Hi peeps! Another story! And it's all for you! WOOT!
I own nothing. The Almighty Larson owns it all.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrkkkkkkkkyyyyyyyyy!" Collins said in singsong voice to a sleeping Mark. "Waaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkkkeeeeeeeee uuuuuuuuuuppppppppppp!" Mark rolled over, but didn't open his eyes. Collins snatched Mark's pillow from under his head and got no response. Frustrated, he smacked him in the head with the pillow. Then he waited.
Officially pissed, he searched the room for something to wake Mark up with. He noticed his camera and grinned evilly. He picked it up and poked Mark with it. Collins spoke in a cynical voice. "Mark? Get your ass up or the camera gets it." Hearing this, Mark shot up.
"You wouldn't dare!" he yelled.
"Try me," Collins replied, starting to back out of the room with the camera.
"Collins . . ." Mark's tone sounded more like a warning.
"Yes?" Mark said nothing more, reached under his bed, and pulled out a bag containing Collins' most prized possession (not counting his beanie, which was on his head). Collins stopped dead in his tracks. "Mark? Is that my weed?"
"Yup," Mark replied.
"Why do you have it?"
"Because you have my camera."
"How'd you know I'd have your camera? More importantly, how the hell did you find my stash?"
"I've been planning for the moment you tried to steal my camera for a long time." Roger then came into the room.
"Roger! There's been a crisis!" Collins yelled.
"What?" Roger replied.
"Mark stole my weed!"
"Mark, give him back his weed before he has a nervous breakdown."
"But he has my camera!" Mark whined.
"Fine. Collins, give him back his camera," Roger said.
"Hell no! Not till I have my weed!" Collins said.
"You won't have your weed till I have my camera!" Mark retorted.
"Oh for Christ's sake! Gimmie those!" Roger yelled, grabbing Mark's camera with one hand and Collins' weed with the other.
"HEY!" Mark and Collins wailed at the same time.
"You can have these back when I feel you deserve them," Roger informed them. "Now, come and help me clean, Collins." He then left the room ahead of Collins to hide Collins and Mark's possessions.
"Roger's a bossy know-it-all with the butt the size of a shopping mall," Collins said to Mark quietly in singsong voice.
"I heard that!" Roger called from the living room. "Get out here!"
"Oh no. Mark, I'm gonna get spanked," Collins said, pretending to cry. "Help me." Roger then stormed back into the room and grabbed Collins by his arm.
"Get your ass out here!" he demanded, dragging Collins out of the room.
"Noooooo! Mark! Save me!" Collins yelled dramatically.
"I have the weirdest friends ever," Mark said to himself as he picked his pillow up off the floor and laid down. Just as he was about to fall back to sleep, he remembered what Roger had said not too long ago. "Did he say 'clean?'" He got out of bed, went into the living room, and immediately saw a banner that said: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARK. "Guys?" Roger and Collins jumped up from behind the couch wearing pointy party hats.
"Happy birthday Mark!" they both shouted.
"What's with the hats?" Mark asked.
"They're a great fashion accessory," Collins replied, putting a party hat on Mark's head.
"I don't want a hat," Mark whined, taking the hat off of his head.
"Oh yes you do," Collins said, forcing him to put the hat back on. "The money for these hats came outta my pockets, so you're wearin' one!"
"Fine." Mark looked around for a moment before realizing something very strange. "Holy shit! The loft's clean!"
"Yup," Roger said. "We cleaned all night while you were asleep."
"What the hell do you mean 'we?'" Collins asked. "I'm the one that was on my hands and knees!"
"I thought that was your favorite position."
"Ha ha. Funny Davis. Real funny."
"While I erase that mental image from my mind, I gotta ask: Why'd you tell Collins to help you clean if the loft was already clean?" Mark asked Roger.
"To make sure you came out here," Roger explained.
"Cake time!" Collins exclaimed, walking over to the counter.
"Cake?" Mark repeated as he and Roger followed Collins.
"Cupcake to be exact." Collins gave the cupcake to Roger and put a candle in the middle of it. "Sorry we couldn't afford a whole cake. This is good too, right?"
"Sure," Mark said. "It's the thought that counts." Benny then walked into the loft and over to the counter.
"BENNY!" Roger yelled, putting the cupcake on the counter.
"ROGER!" Benny yelled.
"BENNY!" Collins yelled, hugging Benny.
"HAVE A HAT!" Collins put a party hat on Benny's bald head.
"OKAY!" Benny yelled. "WHY THE HELL ARE WE YELLING?"
"CAUSE IT'S MARK'S BIRTHDAY!" Roger explained loudly.
"OH YEAH! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARK!"
"Thanks," Mark said. "Could you guys stop yelling now?"
"I DON'T KNOW!" Roger said. "COLLINS, CAN WE STOP YELLING NOW?"
"HELL NO!" Collins yelled. "MARK, YOU CAN BE AS LOUD AS THE HELL YOU WANT ON YOUR BIRTHDAY! I WANNA HEAR YOU SCREAM YOUR AGE!"
"Why?" Mark asked.
Fine. I'm 21."
"I'M 21 FUCKING YEARS OLD!"
"CAN WE STOP YELLING NOW!?"
"Good." Collins laughed and slapped Mark on his back.
"Ah, you're finally 21," Collins said. "It seems like just yesterday you were 20."
"Uh . . . he was 20 yesterday Collins," Benny pointed out.
"Oh great! Thanks for killin' the fuckin' atmosphere Benjamin!" Collins complained.
"Don't call me that!" Benny demanded. "You wouldn't like it if I called you Thomas, would you?" Collins cringed.
"Ooh, T-word," Roger said, backing up.
"Don't you EVER call me that again!" Collins yelled. "MY NAME IS COLLINS!"
"Your birth-name is Thomas," Benny stated. "Just like your dad."
"AHHHHHHHHH! YOU PISS ME OFF SO MUCH!" Collins stormed to his room and slammed the door.
"Not cool, Benny," Roger scolded. "You know Collins has issues with his dad."
"Well, he shouldn't have called me Benjamin," Benny said. Collins then returned holding a heavy book.
"You know what's great about you havin' no hair, Benny?" he asked.
"What?" Benny replied.
"It's easier to give you brain damage!" Collins held the book up threateningly. "COME HERE!"
"AHHHHHHHH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!" Benny yelled, running away from Collins.
"Guys! Come on!" Mark yelled. Benny suddenly pulled Mark in front of him just as Collins was about to hit him with his book.
"You wouldn't hit Mark, would you?" Benny asked.
"He's not gonna hit anybody," Roger said, taking the book away from Collins. "You guys can kill each other later. This is Mark's day."
"Count your blessings Coffin," Collins warned.
So . . . that was the first chapter. What'd ya think good people? Oh, before I forget, SHOUT OUT TO MY BETA, TWILIGHTTWICKED5678! YOU ROCK TWICKED! Now, review please!