looked like a cloud of locust had swept through. The only morsel of food left was a cereal bar and a tiny, bitter crabapple. Lincoln and Johnny exchanged a look, then turned around and left. Frick it, Lincoln thought, they'd just eat at school.

Ha.

That didn't happen. To make a long story short, Lori drove them to school in Vanzilla, dropping Luan and Lynn off at the middle school because it was closer. On the way to the elementary school, Lana and Lola got into a shouting match over who sucked more, Caillou or Scrappy-Doo, and that turned into a knockdown, drag out fight that literally sucked Lucy and Lisa in like a tornado. You know how cartoon characters create a big dust cloud when they fight, with the occasional limb popping out? Lincoln never knew that was actually possible until that morning. "KNOCK IT OFF!" Lori yelled into the rearview mirror.

Lucy's foot clocked Leni in the side of the head, and Lincoln swore that Leni's eyes started to glow red. Baring her teeth and hooking her talons like a vengeful she-demon with an IQ so low it scraped the ground, she lunged headfirst into the battle. Luna, taking offense to Leni entering the fray and putting hands on an eight year old, waded in, and all heck broke loose. Lincoln tried to make as small a target of himself as possible, but that didn't save him from catching a fist to the chin. The Big Ball of Violence engulfed Johnny, who screamed like a woman, and Lincoln hurriedly pulled his seatbelt on, but before he could, he was dragged in too.

When Lori finally pulled over and separated everyone, Lincoln and Johnny both looked like they had been mauled by a pack of dogs. Lincoln's bottom lip was so fat they wanted to put it on the cover of Cosmo (THIS IS HEALTHY), Johnny's eye was black enough to say the N-word, and their clothes were filled with rips, tears, and holes. The worst part of all was that they got to school fifteen minutes late and couldn't even eat breakfast. When they walked into the classroom, everyone turned to look at them, hiding their snickers and giggles behind their hands. Stella's jaw dropped and Sid couldn't stop herself from exclaiming, "What happened to you guys?"

"Nothing," Lincoln grumbled and took his seat.

She turned to Johnny and did a double take. "Where's your bag?"

Huh.

Someone did notice.

Interesting.

All that day, kids and teachers alike shot him funny looks and made sidelong comments. Mr. Preston, the chemistry teacher, spent the whole class dunking on them. Imagine a grown white man with bad teeth and a little tuft of gray hair on his otherwise bald head straight roasting an eleven and twelve year for forty-five minutes. "You never want to mix these two chemicals," he said at one point, "or it'll blow up in your face and you'll look like Lincoln and Johnny."

Everyone yukked it up, and all Lincoln could do was mock their laughter.

"I'd ask you boys if you need to see the nurse, but you look like you need a mortician instead."

Hee hee hee, haw haw haw.

At lunch, Johnny explained to Sid, Liam, and Stella why they looked like Major Biden's chew toy (Major Biden? More like Major Bittin'. Get it, 'cause he bit a White House staffer's hand off?). Sid scrunched her lips to the side and Liam looked down at his tray, at a loss for what to say.

"It sounds like living with them kind of sucks," Stella said.

Lincoln sighed. "I mean...they took us in when we needed help and all, but…" he trailed off.

"But this is BS," Johnny said. "We can't even get to the bathroom in the morning. They did us a solid but dang."

Yep. Dang. That's really all Lincoln could say. The Loud girls didn't mean to be loud, rude, selfish, aggressive, overbearing, and completely inconsiderate, but that didn't change the end result. If you run a guy over with your van because you turned around to mess with your dog, it doesn't matter if you hit that guy walking up the shoulder of Route 5, you still hit him. Lincoln really did appreciate what the Louds had done for him and his family, but this was too much.

Unfortunately, it only got worse.

Lori didn't pick them up the way she was supposed to, so they walked home in the rain with Lucy, Lana, Lola, and Lisa. They were soaked half way there, and when they finally got through the door, Lincoln was so exhausted from the day that he could barely make it up the stairs. Luan popped out of nowhere and asked him to listen to her new act, Luna badgered him to listen to her new song, Lori wanted to play video games, Leni, Lisa, Lola, disembodied heads spinning around, talking, talking, GOD, WHY WON'T THEY STOP TALKING?

In his and Johnny's closet room, Lincoln closed the door and wedged the back of a chair underneath the doorknob. Johnny stripped down to his underwear and crawled into bed. Lincoln took off his soggy clothes, put on a white T-shirt and a pair of lounge pants, and climbed the ladder to his bunk, flopping onto the mattress and making the frame shake. "This is stupid," he mumbled tiredly.

"You got that right," Johnny said. He was face down on his pillow and his voice came out muffled.

"It's not happening again," Lincoln said.

Pushing himself up on his arms, Johnny asked, "What do you mean?"

"I have a plan."

"Uh oh. That's dangerous."

Over the past three days, Lincoln had come to realize that living in the Loud house was a challenge. You couldn't just go to the bathroom or eat breakfast like a normal person. It took planning, skill, and execution. If you weren't on your game, you'd wind up last in line and hungry. He didn't want either one of those things anymore. It sucked that he had to approach every day life like a freaking battle plan, but you do what you gotta do.

"Yeah," Lincoln said, "it's dangerous...but not for us."

He grinned, and after a moment, Johnny started to grin too. "I hear you loud and clear. What'cha got?"

Lincoln told him, and he listened intently. "Alright," he said.

Tomorrow they would put their plan into action, but for now…

...they really needed a nap.

The next morning, Lincoln jerked awake to the cry of his phone's alarm. The room was dark save for a sliver of early light falling through the window. He rolled over, turned the phone off, and started to fall back asleep, but forced himself to sit up. His eyelids fought to close and his head felt light and swimmy, but he didn't have a single second to waste. He sat up, shook the sleep from his head like a wet dog, and scurried down the ladder. He knelt next to Johny and shook him awake. "Whaaa?" Johnny muttered.

"Come on," Lincoln said. "It's time to get up."

"Leeme alone."

"Dude, wake up."

He grabbed Johnny's shoulder and shook him as violently as he could. Johnny snapped up and tangled himself in the blankets. "Alright, alright," he said, "I'm awake."

Lincoln got up, went to the door, and eased it open, wincing at the rusty creak of the hinges. He stuck his head out and looked around. The hall was a pit of perfect blackness, every door closed tight. He listened and counted roughly a dozen sets of snoring lungs. He glanced over his shoulder, and Johnny was standing right there, shoulders slumped and chin lolling against his chest. Lincoln swatted his arm and he jumped. "Let's go."

Moving at a crouch, they made their way to the bathroom at the other end of the hall. Lincoln's heart pounded in his throat and his stomach reeled with nerves. He was sure that one of the Louds would rush out of their room and beat them to the punch by a millisecond, but they made it unmolested. Lincoln flicked the switch, flooding the bathroom with cold, white light, and locked the door behind him. "Alright," he said, "you brush your teeth and I'll shower. When you're done, we'll switch out."

Johnny knitted his brow. "How come you get to take the first shower?"

"Because it's my plan," Lincoln said.

"That's not fair."

Lincoln clenched his jaw. "You know, I could have left you and done this myself, but I brought you in out of the goodness of my own heart."

For a second, it looked like Johnny was going to argue, but he realized Lincoln was right and waved him off.

"Turn around," Lincoln said, "I don't want you seeing me."

"I don't want to see you," Johnny shot back and turned away.

Getting naked, Lincoln turned the water on, adjusted the temperature, and hopped in. After so many days of cold showers, the hot water felt heavenly on his body and he let out a shivery moan. "Dude, don't do that while I'm in here," Johnny said.

"I'm not," Lincoln said, "I'm just showering."

"Yeah? Sounds to me like you're doing something else."

Lincoln sighed. "Shut up."

While Johnny brushed, flossed, and gargled mouthwash, Lincoln lathered up with soap and rinsed off. When he was done, he wrapped the towel around himself and jumped out. Johnny took his place, and Lincoln went to the sink. He brushed, gargled (forget flossing, flossing is lame), and dressed. Steam filled the bathroom and didn't clear out until Johnny was dry and dressed.

"Alright," Lincoln said and took a deep breath, "let's get ready to face the music."

See, Lincoln was certain that the Loud girls would be mad at them for getting to the bathroom first and making them wait. He fully expected Lori and Lynn to chew him out, since they were always the first ones in. Something strange happened, though.

Namely, nothing.

They opened the door and left, and Lori, at the head of the line, went in after them without so much as a word.

Huh.

After putting their shoes on, Lincoln and Johnny went downstairs, getting there ahead of anyone else. Johnny helped Mr. Loud with breakfast - scrambled eggs, frozen sausage patties, and toast - so it would get done quicker. Since he was already there, Johnny did Mr. Loud a solid and helped him pack everyone's lunch.

They sat at the table and scarfed their food down, Lincoln watching his phone. Lori and Lynn were the first ones down, followed by Lana and Lucy. They each got a plate and sat at the table like nothing. Lana divided her attention between her food and a piece of paper. "I need help," sh finally huffed.

"What is it?" Lincoln asked.

"Math."

Lincoln helped her, and then helped Lori find her missing cellphone, which, as he suspected, was still on her nightstand. "Thanks, Linc," she said, "you're literally a lifesaver."

When they were finished, Lincoln and Johnny put their plates away and skedaddled before anyone else could ask them for help. "You guys want a ride?" Lori called after them.

Pfft!

"Nah, that's fine, thanks," Lincoln called over his shoulder. They could get to school faster on foot. Riding was nice but walking was way quicker because they didn't have to stop on the way or get sucked into balls of violence.

Lola and Luan came down the stairs and started to say something to them, but they rushed out the door and down the steps. "Good plan," Johnny said as they walked to school.

"It's like parkour," Lincoln said proudly, "just keep going and don't stop for anything."

They got to school with enough time to spare for a bull session in the cafeteria with Liam, Stella, and Sid.

At the end of the day, they walked home with Ronnie Anne. "You look better without that dumb paperbag on your head, lame-o," she said.

"I feel naked, lamette," Johnny confessed.

Like a sign from God, a plastic bag blew against Johnny's leg. He peeled it off and pulled it down over his head. "Ahhh, that's better."

"Dude, you look like Gary Oldman from Bram Stoker's Dracula."

Johnny shot him a dirty look. It was true. The bag dipped in the middle, giving him lumps on either side.

As soon as they got through the door, the Loud girls bombarded them. Lola wanted to have a tea party with Johnny, Lana wanted Lincoln to help her fix hers and Lola's Jeep, Luan, Luna, Lori, agggh.

Unlike yesterday, however, they had the energy to hang out.

"Alright," Lincoln said, "John, you take Lola, Lucy, Lynn, and Lisa. I got Lana, Lori, Leni, Luan, and Luna."

Johnny nodded. "Right."

Though they could be obnoxious and rude and a million other things, Lincoln loved hanging out with the Louds.

And for the first time, it occurred to him that he was almost happy that tornado destroyed his house.

THE END.