Well, after much consideration and requesting from some wonderful reviewers, I have attempted to start a story that centers on the (humorous) life and times of the Freelancers. They don't get enough lovin'. Anyways, I'll need your help with this story. If you have any great ideas for pranks that you want me to write about, send your ideas my way, and I'd be happy to write them. In the meantime, here's the first chapter...

"Wyoming, why are you looking so tired these days?" Wash asked during one breakfast. The white Freelancer in question was nodding off threateningly over his plate of scrambled eggs and toast, and he lurched back to life at the sound of Wash's voice.

"Huh?" was the tired reply while Wyoming got his bearings. "Oh…sorry, old chap. This nightmarish sound has been keeping me up through the night, and I can't-" he released a gigantic yawn, "-can't sleep because of it."

"Well, what's the noise?" Wash asked curiously, taking a bite out of his banana.

"That's the thing, lad. I don't know what it is, but it won't stop playing. It starts at 2300, and doesn't stop until 0730 the next morning," Wyoming was beginning to sound desperate, looking for a solution to his problem.

"Have you talked with anybody else about this?"

"Indeed. CT, Carolina, South, and even the Councilor. They all inspect my room, and they don't find anything. It's driving me up the wall, Washington!"

"Well, I'll come by tonight, and see what the problem is. Who knows? This mystery sound might show itself to me."

So, the two agents met up at Wyoming's room at 2245 (purposefully ignoring the quizzical and suspicious looks from the other Freelancers still in the hallway). Wyoming went about his usual bedtime routine while Wash settled himself into a chair, staring hard at the ground as if it had done him a personal wrong. What was this mysterious sound that Wyoming could possibly be hearing at night? Was it the tell tale scratching of a 'monster in the closet?' Somehow, Wash didn't think so.

2300 passed by on the digital clock…then 2310…2315…2325…

Wash had almost fallen asleep when Wyoming gave a small gasp. "There it is. There's the sound," he whispered. Wash strained his ears.

"It sounds like…singing?" He pointed to the closet that Wyoming rarely used. "It's coming from there." Wash slowly approached the door, turned the knob, and pulled it open.

The other Freelancers were woken by screams, a door slamming open, and the screech of a high-pitched song that was caroling in an annoyingly cheerful fashion. Wash and Wyoming crashed into a wall next to Tex's room in their attempt to escape the noise coming from Wyoming's room. There were many puzzled looks from the guys…and many laughs from the girls.

"Got monsters in your closet, Wyoming?!" South cackled as she rolled on the ground, admiring her handiwork as Wash and Wyoming stared reproachfully at her, the song still ringing through the hallway.

It's a small world after all!

It's a small world after all!

It's a small world after all!

It's a small…small…world!

"Damnit, South! This means war!"

Once again, send some requests my way, and I'll be sure to write them. The second chapter should be up soon!