Zombies on a Plane, My Chemical Romance, Frank/Gerard, plane, blanket, playroseclawFebruary 13 2009, 21:28:09 UTC
They were on their way home, somewhere between Belfast and Newark. Their European tour had been exhausting in the best way possible. Except Gerard couldn’t sleep. Ray was passed out behind him. Bob was passed out across the aisle. Mikey was passed out in front of him. And Frank - Frank was killing zombies on his PSP next to Gerard, his tongue sticking out in concentration.
Gerard poked Frank’s arm.
Frank jumped and yelped. “Zombies! On the plane!”
Bob cracked open an eye, reaching across the aisle, across Gerard, and smacked Frank.
Frank pouted at Bob, but Bob had already gone back to sleep. Well, he had closed his eyes again.
“I can’t sleep,” Gerard told Frank plaintively.
“Zombies?” Frank asked solemnly, then ruined it by giggling.
Gerard shook his head, stopped, frowned, then nodded. One never knew where the zombie apocalypse would start. But that wasn’t all.
“Let’s make a zombie force field,” Frank suggested.
As it turned out, Frank’s idea of a zombie force field was throwing a blanket over the seat in front of them, over their heads, to their seat back, creating a blanket fortress.
“Now they can’t eat our brains,” Frank said with a nod. Except for the part that the side facing the aisle was completely open.
“Cool,” Gerard said with a smile. He dug out his laptop. “Want to watch The Last Unicorn?”
They were on their way home, somewhere between Belfast and Newark. Their European tour had been exhausting in the best way possible. Except Gerard couldn’t sleep. Ray was passed out behind him. Bob was passed out across the aisle. Mikey was passed out in front of him. And Frank - Frank was killing zombies on his PSP next to Gerard, his tongue sticking out in concentration.
Gerard poked Frank’s arm.
Frank jumped and yelped. “Zombies! On the plane!”
Bob cracked open an eye, reaching across the aisle, across Gerard, and smacked Frank.
Frank pouted at Bob, but Bob had already gone back to sleep. Well, he had closed his eyes again.
“I can’t sleep,” Gerard told Frank plaintively.
“Zombies?” Frank asked solemnly, then ruined it by giggling.
Gerard shook his head, stopped, frowned, then nodded. One never knew where the zombie apocalypse would start. But that wasn’t all.
“Let’s make a zombie force field,” Frank suggested.
As it turned out, Frank’s idea of a zombie force field was throwing a blanket over the seat in front of them, over their heads, to their seat back, creating a blanket fortress.
“Now they can’t eat our brains,” Frank said with a nod. Except for the part that the side facing the aisle was completely open.
“Cool,” Gerard said with a smile. He dug out his laptop. “Want to watch The Last Unicorn?”
Frank molded into Gerard’s side. “Yes.”
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