(Untitled)

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THIS IS TO COUNTERACT LACK OF SUBSTANCE.

WHICH IS NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH "LOSS OF SUBSTANCE" BECAUSE THAT'S ALL RHYSENN RIGHT THERE.

PEE EHS: WANNA BE BFF'S!?

note the conspicuous lack of title.

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Brow furrowed, Pete thought back to when he'd woken up this morning. He didn't remember anyone else in the bed with him, although he supposed the strangely large lump beneath the Mercury silk quilt and the thigh massage were probably a pretty decent clue, in retrospect.

"Morning, baby," came a low growl, and then a greasy-haired monster flung itself at Gerard.

Reacting in true Jedi fashion, Pete whipped out his lightsaber.

"Avast, ye fiend!" he shouted, flailing the extremely dangerous weapon around wildly, a stream of pink light following the motions that his hands made.

Gerard laughed - hysterically, which sort of surprised Pete because excessive happiness was supposed to be rather dangerous to a creature of Gerard's species - and doubled over, clutching his stomach.

"Your lightsaber," he wheezed, "is pink!"

The greasy-haired monster, which Pete now realized was none other than one Bert McCracken, clad in nothing but boxer shorts with all the different Lucky Charms on them, grinned and cackled to himself, attempting to suppress his laughter with a hand. Pete was not fooled.

"Oh fuck you both," he spat, sheathing his lightsaber once more and trying very, very hard not to make any inappropriate jokes.

"You did that last night, sugar," Bert said, pursing his lips into a kiss and aiming it Pete's direction.

Pete glared. "Mock me again and I'll salt you, I swear."

Bert's look was one of pure terror, before it dissolved into childish sulking.

"Would you two stop fighting?" Gerard said jovially, wiping the tears off his inhumanly pale face. "I mean, really, no one is ever going to take me seriously as an evil overlord if I can't even control my minions."

"Technically," Pete pointed out, holding up a finger while Bert nodded his agreement with Gerard's statement, "I'm not a minion. I'm actually a Class Three enemy, I think."

"Oh," Gerard shrugged. "Well, come on. Can't keep Darth Glitter waiting. He'll get his sparkly panties in a right twist."

And with that, Gerard struck a pose, one foot on a chair so that his left knee was slightly raised, left arm bent at the elbow, right hand pointing down the hallway with all the authority he could muster.

"To the landspeeder!" he said.

*

"No, really, how do you get your hair to do that?" Bert inquired for the millionth time, jabbing Pete in the shoulder. Pete grimaced and sent up a prayer to whatever powers be to help him keep his temper in check. It would be of no use to anyone for him to start a fight in a landspeeder with two alien beings.

"Well, washing is usually a good start," Pete offered, smiling thinly.

"Ah," Bert said with an air of dawning comprehension.

"We're nearly there!" Gerard cried ecstatically from the front seat, shifting the white-rimmed sunshades balanced on his nose.

The house - although probably a more appropriate term would have been castle, or mansion, or thoroughly expensive and large enough as to be compensation property - that they were approaching was black everywhere, spires rising like the blades of stilettos against the powder blue throat of the sky. The surface of the building was like a mirror, and Pete could see his own awed, slightly terrified gaze reflected as they sped into one of the (surely) hundreds of interior chambers.

"Well, shit," Gerard muttered, turning down the radio. "They've sent a welcoming party."

Bert glanced at the approaching Storm Troopers through his aviators and, without relinquishing his gaze, procured a set of police standard handcuffs seemingly from nowhere. Pete jumped a little.

"Here," Bert instructed. "Put these on."

[spankmerotten]

"Okay!" Pete said, grabbing the handcuffs from Bert and securing them around his wrists with obviously practiced ease. He raised his arms above his head and smiled saucily. "Now what do you want me to do?" he asked in a low voice.

Bert stared. "Just stay exactly like that."

"Damn," Gerard muttered from up front, eyes fixed on the approaching landing pad and accompanying army of Storm Troopers. "Here," he said, rummaging in the small space between his seat and the door, "cover yourself with this blanket, Pete--hey! What the Hell is going on back there?" Gerard swiveled his head around to yell at the pair, Pete stretched across the seat with his hands handcuffed above his head and Bert staring hungrily at his companion. "Hey! Minions!" Gerard yelled again.

Bert drooled.

Gerard turned back around and began descending the landspeeder. "Christ. Just when they promise that phase is over with, another hot human boy in a hoodie shows up on your doorstep. Fuckin' figures..."

Gerard landed the speeder on a clear patch of black spire and they were instantly surrounded by a sea of white armor and gun barrels.