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

Gopherfish Wormwood Entrails

by ZippersOverYou 6 reviews

laa dee do

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG - Genres: Humor, Parody, Romance - Published: 2006-12-18 - Updated: 2006-12-19 - 1303 words

---/Let's Take Look Back, Shall We?/---

6:00 and I'd already unpacked everything I could possibly need: toothbrush, combs, clothes, my Gameboy and, most importantly, my herd of hats.

The room around me was quite large, awkwardly quiet and, overall, annoyingly empty. One wall was entirely made up of glass and I felt like I could get assassinated Martin Luther King Jr. style if I stood on the balcony for too long but who would possibly want to assassinate lil' ol' Patrick? Don't answer that, Patrick Stump, just don't.

Elaborating on the emptiness, I felt it would pass plenty of time if I recapped where everyone was: Captain Wentz was getting his own little taste of Trohmania loudly enough for me to hear from two doors down and the thought of those kids who can hear their parents in the bedroom even through the pillow pressed at a suffocating level over their ears ran through my blonde head and I couldn't help but shiver.

Andy the Incredible Vegan was teaching his sister all about his art and was still quieter than Joe and Pete.

In my hands, thumb twiddled over and under thumb as I readjusted myself on the intruding hem of the large, white mattress. Sighing, I pressed the balls of my soles to the floor and shoved my motionless hands into the pockets of the newest Patrick jeans.

Bored out of my mind, worse than that, bored out of my hat, I threw my small, teensy hands through the unwashed landfill I called hair and my lungs breathed heavily in order to counteract the inertia of the silence. Angry at the intensity of my lameness, I threw open the door and made up my mind to see what Pete-mania was all about.

Before I had the chance to make it there, a slightly ajar door caught the lens of my glasses.

Staring through the slight crack of the door just like in one of Pete's lyrics, I noted a bombshell sitting on the couch.

The strange feeling of being a serial killer in an eighties horror flick bit me right on the arm so from the outside, I knocked on wood.

In a reflexive sense, she turned to the door and detached her ruby lips from the maw of her long sleeve to call,


Slightly thrown off my rocker, I replied,


"What's the password?"

"Uhh...gopherfish wormwood entrails?"

"Damn, you are good."

Smiling, I pushed the door open and stepped with light feet inside. Her room was exactly like mine but the furniture was skewed in various spots around the room. The couch supporting her was crooked and had taken the place of the bed in front of the glaring TV.

She sat with her knees covering her chest and I silently argued the age-old argument about which is sexier, what you see or what you don't see.

Putting the crazy argument off, I stood next to the arm of the couch and shoved my hands deep into my pockets.

Colorfully, the TV played the version of 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' that featured Jim Carrey as the Grinch.

Throwing herself away from me, she patted the cushion that was recently vacated,

"Siddown, Patrick. Watch it with me, you can protect me in the scary parts."

I smiled and plopped onto the couch,

"What scary parts?"

"I was just lying to get you to watch it with me. There are no scary parts I know of."

You don't have to lie to me, I'd watch it with you if the world was collapsing. Instead of saying that pathetic excuse for a line, I just smiled at her and leaned back on the fluffy recently fixed hotel couch.

Every few minutes and every few slightly overdone jokes, she'd giggle and my heart would almost burst with happiness.

I could just tell that if I was exposed to her for too long, I'd get addicted and that was not something I wanted to happen if various things didn't work out perfectly. She could very well become my new drug if I wasn't careful.

The movie was semi-close to being done and was at the point where Jim Carrey was stealing all the toys when she laid her pretty head to rest on my less-than-buff shoulder. My breathing slowed for a second as the sweet smell of peaches floated from her hair to my face.

Trying desperately not to ruin the moment like I always did, I whipped my arm out from under her and placed it over her opposing shoulder, feeling the (so-called) muscles in my shoulder stretch. As if she could read my thoughts, she scooted closer to me and the non-existent muscles relaxed over her as if it were form fitting.

It was like she was trying to put me on the spot because once I got comfortable with my arm over her as if we were two teenagers on our first date at the movies, she snaked her arm around the small of my back and held it on my left hip bone.

God, what did this all mean? Did she like me? Was she just lonely? It was these questions that kept my hips low and my tongue shut.

Above anything, I tried to keep my breathing steady seeing as how that same set of lungs was currently supporting her head.

This was all going so fast...were we going out? Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and just listened to her soft genuine laugh. Let's just see...

It hit me that this might me the only time I could have this kind of situation with Jess so I did my best to take a mental picture of the situation. Somehow the image of me asking her to take a professional picture of the scene floated through like a whim.

Coming back into this world, I just caught the big kissing-filled finale and couldn't help but look down at her. A sweet smile was plastered on her face like a snowman as the slight sheen of tears lined her green globes.

Our eyes met as she pushed herself up in a way so she was face-level with myself. I gulped and wondered what now?.

Still smiling, she leaned forward and pressed her barely-chapped lips to my cheek and the feeling remained in such a way I wondered if it had left a mark.

"Merry Christmas, Patrick."

I couldn't help but laugh seeing as how it was currently August.

"Merry Christmas, Jess."

Annoyingly, the lights flickered on and off several times even though the two of us turned to see Joe standing mischievously by the doorway. He ran over happily and jumped onto the couch.

"Hey, guys, what's going on?"


"Good, Jess, wanna go shopping?"


"Yeah, for the Expo."

"I don't-"

"You see, Jess, the Expo actually has five shows: Pop, Rap, Rock, County and All Genres. We are going to the Pop, the Rap, the Rock and the All, but, you see, there's a trick. There's a sort of dress code. For the pop, you wear whatever the hell you woke up in or feeling like wearing, for the rock you grunge down, for the All you wear whatever and for the Rap show, you actually have to dress up. I'm not supposing you brought any fancy clothes?"

"I'm not supposing I own any fancy clothes."

"That's it, we're going shopping."


"Yes, right now. Come on, get in the car."

Standing up, I brought myself to Joe's attention,

"Mind if I tag along?"

Jess scrunched her face at me,

"You want to go shopping, Patrick?"

/If the world were crumbling.../

"Better than sitting here by myself."

Joe tugged on her arm overdramatically,

"Yeah, really. Andy, Pete and Mel have already left."


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