FicWad

"So, here, we have a dilemma." Axl decided, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Man, this sucks…" Izzy commented, crossing his arms.

"You know," Slash pointed out, "It is kind of your fault, in the first place."

"How?!" Axl demanded, a little too defensively.

"YOU BROKE HIS ARM IN THE FIRST PLACE."

Axl muttered an argument, which probably would have sounded very stupid if anyone had heard it, and walked over to collapse on the couch.

In all truthfulness, he HAD broke Steven's arm. On the other hand, He mentally defended, How was I supposed to remember that we had a concert in two days? Nobody's mentioned it in a long time…

Luckily, it had only occurred to Slash and Duff, the less violent ones, that they had gone through the entire search the day before BECAUSE they needed Steven playing with them, and then they went and broke his arm right afterwards… Well, they hadn't, Axl had, but they could have stopped him… Theoretically.

"Well, now what are we supposed to do?!" Axl suddenly demanded, punching the wall… And leaving a hole the size of his fist in it.

"Nice going, Ax." Izzy commented, staring blankly.

"Er… Well… Steven can fix this, as punishment for breaking his arm." Axl decided, withdrawing his hand and brushing some plaster off it.

"I'm sorry…" Steven muttered for probably the thirtieth time that day.

"You should be." Axl snapped.

Slash walked over calmly… And punched Axl in the face, sending him flying across the room and into the wall, leaving a much bigger hole than last time. Duff and Izzy immediately backed up. Slash's anger was a rare, but EXTREMELY dangerous thing.

However, he appeared to be calm again as he walked over and patted Steven on the head.

"Hey, it's okay." He assured the unhappy drummer. "You didn't do anything wrong, Axl did. We're not mad at you at all." His tone darkened as he glared over at Izzy and Duff with flaming eyes. "RIGHT?"

"Oh, of course we're not mad!" Duff exclaimed, a little too quickly.

"Yeah, get better soon, Steven." Izzy added. All the while, the two were stealing glances at Slash, infinitely happy to see that he didn't seem violent at the moment.

"Whatever." Axl muttered, jumping out of the wall, covered from head to toe in white powder.

"The only thing," Duff finally said, being the least scared of Slash out of everyone in the band, "Is that we are having a concert in two days, and whether we're mad at Steven or not, we do need someone to fill in for him. Any ideas?"

“Ooh! Ooh!!!” Axl started waving his hand frantically in the air. “I have an idea! I have an idea!!!”

“Anybody else?” Duff pressed, looking pleadingly around the room.

“PICK ME!!! PICK ME!!!” Axl continued yelling, jumping up and down on the couch and spreading the powdery plaster around at the same time.

“Alright, what is it, Axl?” Duff finally caved, glancing at the singer and hoping this idea wouldn’t be as bad as usual.

“Ahem.” Axl cleared his throat, a little too dramatically. “May I introduce to you… Buckethead!!!”

Dead silence.

“… Buckethead?” Axl looked around the room, seemingly confused.

“Who’s Buckethead?” Slash asked, wondering if he really wanted to know.

“He’s probably my best friend ever.” Noting Izzy’s tear-filled eyes and completely hurt expression, Axl added quickly, “Other than you, of course, Iz.”

“Well, where is he?” Duff finally asked.

“Er… I’m sure I put him somewhere around…” Axl trailed off, then suddenly snapped his fingers. “Oh! I remember!”

The rest of the band stared in absolute wonder as Axl hurried over to the fridge, but their eyes widened in shock and terror as he threw open the door and pulled out somebody wearing a white mask and yellow raincoat, with a large KFC bucket on his head.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Duff demanded, running over to the shivering, gasping, unfortunate creature.

“Oh…” Izzy looked thoughtful. “So that’s what that thing was… And here I thought it was leftover casserole.”

“Er… Is it… He… Alive?” Slash finally managed to say, leaning over the thing known as Buckethead.

It… Or he, depending on your religious beliefs(?), held up a hand with a thumbs-up to symbolize that he was, in fact, alive… If barely.

“You put your friend in the fridge?!” Duff demanded angrily, very obviously twitching.

“Well, yeah!” Axl exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “What if he had gone bad?!”

“Gone bad?” Slash and Duff repeated at the same time, staring blankly.

“You know, spoiled.” Axl explained. “Like that milk I left out on the counter for a week straight while you two and Izzy were away.”

“Oh, that was you?” Izzy asked, tilting his head to the side. “And here I beat the hell out of Steven for it… Whoops.”

“The world hates me…” Steven decided, sitting in the corner of the room.

“The point is,” Duff continued, glaring at Axl, “Is that you do NOT lock your friends in the fridge, understand?”

“… But what if they spoil?” Axl asked, eyes widening.

Duff promptly tackled Axl, violently strangling him as they fell to the ground. Of course, this did put them in an interesting position, Duff lying on top of Axl, and for a second he actually forgot what he was doing as his face went completely red.

Axl, of course, was completely oblivious as to why the blonde had gotten off of him so quickly and run to the other side of the room, glancing apologetically at Slash who just flashed a half-hearted smile.

He was also oblivious as to why Izzy had his chainsaw out, glaring at Duff with flaming red eyes.

“… Anyway,” The red-head continued, deciding he didn’t care all that much, “Who’s up for Buckethead playing with us?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Izzy replied quickly, turning on the chainsaw as Duff inched toward the door, murmuring and agreement.

“Great!” Axl smiled. “Then he’ll be living with us from now on!”

Of course, due to the chase that started directly afterwards, nobody noticed that last part.