Well, the old lady sure looked like a bitch!
Just moments before Bob was going to say "fuck it!" and drop the (rotten) eggs, Frank yelled, "We're here!"
They'd stopped in front of a white house, with trim and shutters painted a pastel peachy color. Flower beds lay along the sides of the house and the lawn was neatly manicured, not a single dry spot or bit of crabgrass in sight. A stone bird bath stood in the center of the right side of the lawn, while the left contained several small shrubs.
A stone walkway lead from the perfect white picket fence that encircled the property, to the neatly painted front porch. It looked like something out of a soap opera, or maybe "Good Housekeeping", right down to the two new, expensive looking cars in the driveway that was off to one side of the house.
"This is where this old lady lives?" Bob asked in disbelief.
"Yup! Frank replied, jumping off Ray's back with ease. The taller man gave an audible sigh of relief. His kidneys were no longer going to be suffering. At least, that was in theory.
"Why we gotta do this?" Bob groused.
"Because she's one of those bitches who have a stick up their ass, and she treated me like shit!" Frank said in annoyance. Hadn't he payed attention before?
"Sounds good enough for me!" Mikey said, grabbing at the case of spoiled eggs that Bob had just set down. He opened the cooler, barely pausing to pull on a pair of rubber gloves before grabbing up a stink egg. He lobbed it at the house. It flew threw the air, seemingly in slow motion, before it cracked on the walkway with a sickeningly satisfying "SPLAT". Mikey never really was one for sports anyways.
Upon hearing this, everyone froze. But no one came out of the house. "Hell yeah, bro!" Gerard said, before he too grabbed a pair of gloves. Within a moment, Ray and Frank followed suit, and the boys were gleefully hurling the eggs at the house. Bob stood by with a disapproving look etched into the muscles of his face.
Soon enough, the house was covered in rotted egg insides, and stank to high heaven. But the fun would quickly come to an end.
They ran out of eggs to throw. They stripped off their gloves, tossing them into the cooler. They were all laughing, congratulating and patting each other on the back.
Before they could get going, however, the sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance, growing near, and the front door opened.
The old lady stepped out, in her bathrobe and curlers, screaming, "I called the cops on you hooligans!"
She sure did sound like a bitch!