Mikey's television prgrammes are probably the most boring ever. Frank and Ray set out to fix that, with a little help from Gerard and Bob.
"Yeah, but Mikey has the remote, and you know how he is with the remote..." Ray trailed off.
Frank scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion.
"But he's not, well, he's not exactly compatible with electrical stuff," Frank said.
It was Ray's turn to look confused. Frank rolled his eyes.
"Shutup, guys! I'm trying to watch TV!" Mikey yelled.
"Sorry," They mumbled emotionlessly.
"Or have you forgotten 'the toaster incident'?" Frank continued.
Realisation flooded Ray's face and he chuckled quietly to himself.
Frank smiled and turned his attention to the television, which was muttering on endlessly about cheetahs and various other wildlife.
Like a lightbulb going off in his head, Frank formed a plan.
"Watch this," he whispered to Ray.
Ray looked on silently as Frank slid across the sofa, and slithered off the edge, slowly closing the gap between him and the remote.
Mikey, however, totally engrossed in his programme, oblivious to the fact that he would soon have no remote.
Frank was now kneeling on the floor behind Mikey's armchair, anxiously looking over the armrest at the remote.
Just then, Bob walked in, leaning on the doorway.
"Watcha guys doing?" he said casually.
Frank furiously made hand gestures signalling Bob to not tell Mikey where he was.
"Watching TV," Ray answered, turning to Bob.
Bob nodded, and pointed at Frank curiously. Ray pointed to the remote and then the television.
Bob nodded again and smiled, walking over to the couch and sitting down near Ray.
"I'm here to watch the action," Bob whispered, laughing.
Ray laughed with him, and both settled their gazes on Frank, still kneeling behind the armchair.
Frank took a deep breath and crawled on to all fours. He gripped the carpet, edging foward towards the end of the armchair.
Staying low, he twisted himself into crouching position and peered up at the remote, lazily hanging slightly over the edge.
He readied himself, and took a breath again.
"This is an operation of military precison, huh?" he heard Bob whisper.
"Dude, he just wants to make sure he gets the frickin' remote," he heard Ray reply.
Frank saw Mikey shift over and he dived to the floor.
"Didn't I say shutup? I'm watching TV guys!" Mikey yelled.
"Whatever, unicorn boy," Bob yelled back.
"God, what frickin' idiots," Mikey said to himself, clearly annoyed. He settled himself on the side closest to the remote and swung his legs up on the spacious armchair.
Frank glared at Bob, who smirked at him. Ray looked at the remote deserately.
Frank, once again, picked himself up and twisted himself into crouching position.
He grabbed the remote, fumbling with it, and almost dropping it. He faintly heard Mikey's yells of protest as he ran to the safety of the couch. Frank seemed to fling his small body over to the couch and jump onto the soft cushions. He accidentally pressed a button and this got another yell from Mikey.
When he recovered from his flight of adrenaline, he cautiously looked up to see a fuming Mikey standing tall in front of him.
"Give the remote back," Mikey said, his voice laced with fury.
"I didn't know you cared so much about nature programmes," Frank laughed.
"Give it!" Mikey yelled, and lunged for the remote.
"Never!" Frank yelled back, diving onto Bob and wriggling off him, running out the door.
"Come back, you remote-stealing midget!" Mikey shouted, running after him.
"We better-" Ray started.
"Yeah," Bob said, grabbing Ray by the arm and leading him to the source of all the screaming and shouting.
"I never get to watch these things!" Mikey shouted, grasping for the remote, which was hidden in Frank's grasp behind his back.
"So? Nobody else wants to!" Frank retorted.
"So? I want to and that's what matters to me!" Mikey yelled pointing furiously to himself.
"Dude, that show seriously sucked," Bob said, running into the kitchen.
"Not now Bob!" Mikey shouted at him.
"But-" Ray started.
"I have coffee, bitches!" Gerard yelled, strutting flamboyantly into the hallway, carrying a tray of coffee cups.
The entire scene in the kitchen froze.
Gerard balanced the tray in one hand, and took his sunglasses off with the other.
"Hey! Where my bitches at?"
"Kitchen," Bob yelled to Gerard.
Gerard walked in, humming to himself.
He set the tray down, took a cup at random, taking a swig of the caffeine-fuelled hot liquid and sighed.
"Ah, nothing like caffeine at," He paused to look at the time. "Three-fifteen in the afternoon,"
He looked at the guys.
Bob and Ray, standing near Mikey, evidently there to be ready to restrain him from attacking Frank, who was holding the remote behind his back.
"What's going on?"
Mikey glared at Frank.
"He stole the remote while I was watching the show about cheetahs and shit,"
Gerard looked at Frank quizzically.
Frank smiled helplessly.
"In his defence, that show frickin' sucked," Ray said.
"It's educational!" Mikey spat.
The four men laughed.
"Yeah, and you really need education!" Bob laughed.
"Especially about toasters," Ray said, laughing.
"Okay, that's enough guys," Gerard interrupted.
"I want to watch my show!" Mikey protested, folding his arms and pouting.
"His show sucks!" Ray, Bob and Frank protested.
"I think we've established that his show, indeed sucks," Gerard started.
"But-" Mikey interrupted.
"I'm talking, Mikey." Gerard said flatly.
"No shit? I thought you were throwing up words," Frank said sarcastically.
Everyone glared at Frank.
"Do go on, Gerard," Frank mumbled.
"Anyway," Gerard paused, looking at Frank. "Mikey, no show for you. Everyone else, I'm picking what to watch. Now, I got you guys your frickin' coffee, now drink it!" Gerard ordered, swiping the remote off Frank and strutting into the living room.
"Well, I just hope he hasn't got your taste in television, Mikes," Ray said, grabbing his coffee and following Gerard into the living room.