FicWad

Chapter Six: Hey! No Hobos Allowed!
"It says to add two eggs in now!"

"Well you added too much flour, so we have to start over!"

"What the hell is vanilla extract?"

"Stop being so loud! You're gonna wake Ray up!"

Frankie and Mikey's bitching didn't awaken Ray, but it did, however, awaken Bob. Like anyone cared. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before changing out of his potentially embarrassing Clifford pajamas and turning off the newER I Am Ghost CD that had been quietly playing on repeat the entire night from the iHome he had received from his grandmother for his birthday. He pulled back the little green curtain on his bunk that gave him what little privacy he had on this bus, and after maneuvering his way to the bathroom and back, he joined Frankie and Mikey in the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" he asked them, barely able to contain his laughter at the baking mess they both had made all over their new BLACK clothes.

Mikey was busy pouring an odd-smelling concoction into a baking pan, so Frankie answered. "We're making a 'We're Sorry' cake for Gerard," he blushed. "Could you look out that window and make sure he's still asleep?"

At least they were letting him do SOMETHING, even if it was GERARD-RELATED. Bob nodded and turned halfway to look out the big ass window. Gerard was still asleep, but there was a group of people around him.

Bob's good-natured side first went "Oh no! Gerard!" 'til his EVIL side took over and went. "Hell yes. Why kill Mikey next with Gerard so vulnerable?"

"He is," bob told Gerard's brother and Gerard's not-brother before trotting out of the STATIONARY bus.

As Bob got closer to the cluster of men, his plan thickened. He didn't need SpongeBob OR Bob Dole! This time he would kill someone, and ALL BY HIMSELF!

"Hey, what are you guys doing?" Bob asked the 'men' in silver and blue uniforms.

"Uhh..."

They actually didn't know what they were doing, because if you hadn't guessed already, they were football players, and football players can only process one thing at a time. They all looked down at Gerard again, who sucked on his thumb as he slept on the wet grass.

Unknowingly, whoever had driven the stupid bus away from the concert the night before had parked in the middle of a football field. However that worked out. So when Gerard had stormed outside the night before, he had slept a distance from the bus, though he was still sleeping on the football field.

"We gotta practice and this hobo is sleeping on our field!" The smartest of the team informed Bob. They didn't seem to care about the bus, even though it was a LOT bigger than our friend Gerard.

"That's not a hobo, that's-" Bob stopped his sentence that could've potentially saved Gerard's life. "Well, you want him off your field, don't you?" Bob asked the idiots. They all nodded. "Well what do you do in football when you want someone off of your field?"

Bob was answered by ten blank stares.

"You pick 'em up and throw 'em, right?" Bob suggested, even though he didn't know a thing about any sport but badminton.

"Yeah!" the team shouted even though it wasn't the right answer. They all picked up Gerard and lifted him over their heads as they began running down the field at speeds insurance agents would be jealous of.

Gerard remained sleeping for a few more seconds, thinking he was in a dream where he was crowd surfing. Once he opened his sleepy little eyes and saw the goal post approaching, though, he wished he was still asleep.

Gerard opened his mouth to try to scream "Hey! Put me down!" but his voice was still shot from the night before and poor Gee couldn't say anything at all!

Bob watched the band of angry football players run down the field with soon-to-be-dead Gerard and laughed and laughed and laughed. He laughed so hard he almost cried, because his plan could NEVER fail!

The mute Gerard dared himself to look down. Gasp! Football players! What horrible high school memories this brought poor Gee! He began to flail his arms and legs so hard that the football players had to drop him if they wanted to keep their heads. Gerard landed on his back, and though the wind was knocked out of him, after a minute, he could whisper again.

"What are you doing?" he choked, his bottom lip quivering in fear of the younger yet larger guys and his loathing of football fields and players.

"No hobos allowed," the smallest (yet still more muscular than Gerard) one said, pointing to a sign a way's away that said just that.

"I'm not a hobo," Gerard's hoarse voice cried.

"Hey! I know who you are!" the biggest grunted, pointing a quite threatening, sausage-like finger and Gerard's perspiring forehead. "You're Gerard Way!"

At first Gerard thought the team hated him and his band and were going to beat him up. "Please don't hurt me!" he cried, squeezing his eyes shut as they pulled him up by the armpits.

"We're not gonna hurt you, man!" the smartest one smiled, and everyone beamed at Gerard as he regained his balance. "My girlfriend loves you!"

"Will you sign this for my mother?"

"My sister?"

"My stepbrother?"

"My half-father?"

"My guinea pig?"

Pretty soon Sharpies were shoved at him from every direction and he was signing helmets, shoes, stomachs, and foreheads.

"You can sleep on our football field any time, Gerard!" they called after him as he walked back to the bus. Gerard only waved back, seeing as though he couldn't TALK.

Bob was dumbfounded as he saw Gerard return to the bus. "Why didn't they throw you?" he demanded of little Gee.

"Why would they do that?" Gerard asked in a whisper.

"Because I told them to harm you!"

I don't know what Gerard heard, but he obviously thought Bob had said something NICE, and smiled one of his sincere Gerard smiles. "Wow, Bob, thanks to you, I no longer fear football fields and their players! Thanks!" he said as loudly as he could to show his APPRECIATION.

"Wait!" Bob called as he followed Gee half-way onto the bus. "You mean... I helped you?"

"Yup," Gee smiled. "Thanks."

Bob was only half-way onto the bus when it started to move, causing a bloody knee and a bruised ego. He needed to go to more drastic measures. Like... explosives!

End of chapter six.