“Phew!  That was a close one,” Melissa said as she closed the door to her room.  Kelly and My Chemical Romance had already tumbled in before her, and had already dug out the Guitar Hero controller.  Frank pulled all four of his children out of his coat pockets (despite them all being between the ages of 14-16) and they immediately began bickering over who was going to be Pandora, because we all know she’s the coolest/hottest character EVER.  

But before you (or anyone) could say, “Holy ducking flapjacks,” there came a knock on the door.  Because everyone was too lazy to get off their a-double-dollar-signs, Gerard sent one of his bat-minions to open the door.  The bat—who we’ll creatively name Batty—struggled to turn the doorknob with its lack of opposable thumbs.  Hell, it didn’t even have hands or paws, so you gotta pity that little guy.  But after several minutes of struggling, Batty got that door open, and there was Sydney, looking a little mad, sad, and confused.  

“WHY did you guys put my mom in that closet?!”

The rest looked at each other nervously.  The truth was, they had no idea why they’d decided to stick Sydney’s mom in a closet.  But that was kind of a crappy explanation, so they had to come up with SOMETHING better.

“Batty did it!”  Cried Kelly in a moment of completely uninspired, corny, over-processed humor, and a studio audience burst into a fit of mechanical laughter.  Melissa reached over and accidentally (of course!) turned her alarm clock on.  

“SAVED BY THE BELL!”  Everyone shouted, and they immediately jumped out a window and into the car of one of Melissa’s many rich-artist-and/or-rock-star boyfriend-and/or-husbands.  

“It’s a good thing my used car salesmen are so reliable!”  Cried Melissa, and the guy, who happened to be Matt Friction (not because I’m wearing my Pink Spiders tee-shirt) nodded like he knew what was going on.  Psh, yeah right.  Yeah freaking right.

They drove off into the sunset.

Sydney stood in Melissa’s room, blinking hard and wondering why the gang had decided to randomly stuff her mom into a closet.

“So where are we going?” Kelly asked for the fourth time in the last five minutes.

“I told you: we’re going to the Mike-lair to pick up Scharfie and then we’re all going incognito to CVS!” Melissa sighed.  

“Oh, okay,” said Kelly, because this plan made a lot of sense the fourth time around.  

Soon enough (or soon enough thanks to a convenient time lapse, because hey—who really wants to read about every single mile of road they crossed?  Yeah, that’s what I thought.), they’d arrived at the infamous Mike lair, which was under the basement of Mike #2’s basement.  It was just that secretive.  So secretive, that the security devices would mess with this laptop and force the story into script mode at any second.  But which second?  You won’t know until it’s upon you.  

Anxiously, Bob knocked on the door for Melissa, who was anxious-er and therefore needed someone else to do it for her.  The door opened and all 5 of the Primary Mikes stood before them, wearing dorky, matching Mike-Lair polos with cargo pants and not looking remotely threatening.  

“Yeah?” Said Mike #1 after Kelly sprung at him and viciously hugged him for 30 seconds.

“We’re here for Mike #3,” said Melissa, grabbing Scharfie’s arm and pulling him out of there, because seriously, those polos were hideous.  

“Hey,” Mikey waved, smiling.  He missed all those Mike-meetings he used to go to.  Then he became Mikey, and he’d been…dismember-fied. Dismember-fication in the Mike world was often a painful process involving chili and scalpels.  The other Mikes waved back and got into a discussion about all the good times they’d had back when the snacks were still good and the new members weren’t as stupid.

THREAT DETECTED!  

SCRIPT MODE ACTIVATED:

BACK IN THE CAR

Scharfie: (Whiny) Why’d you take me out of the Mike-meeting?

Frank: I wanna go to a Mike-meeting!  (Sobs)

Bob: So?  Start a Frank club or something.

Gerard: He doesn’t know anyone else named Frank.

Mikey: Ah, the Mike-meetings…good times, good times!

Matt: I used to go to Matt-meetings every now and then.  But then it because Blank-aholics Anonymous…

FLASHBACK!

Matt #14: My name is Matt, and I have a problem.

Matt #20: My name is also Matt, and I also have a problem.

Matt #14: I, uh…got into drinking orange juice straight out of the carton.  I know it’s embarrassing, but once you get started, you really can’t turn back.

Matt #20: I’m a nymphomaniac.

Matt #14: My family just wants me to stop.  I try, but (tears up) I can’t help it!  It’s horrible, all the things I could be giving to my children, but I love the fix more! (Crying)

Matt #20: My fiancée tells me I’m too tiring sometimes, but damn…I just need some, you know?

Matt #83: I STEAL CABLE!

Matt #58: MY NAME’S NOT REALLY MATT!

END FLASHBACK

Frank: Wow.

Kelly: We’re here!  

Melissa: WAIT!  Before we get out of the car, we need to put on some disguises.  Did you bring the stuff, Ray?

Ray: (Pulls a dozen pirate costumes out of his afro)

Gerard: You brought those to Sydney’s house?!

Ray: Nah.  Those have been in there since a Halloween party back in seventh grade.

Mikey: Okay, let’s put these on, I guess… (Pulls on pirate costume)

Everyone else: (Shrugs and dons the nautical duds, matey!)

Melissa: Okay, now it’s VERY important that you keep a low profile.  We can’t let Sydney find out we’re still nearby or else we’ll have to tell her we have no good reason for putting her mom in a closet.  So stay close and stay quiet, got it?!

Frank: (Halfway across the parking lot) Yes, yes I AM FRANK IERO!  Do you want me to sign that napkin?  I don’t mind giving autographs, but I gotta hurry because I’m on the run from my girlfriend’s friend because I stuck her mom in a closet and have no good reason for it!  Okay, that’s F-R-A-

Gerard: NOOOO!!! (Deploys Batty)

Batty: (Flies across the parking lot and covers Frank’s mouth with his wings)

Kelly: He found fangirls in this area of Pennsylvania THAT FAST?!  This is like, Preppy Central!  Aren’t people around here too busy with their crappy Jonas Brothers albums?!

Gerard: (Squints) Actually, he was talking to a telephone pole.

Kelly: Oh.  IT’S OKAY, FRANK ANTHONY IERO OF MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE!  I TALK TO INANIMATE OBJECTS TOO, FOR SPEECH AND DEBATE!

Melissa: YOU GUYS!  STOP TELLING EVERYONE THAT YOU’RE MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE AND WE’RE ON THE RUN FROM SYDNEY!

Preppy Girl #1: Ew, My Chem?  Their metaphorical blood burns!  Gross!  You got it all over Generic Abercrombie Polo Number Five!

Preppy Girl #2: Quick, a manicure will solve this!

(THEY GONE!)

Melissa: (Sighs) Oh well.  Let’s go.

ENTER CVS!

Frank: ZOMG!  Wrapping paper at $1 a roll!  (Runs off to investigate)

Bob: WOAH!  RAMEN!

Ray: What KIND of Ramen?

Jon, Spencer, Ryan, and Brendon: (From shelf) FUELED BY RAMEN! 

Kelly: (Squeals) That’s my favorite kind!  How much is it?!

Brendon: I believe we’re the same price as any other Ramen…33 cents!

Kelly: It’s a deal!  (Plucks those band-boys off the shelf like they was any other microwaveable noodle package)

Melissa: Oh no…Kelly, how are they going to fit in the car?!

Kelly: Oh, I’ll make them fit! (Suggestive eyebrow-raise)

Panic: (Awkward)

Gerard: Aww, lookit that!  Look how young they are! (Starts baby-talking them)

Frank: (Pokes) They’re so skinny!  (Picks up one of Ryan’s arms) How are we supposed to live off THAT?! If we start starving, we’re NOT eating them first!

Gerard: Awwwww you got a platinum record, don’cha?  Don’cha?!  OMG THEY’RE LIKE LITTLE PUPPIES!

Panic: (Clumps together in fear)

Melissa: LET’S GET GOING!

Scharfie: Who are they?

Melissa: They’re like little puppies.

Scharfie: Oh, okay.

Bob: Okay, I got some food.  Is that all we need?

Kelly: I guess.  We also got some Fueled by Ramen.

Bob: Yeah, that’ll do then.

BACK IN THE CAR!

BUT WAIT!

Just as they stepped out of CVS, they came face-to-face with Sydney!  

“How did you know we were here?!”  Asked Melissa.

“Actually, I didn’t.  I just came to get some Fueled by Ramen.  Wait…DARN IT!  You got the last one, didn’t you?!”

Ryan nodded.  “The rest of our label sold out last week.”

Sydney started sobbing.  “But that’s my favorite flavor!”

“Don’t worry,” Kelly said, patting her shoulder, “we’ll share.”  

Bob hugged Sydney.  “I’ll give you my serving.”

“Wait a minute…why DID you guys put my mom in that closet?  I’m not mad, but I just want to know!”

They all looked at each other.  

“We just kinda felt like it,” Frank admitted.  

“Do you guys do EVERYTHING you ‘just feel’ like doing?”

Frank nodded before running around the parking lot shouting, “DRIVE, DRIVE, AS FAST AS YOU CAN!  YOU CAN’T CATCH ME; I’M GUITAR-PANSY MAN!”

Several pileups later, the gang climbed back into Matt’s car and Sydney decided to forgive them for their lame excuse.  

* * *

FIVE DAYS LATER

Scharfie: Ughhhhh!! I’M HUNGRY!

Mikey: We’re out of food!

Melissa: We still have the Fueled by Ramen!

Frank: (Grabs one of Ryan’s legs) We can’t eat that!  There’s nothing there to eat!

Kelly: So who are we eating now?!

Gerard: I say on three, Frank forces Matt to pull over and we can use the George Foreman grill to make a nice meal outta him!

Matt: Dude, you’re crazy!

Frank: I’M FRANK ANTHONY IERO!

Everyone Else: WE KNOW!

Kelly: I feel like tacos…


~FIN~

Kelly, MCR, Sydney, and Scharfie: Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear-

Melissa: SHUT UP!  THAT SONG’S COPYWRIGHTED!