FicWad

A:N; Yuss. If you want to know the chicken song Gerard was playing later in this story, here's a link; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-iYBIsLFbKo Here's a math question; Me+ Lack of Sleep+ Boredom=__? Well, the answer is, THIS PIECE OF CRAP! I was bored!
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I stared at the blank sheet music in front of me. I have to compose music by our next concert, and I was the definition of uncreative. Nothing. Was. Working. I had a lack of sleep, and was grumpy, aggravated.
So when Gerard came in blasting a song about chickens with a happy face on, doing the chicken dance, I knew someone got into my red bull.
“RAY! DANCE WITH ME!” Gerard called happily, wandering the kitchen I was working in with his “wings” flapping vigorously. I slammed my head on the table. He was NO help.
“IMMA CHICKEN RAY!” Gerard sung, sounding like he was drunk. And he probably was.
“Gerard, What the heck has gotten into you?” I groaned. Not in the mood for this. Gerard looked calm for a second before responding;
“Chickens.” He stated it like it was the most obvious fact this world has ever known, staring at me like I was an idiot.
“Oh god, help me...” I groaned, as Gerard continued his stupid dance. To make matters worse, he jumped on the kitchen counter and started grabbing my papers.
“ NO, GERARD, NO-” I was cut off when Gerard threw my papers everywhere, then tried to keep them in the air for as long as possible, like a balloon. Gerard's radio was blasting the chicken song, and I covered my ears. What. The. Heck. Over the ruckus, I heard my phone ring. I checked my text.
FROM: Mikey
TEXT: Where the heck is my red bull! I had bought a whole pack yesterday. Any idea?
Oh. Well that was an explanation for Mikey. Made sense too. Perhaps it will wear off soon... Just got to wait it out. Stupid Gerard.
2 Hours Later...
“ I'M A GOOFY GOOBER YEAH” YOU'RE A GOOFY GOOBER YEAH!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. This was the last straw...
“GERARD! GET OUT OF HERE! I am Sick. And. Tired of you. I HATE YOU!” I yelled, tired of his antics. He had been annoying me for 2 hours straight. The look he gave me could only resemjble a kid getting coal on Christmas. Depressed. Maybe I took it too hard on him... He walked out of my apartment. I got back to work. My phone rang again; from Mikey.
FROM: MIKEY
TEXT: Hey! Guess what! I found out who drank my red bull. He's at my house. Help me...
I laughed and turned back to my sheet music, now inspired.