Mikey get's his results, and regrets writing some things down! PG for some language.
PS: Thank you to Gerardwayiscute, monstrice901 and CosmicZombie for reviewing on the other part, I love you guys to saturn and back. You'll get the saturn joke after reading. And you will not be disappointed when you find out what, or who, can be found there x) AND if you guys could check out my (slightly sad, I guess) poemy thing I wrote, I would be ever so grateful. Bye!
“Gerard, you can read out whoever’s you’ve got first” Frank beamed.
‘Fine. Let’s get this done and out the way with. This is Mikey’s one.”
Mikey’s eyes widened, and he shuffled closer. “Hurry up, tell me!” he urged his brother to continue. Inside he was seriously wishing he hadn’t written (in a sleepy daze) Ray’s name down…
“You’re married to Ray,”
Fuck, he thought. The others all cheered him and cracked up laughing, whereas Ray’s eyes bugged out his head.
“And why, may I ask Mikey, did you put MY name down on there?!” The fro master asked the slowly dying of embarrassment Mikey.
“Oh god. I didn’t KNOW I was writing it, I was tired! It could have been Gerard for all I knew-“
“Ewww!” Gerard said from across the room. “Incest much?” He said, making vomiting actions and noises from where he was leant up against Frank’s leg.
“Says he who tried snogging me. With tongues!” Mikey cried. But then he remembered, he had promised Gerard he would never say anything about that. To anyone. Ever.
“Omigod. You twattybastardyfuckingtwat. You PROMISED you wouldn’t tell anyone about that! But, if we’re so keen on spilling secrets about each other, then why don’t I tell them about that time-“
“OKAY. Guys, let’s carry on before this turns into some ‘who can spill the bitchiest secret’ match, kay?” Rays exasperated voice says. “Gerard, read out the rest please.”
“Uh. Fine. But tell him-” The redhead started.
“Now, Gerard.” Ray’s voice went all parental on him.
“Whatever. Mikey, AKA, twathead, will drive a … fuzzy wuzzy? van. Okay, what in the actual fucking universe is fuzzy wuzzy? This is seriously one of the colours you wrote down?”
“Obviously. Otherwise it wouldn’t BE there. Anyway, it’s a delightful shade of dark, kind of like salmon, pink, that if you transfer onto glass and-”
“You know what?” Gerard intervened before a whole DIY lecture came from his brother “I rest my case. Of COURSE it’s a shade of fucking pink that can be put onto glass. Of course. I should have KNOWN. Anyway, you will drive a,” He stretched out the word, “‘Fuzzy Wuzzy’ van.
“Good.” Ray said. “Now I won’t feel bad when I chuck him out of our five story mansion house that has perfectly manicured grass and-”
Gerard cut him off. “You live in a shack.”
“How the fuck can we afford a fuzzy wuzzy van and not a decent shed?” Ray exclaimed.
“I don’t think a shack is a shed … I thought it was a broken shed.” Frank said, deep in thought, staring up at the tour bus lounge ceiling.
“Exactly, a shed either way douche.”
“There is actually a huge difference between a broken one and a not broken one. For starters, the broken ones are a ton cheaper.” Frank said, nodding his head wisely.
“What-the-fuck-ever. Who cares if or not a shack is a shed? The point is, this paper says that Mikey and Ray will SHARE a shack. Broken or not.” Gerard, slightly annoyed, said. “Now please, can I finish?”
‘Fines’ were mumbled from the Frank and Ray, so Gerard continued.
“Good. Now, you guys will have 70 kids,”
“How on earth-“
“Fuck off ray” Gerard shouted. “I am not yet finished! God knows this will be the last time I play this. I sincerely hope Bandit does not grow up to be a extreme M.A.S.H’er.”
“Why? I thought women liked to cook, and mash potatoes?” Frank questioned.
“Says he who thinks M.A.S.H is an appropriate name for a game about future!” Gerard said. “Plus, LET ME FUCKING FINISH GUYS!”
“Ok, ok” Frank said. “You may continue.”
“Yes, and I don’t need to be told I can, either.” Gerard stated. “Okay, your shack is going to be located on Saturn-”
“How-” Ray began.
“DO NOT ARGUE WITH THIS FUCKING PIECE OF MOTHERFUCKING PAPER, OK?!” Gerard exploded.
Ray simply jumped back. He held his hands up to Gerard, surrendering to the cruel fate of the paper, and his and Mikey’s nonexistent future.
“And Mikey, dearest brother. You will take wise career movements that will land you as a…” He scoffed, and giggled before saying, “Male lap dancer!”
“What the actual name in fuckery is this?!” Mikey said, throwing himself back against the sofa. “I did not write that!”
A small giggle came from across the room, where none other then Frank was sitting, slumped against a table, a hysterical Gerard practically in his lap.
“What the hell did you do, Iero?” Mikey shouted, a look of pure disgust on his red face.
“Nothing” Laugh “Why do you assume” laugh “I had anything to do with it?” He finished, before going back to giggling into Gerard’s crimson hair.
“Maybe because you immediately laughed when you found out? That you are right now looking at me suspiciously? That you, YOU JUST DID IT OKAY? I KNOW these things! Plus, I am obviously not going to a be female lap dancer, and only you could make that mistake."
“Okay, okay. I did it. I crossed out pys…psych … whatever it was, and swapped it with that. But dude, seriously, it’s funny!” Frank told a fuming Mikey “It was a joke!” He added.
“It was a joke?!” Mikey exclaimed? “This is shameful! Do you see anyone laughing?!”
Frank looked around the room, seeing a dying Gerard in his own lap (laughing his head off) and a hysterical Ray, in the corner, slapping his hand on his knee.
“Okay okay, fine. But I’m not! And I’m gonna get you back, Iero!” Mikey warned, before stomping off to his seat on the sofas.
“Naww, lighten up Mikey mike mike.” Gerard cooed, still giggling. “We find out Ray’s next!”
Mikey groaned, before sitting up, and everyone gathered round on the sofas again.