Okay, this is a challenge fic for CidGregor's "Lines Aplenty" oneshot challenge. The requirements of the oneshot were that fifteen highly amusing, premeditated lines had to be integrated into the dialogue. Unfortunately, I honestly COULD NOT think of ANY was any of the Titans would EVER say some of these lines unless it was an AU fic…and they were all drunk. So…I fear for the OOCness is an unfortunate possibility, but I beg you to remember that no one acts like completely normal when drunk.

Other inspiration for this fic came from the awesome musical "Avenue Q," a hysterical - muppet show type thing. Listen to the soundtrack. I guarantee you're side will literally split open from laughing so hard.

Another note…there is some inappropriate language in this. Because my computer has filters, it won't let me POST certain inappropriate words without breaking them up with a period…making them not look like inappropriate words. So if there are random period in the middle of words, please be aware that I CAN type, it's simply my way of getting around my computer.

Final note: I do NOT support excessive drinking or complete intoxication. In fact, in real life, I have a complete phobia of alcohol. So please no reviews saying "GAH! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU! DRINKING IS BAD!" Come on. And also, this is AU, so all the Titans are in their 20's. There is no underage drinking taking place, so please don't bi.tch at me for that either.

Thank you.

Dedication: To CidGregor, for listening to my constant bit.ching, always providing entertaining discussion, and setting up this challenge. Here's to you!

Disclaimer: As we say in California, "PSHAW…as if." Which, roughly translated, means "Hell no."

And so, without further ado, I present to you:

It Sucks To Be Me

Richard Grayson sat at the head of a long glass table, drumming his fingers on the surface. His features were pulled into a slight grimace, as though he were thinking of something particularly unpleasant. His eyes drifted across the large table at which he sat. Noticing there were only seven places set, not eight (the number of people he was meeting), he absentmindedly reached to the next table and grabbed an extra set of utensils and a mat then messily arranged them before the only chair at the table lacking said eating equipment.

"That doesn't go there," a monotonous voice came from behind, and Dick jumped up in shock. He relaxed when his eyes fell on the violet haired girl behind him.

"Oh…hey, Rachel. What do you mean it doesn't go--" without waiting for her friend to finish, Rachel Roth stepped forward and switched the positions of the knife and spoon with a flick of her wrist. "Oh…" Dick smiled sheepishly.

"The wonders I learned being a waitress for three and a half years of my life, eh?" The pale skinned twenty two year old shrugged and smirked, then seated herself beside her friend, who'd also returned to his chair.

"You're early," Dick remarked, seeming more interested in the loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt than Rachel's arrival.

"I'm early? You were here first. I just had nothing better to do. Speaking of which, don't you get off work at the bank in about…" Rachel glanced down at her watch, "five minutes?"

"…So?" Dick shifted uncomfortably.

"So shouldn't you be working?"

"I...kind of got laid off today." Rachel's eyes got wide.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"Yeah…it kind of sucks to be me."

"Oh, pull yourself out of your pity pit. I've always thought you'd be better in law enforcement anyways." The raven haired girl leaned back in her chair.

"Rach, I'm broke. I'm unemployed. I'm twenty three. There is NO way I can afford college again. I'm still in debt for the last four years I spent there," he slumped forward. "I'm telling you, my life is screwed up."

"Your problems aren't so bad." Rachel silted her head to the side and tapped the glass table impatiently.

"Yeah? You've got a cushy job as an editor. What kind of issues could you possibly have?"

"There are more troubles in life than those concerning a job, you know. I mean…I'm somewhat pretty. And I'm pretty damn smart, wouldn't you say?"

Dick nodded. "Yeah. You are."

"Thank you. And…I'm into music and art and things like that…so I'm not excessively abnormal or anything…"


"So tell me something: why don't I have a boyfriend? That's my problem, Dick. I can't find a promising guy, ever. All the men I date are either dumb or insane." Rachel tossed her hair over her shoulder defiantly. "The only decent guys I know are Vic, Gar, Roy, Garth, and you, and you latter three don't really even count."

"And why's that?"

"Because Roy and Garth are gay and you've got something bad for Kori…regardless, none of you are exactly my type." Dick didn't deny that.

"What about that guy Cyborg set you up with from his church…Darryl or whatever?" The ebony haired man hadn't heard the details of how that one had turned out, and he was curious.

"Ugh, are you kidding me? I showed up for the date in all black, and he thought I was a Satan worshiper. A follower of the devil, Dick. It's not funny!" He friend had begun to let peals of laughter escape him, and Rachel did not appreciate that. She whacked him with her cloth napkin before continuing.

"Before I'd even sat down, Darryl had pulled out a portable wooden crucifix and began shouting 'The power of Christ compels you!' for the whole restaurant to hear while waving his cross around. It was surreal." The pale girl rolled her eyes and looked to the side, while her friend tried to contain his laughter. "Fu.ck…it sucks to be me."

"No, I don't have a job. I suck." Dick leaned forward intently, on the verge of busting up yet again.

"I don't have a date. I suck more." Rachel glared, her competitive side getting the better of her.

"I am the suck MASTER!" A voice came from behind the squabbling pair of friends, and suddenly two males had joined their table. Roy, the one who had spoken, was grinning with his usual reckless nonchalance. Beside him, his boyfriend Garth was chuckling as well.

"What's up, guys?" The lean, professional swimmer of the group swept his long hair back and took a sip of the water that had been set in front of both newcomers.

"We're debating. Tell us, who's life sucks more: Dick's or mine?" Rachel ran her finger along the lip of her own glass. Her two friends looked at one another for a moment, then simultaneously responded.


"Care to elaborate?" Dick raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Well…you guys know how we just moved in together, right?" Roy looked almost sheepish.


"We're already driving one another insane," muttered Garth.

"There wouldn't be so much arguing if you weren't always so anal about everything."

"I'm NOT anal!"

"Yes, you are."

"You always put your feet up on my chair, you never use coasters when you have a drink, and when you shave, you leave all the hair in the stupid sink. I have every right to be mad at you! It's repulsive!"

"You were ironing your underwear this morning," Roy turned towards Dick and Rachel, who were failing miserably at containing their chortles. "Tell me that's not anal."

"You're disgusting! Someone has to keep the place neat!"

"You're a clean freak. You're obsessed with neat!"

"Shut up! Both of you! I'm about to fall off my chair…" Rachel chucked her napkin, apparently her weapon of choice that evening, at her two friends as she composed herself and the laughter died down.

"Friends!" A sparkling Kori Andrews waltzed to their table and settled into the chair beside Rachel, greeting them all with a warm smile. "It is marvelous to see you all! What is it that we have been discussing!"

"How much life sucks." Garth smirked and Kori's eyes went wide.

"You believe…that you are possessing lives that 'suck'? HAH!" Her gales could be heard throughout the restaurant.

"Oh yeah? Tell us you're sob story, Kor. We're still waiting for Gar, Vic, and Tara." Dick ran a hand through his dark, ebony hair purely out of habit.

"…Are you positive you are wishing to hear? I do not want to dump burdens upon you…"

"Kori, we've all had our turn. Spill," Garth snatched a breadstick from the basket that the waiter had just brought and settled in to listen.

"Very well. You are all aware that I traveled to this country to gain opportunities I could not have otherwise. I began work soon after my arrival…at a German bakery."

"…Aren't you…Russian, Kor?" Raven put a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Indeed, I am. I am unable tell you how often I was confused by the instructions being shouted at me by the owners. I managed, however, and now I have obtained the degrees needed to become a therapist. Unfortunately…I am without clients, so it is not benefiting my life as I had hoped it would." Kori hung her head sadly. "I am, however, with many bills to pay."

"You're not the only one." Roy arched his back and shook his head. "Hell, if any of us had cash, we'd probably pay you to be our therapist. God knows we all need one…" Kori smiled appreciatively.

"That is kind of you, Roy."

"Yeah, dawg, I'm a little surprised you have such capacity for kindness." The final three members of their group had been ushered in by the waiter, and now Tara, Victor, and Garfield sat at the table.

"Ooh, you're a riot, Vicky. You make that one up all by yourself?" Roy snickered.

"Aw, shove it, dude. It's not like you could come up with anything better!" Garfield shot, flipping open one of the menus that were being passed around now that the entire group had arrived.

"So…we've all decided that everybody leads sucky lives, then?" The blond girl, Tara, clicked her tongue impatiently. "What a drag. But when it comes to the sucking department, you know I own you all. Not only does my life suck, but I suck too." Rachel leaned over and lightly whacked Tara on the shoulder.

"Shut up," the pale girl spat, "you know you kick ass."

"Tara kicks all kinds of ass!" Cyborg proclaimed, silently applauding with a smile on his face.

"Tara doesn't just kick all kinds of ass! She has to invent completely new kinds of ass, just so she can kick them and take their names!" Gar held up a fork mightily, as though this were some kind of world-altering newscast.

"Thanks guys," Tara flushed. "You really know how to give a hell of a confidence boost."

"What're friends for?" Garth shrugged, his attention more on the food than the conversation at hand.

"Yeah, you know we're there for you Tara." Dick smiled, also reaching for a bread stick.

"Hey Vic! I think I know why your life would suck1" Roy nearly shouted across the table.

"Chill, man." But the muscular man was curious in spite of himself. "Whatcha got on me?"

"You're stuck in a life between jock and nerd!"

"Whoa, nerds are sexy, so don't go around hatin' on them. And I think I have a right to be proud of the fact that I can both build my own computer AND make a good play in football…better than you can, anyways…"

"Everyone ready to order?" Rachel interjected, hoping to get everyone fed before midnight if at all possible. There were murmurs of yes and no, but the waiter was summoned regardless.


By the time dinner was over, the eight friends had become a bit less giddy and a bit more depressed, the sucky aspects of each and every one of their lives actually sinking in. There was an obvious depression looming in the air, and Gar wanted to fix that. He was not one for such a melancholy mood.

"Y'know what?" The youngest member jumped up and jabbed his finger into the glass table purposefully. "Life's to short to sit around and mope about our sucky lives."

"What do you suggest we are to do then, Gar? What could possibly allow us to ignore the 'suck' of our lives?" Kori's eyes were wide and expectant.

"I say we get drunk and do what we do best!"

"And what would that be?" Garth inquired, poking the remainder of his peach pie with a silver fork.

"Dance Dance Revolution, of course!" Gar grinned excitedly as the rest of the group perked up. Mention of the popular game brought back good memories of college and dorm days, where they'd all met.

"Getting drunk and DDRing the night away…" Tara pondered this. "That's the most horrible, foolish, and IDIOTIC idea I've ever heard in my life…IT'S PERFECT!" She was not alone in her agreement.

"...You realize that his means Gar's the smartest," remarked Cyborg, quirking an eyebrow at Rachel.

"…I want to cry, but there aren't enough tears," her smile lessened the blow of her sarcasm, however. Even she was ready for a night of pure…waste.

In a matter of moments, the group threw together enough money to cover the bill and exited the restaurant with the intent of meeting up at Gar's apartment within the half hour.


It didn't take very long.

Soon after the caps were popped and the corks removed, there was no stopping them. Within the first hour, Gar, Tara, Roy, and Garth were completely trashed, and Dick, Kori, Vic, and Rachel were flirting dangerously with the line between one drink too many and completely drunk.

Roy and Garth had given up on DDR after a while and settled for leaning on one another, talking quietly with the minor exception of every once in a while when you could hear the louder snippets of their conversation when they got particularly emotional about whatever they were speaking of.

Gar and Tara wee locked in what seemed to be an everlasting game of DDR, and Dick, Kori, Rachel, and Vic sat in a circle on the floor, taking swigs out of individual bottles of beer (although whose was whose exactly had been long forgotten) while waiting for their turn. They watched as the two players giggled and tripped and shamelessly flirted, although whether the latter was due to intoxication had yet to be determined. Rachel, however, took another sip of her, or perhaps someone else's, beer and glared at her two friends.

"If those two ever get together, I will be convinced beyond all reasonable doubt that God hates me." The other three on the floor fell silent to consider what she'd just said.

"So, what you're trying to say is…you've got wood? For Gar? Dick managed a chortle as his friend flushed. "Do you?"

"First of all, girls do not 'get wood,' and I'd thought you'd have slept with enough females to know."

"Wow…that was helpfully specific in regards to my question."

"You're starting to sound like me."

"Yeah, that happens sometimes." Rachel's face contorted slightly, and she shook her head.

"Gar does NOT turn me on. No," she took another gulp, and in that time, Vic grabbed Kori's arm on his way down…

To land face first on the floor.

"Vic! Are you unwell?" Kori dove to her friend's side.

He didn't respond, obviously.

"Don't bother, Kor. He's out cold." Dick peered over with a careless glance.

"But we must aid him!" The auburn haired girl yanked helplessly at Vic's arm in an attempt to raise him up. She didn't get very far before collapsing under the football player's weight.

"Yeah, alright, don't kill yourself…" Dick got up as well, and their combined effort allowed Vic to be lifted and carried upstairs to the bathroom for further attention.

Rachel was left alone on the floor. For a while, she dragged her gaze away from her flirting straight friends to her flirting gay ones for entertainment, but after Garth repeated "But I'm seaworthy…" in a rather sultry voice four times in a row, only earning a snappish "You're only saying that to get me in bed!" from Roy, she'd grown bored of them. Just as she returned her attention to Gar and Tara, the blond took a drunken spill downward, her chest hitting the coffee table a little ways away from her, hard, before landing on the ground. This unleashed an eruption of four lettered obscenities as Tara clutched a rather sensitive and now wounded area, rolling around on her back.

"Tara! Tara, are you okay?" Gar kneeled beside the injured blond as she slowly adopted a steady chat of 'shit,' the pain slowly dying down. Tara nodded jerkily.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm okay." Gar helped her up.

"Then I have just one question for you."

"What's that?"

"HOW CAN YOU STAND HAVING BREASTS?" Tara paused, stunned at the question, then began to laugh hysterically.

"I really have no idea, but I think you find them pretty sexy." Gar grinned and let out a playful growl, the pungent smell of beer lacing his breath.

"You can't even begin to imagine."

"Oh, gag me…" The two friends looked up to see Raven rather immaturely shoving a finger into her mouth. "You two disgust me." She rose quickly and stormed out of the room.

"…Should we go after her?" Gar asked, confused.

"Yeah, probably." They both hurried to the next room…

And that was the last thing Gar Logan remembered about that night.


Daylight streamed through the window, and this did not please the sleeping Garfield at all.

That is, it woke him up.

The short 21 year old lay on a bed, his bed, groaning and clutching his head. "Why am I sticky and naked? Did I miss something fun…?" Granted, he had a set of blankets covering him, but that didn't change the fact that there had been clothes on his body the previous night and now they were gone.

Thankfully, Gar was in his own room, so he quickly jumped out of bed and threw on a set of clothes over his sticky skin and walked into the main room of his apartment.

His seven friends sat around the counter in his kitchen, passing around a large jar of peanut butter, each presumably trying to kill the raging headache he or she felt.

"About time," Roy spat, rubbing his head and downing a tall glass of water.

"Yeah…er…what…happened last night, out of curiosity?" The question was directed at Tara and Rachel, who exchanged nervous glances.

"Nothing," the blond squeaked shakily.

"Absolutely nothing," Rachel repeated, quickly turning to the sink to clean out the glasses and bottles that lay there. The story of the previous night was for another time…and truth be told, the two girls weren't too sure they could remember everything with perfect accuracy themselves.

No, that whole escapade can stay locked in the past, Rachel decided, picking up a yellow cloth and rubbing at a spot on a glass.

"Hey…isn't this part of the towel set I got you when you moved in here?" Garth remarked, poking Gar in the side when he noticed the material Rachel was holding.

"Er…yeah, I think so."

"Huh…the funny thing is, these were with when I bought 'em…"

Rachel dropped the cloth immediately and begin washing not the glasses but her hands with profuse vigor.

"More peanut butter…" Cyborg reached to take the jar from Kori. Of all the friends, he'd been hit the worst.

And he'd had the least drinks.

"Ten bucks says that Dick and Kor hooked up last night," droned Roy.

"Fu.ck off, man…" Dick rolled his eyes and whacked the offending speaker, but didn't exactly deny the claims.

"I do not wish to be of offense," Kori murmured in a desperate attempt to change the subject, her face steadily getting redder, "but I do not see how our binge has helped us in the least. Our lives still consist of the 'suck.'"

"Girl's got a point…" Tara grabbed at the glass of water that Gar had poured himself, too lazy to get her own, but to no avail. There was a short pause as the friends sat in silence, but soon Roy broke out with:

"So who wants to do this again tonight?"


Okay, so not my best piece. Still fun to write. I thank Cid for posing the challenge…and though it didn't seem like it at first, it really WAS a challenge.

-holds head-

I think I need aspirin now…badly.