Senseless violence solves nothing, but it makes a good story line.
"Gah!" Joe yelled jumping into the pool, almost landing on a bunch of children. They screamed as they scrambled away from the man child. Joe screamed as he did a decent sized belly flop.
The kids resurfaced, giggling at Joe.
"Hey kids! Watch out!" Tre' yelled and jumped.
Again, the kids ran from the other man child and watched, gleefully, as Tre' landed on top of Joe.
"Watching Joe get hurt for the entertainment of others is fun," Billie Joe admitted from the hot tub with a smirk.
"Get out of the hot tub, Armstrong," Pete demanded, slicking his hair back.
"This is a public place, Wentz," Billie Joe pointed out, making himself comfortable in front of a jet.
"Come on, Pete. We can share," Stoop replied stepping in next to Billie.
Pete frowned and narrowed his eyes at Billie Joe. NO ONE made him share.
"Aren't you coming in, Pete?" Billie Joe asked, overly nice, patting the water next to him.
Pete's left eye twitched.
"Plenty of room..." he continued, starting to inch over, taking up as much room as possible.
Quit mocking me!
As Billie Joe continued to inch over, he found himself on top of Andy.
"Hi," Andy said.
Startled, Billie moved back to his original spot.
"Pete, honey, that vein in your forehead is popping out again," Stoop pointed out.
Pete grumbled and got in stubbornly. He wasn't happy about it.
Once Pete got in, everyone in the hot tub realized they had nothing to talk about, so there was a looooong, awkward, silence until Pete finally ventured, "So... anyone seen, like, any good movies lately?"
Billie Joe looked at Pete like he'd spoken some alien language.
"Did you see that last episode of Lost?"
Billie Joe blinked at him.
"Read any good..."
Billie Joe cut him off, "You're bad at this 'small talk' thing. Aren't you?"
Pete frowned. "It'd work if you'd answer my fucking questions!"
"You know what, Pete? Shut up!"
Pete opened his mouth to tell Billie Joe to quit breathing his air, when he was interrupted by a loud Patrick cry and a shaken looking Emma hiding her face in her hands.
"Why'd you fucking hit me?" Patrick cried angrily; covering his right eye with both hands.
"I thought you were Pete!" Emma explained. "Why were touching my butt?"
"I don't have my glasses on. I can't see! That really hurt!"
Emma gently touched his arm. "Come on, I'll help you get some ice."
Patrick pulled away. "Don't touch me!"
Pete, presented with an opportunity to get out of the hot tub (and away from Billie Joe), leaped out to help his injured friend, "Come on, Pat. I'll help."
Patrick whimpered as he let Pete lead him out of the pool area.
Emma, her face red, grabbed her towel and ran back to her room.
"Em, wait!" Billie got up and followed her.
Emma barged into her room to find Dirnt and Mike watching T.V. They didn't have to ask what was wrong because she told them. "I punched Patrick... in the eye."
"Really? Cool," Mike replied, not really caring.
"What'd he do to deserve that?" Dirnt asked.
"He touched my butt."
"I don't think he did it on purpose, but Pete's always..."
Meanwhile, in Pete's room
Patrick held a bag of ice to his eye. "Why do you have to go and grab Emma's ass all the time? You know she doesn't like it!"
Pete stuck his face inches away from Patrick's, "Oh yeah? Then why'd you touch it, hm?"
Patrick frowned. "I told you, I couldn't see."
Back in Emma's room
"... I wanted to punch Pete out so he'd stop, but I turned around and, hello, it was Patrick! I hit Patrick!"
"So?" Mike admitted.
Emma grabbed Mike and shook him. "You don't hit Patrick!" she let go, looked at her feet and sniffed. "I feel really bad."
"Ah, I think Emma feels really bad. You know what she's like. She's all up with that 'peace and love' Hippy crap. Now, what did I tell you to say if anyone asks about your eye?" Pete exclaimed.
"You should see the other guy," Patrick moaned.