Finding The Perfect Girl (A Tre Cool Story), chapter 7
The painter had come in, so the house was a mess. Billie's room was painted over (white) so that there would be no more stains of God knows what on the walls.
Tre's and Mike's rooms had already been green-taped and were ready to go. There was a lot of leftover wall plaster so Tre was having fun with it in a creative way. He put it all over his face, making him look like a ghost, then jumped out of the hallway closet just as Billie was walking past.
"AAAAAAAHHH!" Billie screamed girlishly. "Fuck man, you scared the balls off me!" he said.
Tre grinned. "Just makin' sure you're still ticking, stoner," he said.
"Hey, you smoke dope too! AND lettuce!"
"Heh heh.. lettuce? That was only an imitation of Bush."
"Fine then, but you did a pretty good job of it."
"Hey!" Tre said. "That's not nice!" He suddenly had an idea. After all, the bucket of plaster was still in his hand. He scooped up a handful and slapped it in Billie's face. It looked like he had been doing things he shouldn't have been doing. "Billie, you're a very naughty boy. No dick sucking!" Tre said.
Billie laughed and wiped the plaster off his mouth. "No, that's Adrienne's job," he smiled devilishly.
"Man, you're just tryin' to make me jealous," Tre whined.
"Too bad."
Tre stuck out his tongue at Billie, plaster still on his face, and decided to talk to Mike. "Yo 'sup homie?" he said.
"Tre! I thought you had shaving cream all over your face. You look like JoJo the Dog Man!"
"Thanks." Tre rolled his eyes. "Am I always compared to people in the freak circus?"
"Well... you were a clown."
"So?"
"Well that makes you a freak," Mike smiled.
"Just because I'm very funny and like talking about my dick doesn't mean I'm a freak."
"Yes it does. And it makes you a rapist."
"You shouldn't call people freaks, it's not nice." he said in his nasal voice. "You should be in the Freak Hall Of Fame, mousy boy. What a large conk you have." Tre imitated a mouse squeaking.
"At least I don't walk around dressed like a prostitute, and I'm not the one who tells a 13-year-old she's hot."
"That was Billie!"
"No it wasn't."
"Well, she was!"
"Tre, she thought you were some sort of rapist."
Changing the subject, Tre said, "Is there a tail in those jeans, Mousy? Or is that just your dick? What about them, there ears you hide in your platty-blonde hair? And the whiskers you shave off every day?"
"Tre, that's stereotyping."
"Ohhhh, then you ARE a descendant from rodents! Billie, get the cheese, Mike's a mouse!" Tre shouted.
"Tre, I'm gonna kill you," Mike growled.
"I doubt that, Mousy. I could stomp on you and you would be dead."
"Tre, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Mike hollered.
All of a sudden Billie came in. "Do I have to always be a mommy to you guys?"
Tre said, "Yes," and sucked his thumb.
"Quit being babies. And Tre, don't call Mike a mouse."
"Even though he looks like one?"
"HEY!" Mike said.
"Yes, even if he looks like one," Billie winked at Mike, then left to go help with the painting.
By the next week, Billie's room was fully painted, and Tre's and Mike's were up. They had been informed that Cloe wasn't coming until another week, so they rushed their painting. Soon, their rooms looked awesome, fully finished, and the hallways and living room were repainted. Even the bathroom was different.
"Yesss!" Billie said. "We're done!"
The painter, exhausted-looking and covered in paint, said, "Umm, mister, you still have to pay me. It's $1,200."
"WHAT?! Oh shit... one grand? Damn, this is gonna cut our concert prop money."
"Sorry, but it's final," the painter said.
"Fine, I'll give you a cheque," Billie scribbled a cheque for $1,200 on a cheque and handed it to the painter. "Now get out of here, money hog!" He ushered the painter out the door.
Cloe was coming! Billie and Mike were really excited, and couldn't wait to see what Tre would think. And as a plus, their rooms and the rest of the house were all painted and clean to give a good impression. She would be meeting them at their next concert, that Wednesday, and then come home with the boys to hang out.
What a great idea it was.
Tre's and Mike's rooms had already been green-taped and were ready to go. There was a lot of leftover wall plaster so Tre was having fun with it in a creative way. He put it all over his face, making him look like a ghost, then jumped out of the hallway closet just as Billie was walking past.
"AAAAAAAHHH!" Billie screamed girlishly. "Fuck man, you scared the balls off me!" he said.
Tre grinned. "Just makin' sure you're still ticking, stoner," he said.
"Hey, you smoke dope too! AND lettuce!"
"Heh heh.. lettuce? That was only an imitation of Bush."
"Fine then, but you did a pretty good job of it."
"Hey!" Tre said. "That's not nice!" He suddenly had an idea. After all, the bucket of plaster was still in his hand. He scooped up a handful and slapped it in Billie's face. It looked like he had been doing things he shouldn't have been doing. "Billie, you're a very naughty boy. No dick sucking!" Tre said.
Billie laughed and wiped the plaster off his mouth. "No, that's Adrienne's job," he smiled devilishly.
"Man, you're just tryin' to make me jealous," Tre whined.
"Too bad."
Tre stuck out his tongue at Billie, plaster still on his face, and decided to talk to Mike. "Yo 'sup homie?" he said.
"Tre! I thought you had shaving cream all over your face. You look like JoJo the Dog Man!"
"Thanks." Tre rolled his eyes. "Am I always compared to people in the freak circus?"
"Well... you were a clown."
"So?"
"Well that makes you a freak," Mike smiled.
"Just because I'm very funny and like talking about my dick doesn't mean I'm a freak."
"Yes it does. And it makes you a rapist."
"You shouldn't call people freaks, it's not nice." he said in his nasal voice. "You should be in the Freak Hall Of Fame, mousy boy. What a large conk you have." Tre imitated a mouse squeaking.
"At least I don't walk around dressed like a prostitute, and I'm not the one who tells a 13-year-old she's hot."
"That was Billie!"
"No it wasn't."
"Well, she was!"
"Tre, she thought you were some sort of rapist."
Changing the subject, Tre said, "Is there a tail in those jeans, Mousy? Or is that just your dick? What about them, there ears you hide in your platty-blonde hair? And the whiskers you shave off every day?"
"Tre, that's stereotyping."
"Ohhhh, then you ARE a descendant from rodents! Billie, get the cheese, Mike's a mouse!" Tre shouted.
"Tre, I'm gonna kill you," Mike growled.
"I doubt that, Mousy. I could stomp on you and you would be dead."
"Tre, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Mike hollered.
All of a sudden Billie came in. "Do I have to always be a mommy to you guys?"
Tre said, "Yes," and sucked his thumb.
"Quit being babies. And Tre, don't call Mike a mouse."
"Even though he looks like one?"
"HEY!" Mike said.
"Yes, even if he looks like one," Billie winked at Mike, then left to go help with the painting.
By the next week, Billie's room was fully painted, and Tre's and Mike's were up. They had been informed that Cloe wasn't coming until another week, so they rushed their painting. Soon, their rooms looked awesome, fully finished, and the hallways and living room were repainted. Even the bathroom was different.
"Yesss!" Billie said. "We're done!"
The painter, exhausted-looking and covered in paint, said, "Umm, mister, you still have to pay me. It's $1,200."
"WHAT?! Oh shit... one grand? Damn, this is gonna cut our concert prop money."
"Sorry, but it's final," the painter said.
"Fine, I'll give you a cheque," Billie scribbled a cheque for $1,200 on a cheque and handed it to the painter. "Now get out of here, money hog!" He ushered the painter out the door.
Cloe was coming! Billie and Mike were really excited, and couldn't wait to see what Tre would think. And as a plus, their rooms and the rest of the house were all painted and clean to give a good impression. She would be meeting them at their next concert, that Wednesday, and then come home with the boys to hang out.
What a great idea it was.
