Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Cobwebs On My Zipper

and I'll schnook you like Smokey

by ZippersOverYou 2 reviews

Start of something moo

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG - Genres: Humor, Parody, Romance - Published: 2006-12-14 - Updated: 2006-12-15 - 1140 words


/You look so good in blue...Watch you choke.../. Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner whisteled through my hand like a newly crafted flute as I counted the bags for the nillionth time. All of them sat, motionless, on the large flat sidewalk as Joe led Rebekah from the bus.

In my head, I imitated the luggage even though no one seemed to be fooled by the act. That's a switch...

The eight or so of us stood there, among our clothes and Jess' cameras in curious silence.

Rebekah itched her chin with a long pretty nail,

"Soo, what now?"

Slightly distracted by her '50's style nails, I barely noticed Patrick from the corner of my eye pull out a bright blue post-it from the bright blue post-it pad that'd been unused by their coffee maker for years. He was always so organized...

"All right, crew, the magical schedule of doom informs the Patrick that we now need to check into this hotel, right here."

Melissa cocked her head and let her long black locks bounce off her shoulder like an ice skater on a cliff,

"Are you kidding me? This is really a hotel?"

Her large brown eyes scanned the building curiously, searching for the common trademarks of a Chicago hotel. Taking my spinach-colored eyes from her, I understood completely as the structure entered my field of vision.

The building stood over too many stories for a lazy, ugly boy like me to sit there and count and used a gray paint job to blend into the city stereotype like a four-eyed high school freshman. Several balconies braved the nosebleed height with a solid physique.

Joe's manly hand came into contact with my fat face and slammed me into reality. Pretending to bite his round shoulder I listened to Patrick,

"Pete, dude, how many rooms did you book?"

"Four, you know," one for Mel and I, "one for Mel and Jess, one for Patrick, Andy and myself, one for Dirty, and one for-"

"Me an' my woman," Joe interjected from the crook of Rebekah's neck.

Jess piped up quietly,

"My woman and I."

Laughing at her, I slugged after the crowd inside the shiny glass doors of the ugly hotel.

The inside was nothing like the outerwear and could even be classified as ritzy. Even the lighting of the lobby had a golden tint that somehow drew focus to the unnatural smell. Flower vases were placed periodically around the room like the hand of an obsessive-compulsive feng shui master organized them.

I felt a pang of memories as I looked at the white woman with blonde hair and no cleavage behind the reception desk. I would have to spend some greenbacks from my money barrels to get something for Roberta.

The slight beanpole of a woman folded her hands like a very polite robot and smiled with fake lips and fake shines as we approached,

"Yes, sir, how may I help you?"

Propping my elbows on the counter, a small smirk tugging at my lips, I replied,

"Um, yeah, I made a reservation under 'Wentz'."

Her long, unattractive fingernails clicked over the letter and stared at the screen. The woman gave me a look I couldn't quite recognize before standing and sashaying over to the cabinet filled with boxes housing nothing but keys.

She pulled out four keys and placed them in my hand one-by-one with a strange tempo.

Politely I smiled at the blonde and turned back to my crew of luggage.

"Please, don't tell me we have to walk up stairs."

Patrick whined as his breath faltered from under the bags.

"Sorry, little buddy, but we got the presidential suites, which means-"

"High class, pinkies up, rock stars."

"Top floor, Joe. But that, too."

My blonde buddy started to cry from under the bag and I couldn't help but throw another small bag on top of him. I could just picture him sticking his tongue out at me as we all ascended the first stair.

Half a floor up, I felt a soft hand on my shoulder and a sweet voice in my ear,

"You know that receptionist was flirting with you."

From the body in front of me, I heard another female speak, but this one was Jess,

"She couldn't have been more obvious if she were trying, Pete."

"Was she flirting with me?"

"Dude, Pete, she winked at you."

"Did she? I didn't see that."

"Well, that's cause you're always lost in your own little world."

"Since when did this become 'gang up on Pete' day?"

"Nah, that's tomorrow, man. Got it in my phone and everything."

"Thanks, guys, I love you, too."

The mass of us clogged the stairs like a blocked artery with our massive amount of bags and body fat and the silence was only being fended off by our labored breathing caused by lack of exercise.

What seemed like hours later, we made it up to the four hotel rooms we would all be living in for the next week or so. Like I didn't want, Jess and Melissa placed their bags in the same room and so on.

The rooms itself were amazing. Not one thing was out of place, which I couldn't wait to completely vandalize with 'Pete was here' calling cards. As soon as I got in, I placed my laptop on charge and waited like a kid at Christmas for it to be done so I could continue abusing the Wi-Fi.

It took twenty minutes for everyone to make their rooms like 'home' and get comfortable. I would go in between rooms and chill with whomever resided in them.

For the scarce time I was in my own room, Andy hailed me,

"Dude, it's our first night here, we should go clubbing."

"Clubbing? But I didn't bring my good beating club."

"Smart ass, you wanna come or not?"

"Yeah, I'll come. Try and get everyone to come."

"We'll leave at 7, be ready or be square, Wentz."

"Oh, I will, Hurley, I will."

But I wasn't. It was 6:30 and I had been distracted by an open door. It all started when I was walking down the hall but Jess' door stood wide open and dark. Looking inside revealed a mass of moved furniture so the couch sat crookedly in front of the sole source of light, the TV.

The TV itself was playing the remade 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas', but that wasn't the most interesting part. No, not at all. The couch was far more interesting, or, at least Patrick thought so.

Jess lay on the couch with her blonde head on Patrick's buff chest. His arm was draped over her awkwardly and he looked like he was about to hyperventilate.

Sorry for the short chapter, kiddos, but I got a little rehashing for you soon (hopefully)
Sign up to rate and review this story