Where'd You Go? (Track Twelve, III), chapter 2
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"She's escaping!" Tré bellowed as he lurched to his feet. Shrieking with laughter, Wren raced into the bathroom and slammed the door. Quickly locking it, she crowed,
"Hah! Can't do anything now."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Mike called back. In record time, Wren completed her bathroom duties. As she finished brushing her peroxide blonde hair, she asked,
"Why do I need to get up?"
"'Cause today's our gig," Billie Joe replied through the door.
"Yeah, so? You've had them before. I've been to most of them, if not all."
"Well," Tré sounded as if he was talking to a very young and very stupid child. "This is our first gig with you as official roadie."
"Roadie? Since when?" Wren started brushing her teeth.
"Since we decided that you helped carry our shit all the time so, that makes you a roadie," Mike responded.
There was a click, and Wren saw the doorknob jump. "Knew there was I reason for broken sticks," Tré commented thoughtfully.
"Hurry up already," Billie Joe's voice was extra whiney.
"Whatever for? Are you going to be performing at-" Wren checked her watch. "Ten thirty seven in the morning?"
"If you'd gotten up the first two times I called, we wouldn't have to hurry. And, no we don't have a gig right now." Billie Joe said. Mike piped up,
"You gotta hurry 'cause we're fucking bored."
Before Wren could respond, Tré and Billie Joe started chanting the theme to Jaws. The door opened just a bit, then a bit more. Like a dorsal fin sideways, Mike's nose, followed by his head, poked through. "Done yet?" Wren trotted to the door and leaned on it, trapping him.
"Hey!" he grunted. "I'm stuck."
"Imagine that," Wren said in false surprise. Man, why does being this close to him make me feel like I'm completely sloshed?
"Maybe you should learn about knocking." Figuring any excuse was a good excuse, Wren put her hand on his head.
"Ah, guys, you gotta help me, she's going for my hair!" False panic made his voice tremble and slide upwards. He bared his teeth and actually looked fierce. The expression died as he exclaimed, "Get your hands the Hell off my ass! Billie, you dumb shit, shove on the door!"
"If you're gonna act like that," Billie Joe sounded offended. "Maybe we'll just leave."
This whole thing was a game. Wren knew she was no match for Mike's strength. If he wanted to, he could push open the door himself. "Maybe I should braid it," she mused as she threateningly twitched her fingers. Mike craned his neck to look at her.
"Nah, not my style. I'll let you put in a few if-" There was boom, and the door flew open. Wren landed on her back, Mike on top of her, and Billie Joe and Tré on top of him.
"Ah, God," Wren grumbled, half out of breath, "I think I just died."
Considering my rather intriguing position, this could be heaven. Billie Joe and Tré got up, chuckling. Tré cocked his head. "Geeze Mike, were you really that horny? Jumping on her like that." He shook his head, making tsk tsk noises. Mike tried to get up, but Billie Joe knelt and drilled his elbow into the small of Mike's back. With a yelp, Mike flopped back down on Wren. Well, isn't this just getting more and more awkward, she thought crazily. Tré asked,
"Anyone feel up to an orgy?"
Very dirty and very Dirnt-y ideas flickered naughtily through Wren's mind before she could stop them. Mike looked down at her and mouthed, One. Two. "Three!" She braced her arms on his bare shoulders and propelled him upwards as he pushed off from the floor with his hands.
"DIE!" yelled Wren and she dove at Billie Joe. "You are soooo going to get it!" With that she began to tickle him mercilessly. Mike and Tré watched for about a total of .01 seconds before joining in.
"God stop. Oh, stop. Stop," the victim wheezed as tears came to his eyes. Feeling compassionate, Wren listened to his pleas and relented. The other two had no such thoughts and continued on for a bit until Billie Joe could not breathe period, before they stopped.
"Fine then," she asked as he gasped on the linoleum. "Fine, where are we going or what are we doing?"
"To the Batmobile, away!" Tré leaped up and ran out the door.
"First one in's a rotten egg," Mike challenged as he followed suit.
"Shotgun!" Billie Joe yelled as he scrambled to his feet and sprinted out.
"Hah! Can't do anything now."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Mike called back. In record time, Wren completed her bathroom duties. As she finished brushing her peroxide blonde hair, she asked,
"Why do I need to get up?"
"'Cause today's our gig," Billie Joe replied through the door.
"Yeah, so? You've had them before. I've been to most of them, if not all."
"Well," Tré sounded as if he was talking to a very young and very stupid child. "This is our first gig with you as official roadie."
"Roadie? Since when?" Wren started brushing her teeth.
"Since we decided that you helped carry our shit all the time so, that makes you a roadie," Mike responded.
There was a click, and Wren saw the doorknob jump. "Knew there was I reason for broken sticks," Tré commented thoughtfully.
"Hurry up already," Billie Joe's voice was extra whiney.
"Whatever for? Are you going to be performing at-" Wren checked her watch. "Ten thirty seven in the morning?"
"If you'd gotten up the first two times I called, we wouldn't have to hurry. And, no we don't have a gig right now." Billie Joe said. Mike piped up,
"You gotta hurry 'cause we're fucking bored."
Before Wren could respond, Tré and Billie Joe started chanting the theme to Jaws. The door opened just a bit, then a bit more. Like a dorsal fin sideways, Mike's nose, followed by his head, poked through. "Done yet?" Wren trotted to the door and leaned on it, trapping him.
"Hey!" he grunted. "I'm stuck."
"Imagine that," Wren said in false surprise. Man, why does being this close to him make me feel like I'm completely sloshed?
"Maybe you should learn about knocking." Figuring any excuse was a good excuse, Wren put her hand on his head.
"Ah, guys, you gotta help me, she's going for my hair!" False panic made his voice tremble and slide upwards. He bared his teeth and actually looked fierce. The expression died as he exclaimed, "Get your hands the Hell off my ass! Billie, you dumb shit, shove on the door!"
"If you're gonna act like that," Billie Joe sounded offended. "Maybe we'll just leave."
This whole thing was a game. Wren knew she was no match for Mike's strength. If he wanted to, he could push open the door himself. "Maybe I should braid it," she mused as she threateningly twitched her fingers. Mike craned his neck to look at her.
"Nah, not my style. I'll let you put in a few if-" There was boom, and the door flew open. Wren landed on her back, Mike on top of her, and Billie Joe and Tré on top of him.
"Ah, God," Wren grumbled, half out of breath, "I think I just died."
Considering my rather intriguing position, this could be heaven. Billie Joe and Tré got up, chuckling. Tré cocked his head. "Geeze Mike, were you really that horny? Jumping on her like that." He shook his head, making tsk tsk noises. Mike tried to get up, but Billie Joe knelt and drilled his elbow into the small of Mike's back. With a yelp, Mike flopped back down on Wren. Well, isn't this just getting more and more awkward, she thought crazily. Tré asked,
"Anyone feel up to an orgy?"
Very dirty and very Dirnt-y ideas flickered naughtily through Wren's mind before she could stop them. Mike looked down at her and mouthed, One. Two. "Three!" She braced her arms on his bare shoulders and propelled him upwards as he pushed off from the floor with his hands.
"DIE!" yelled Wren and she dove at Billie Joe. "You are soooo going to get it!" With that she began to tickle him mercilessly. Mike and Tré watched for about a total of .01 seconds before joining in.
"God stop. Oh, stop. Stop," the victim wheezed as tears came to his eyes. Feeling compassionate, Wren listened to his pleas and relented. The other two had no such thoughts and continued on for a bit until Billie Joe could not breathe period, before they stopped.
"Fine then," she asked as he gasped on the linoleum. "Fine, where are we going or what are we doing?"
"To the Batmobile, away!" Tré leaped up and ran out the door.
"First one in's a rotten egg," Mike challenged as he followed suit.
"Shotgun!" Billie Joe yelled as he scrambled to his feet and sprinted out.
