The Little Redheaded Musical Genius (and Three Other Dudes)
Title: The Little Redheaded Musical Genius (and Three Other Dudes)
Author: ailly
Summary: Non-explicit Fall Out Boy GSF, wherein Patrick is the Little Red Hen, and he doesn't move to Barcelona. Bears only passing resemblence to canon, because come on. Little Red Hen.
Big thanks to imogenedisease for looking it over, even though I tweaked and re-tweaked afterwards, so all faults lie with me.
----
Once upon a time, there was a little redheaded musical genius who was in a band with three other dudes. One dude was generally crazy but also strangely awesome, and he was the little redheaded musical genius's best friend. One dude had crazy hair and was pretty laid back and generally awesome, and the other dude had kind of crazy eyes and could be strangely militant about veganism but was otherwise totally awesome. They were all pretty awesome together.
One day, the little redheaded musical genius heard a few notes floating through the air, and decided he had to write a song based on them.
"Who will help me write the music?" He asked.
"Not me," said his generally crazy best friend. "I mean, I'll give you a couple pages of unpunctuated ramblings once you're done and we can work out lyrics from there, but I'm not really great with writing music, and hey, I'm sorry, I really need to take this call. Hey, Ryan, what are you wearing? Really?"
"Not me," said his friend with the crazy hair. "I mean, if you wanted to work on the next album today, you should have told me earlier. I am so high right now I'm seeing music notes, dude. It's totally Snoopy."
"Not me," said his friend with the crazy eyes. "I mean, I trust what you're doing, and if the drums you come up with suck, then don't worry, I'll tell you so."
The little redheaded musical genius just kind of nodded vaguely, because the song was already half-composed in his head by this point and he didn't want to lose the bridge by speaking.
A few days passed, and the song was written, and the little redheaded musical genius and his friends recorded the song together and were happy. Then the little redheaded musical genius received a demo CD from another band that he thought was pretty good, although not great. He decided he would produce their album, and maybe even convince them to change the name of 'Fuck You, You Fucking Fuck' in order to release it as a single. (It had a very catchy tune.)
"Who will help me produce their album?" He asked.
"Not me," said his generally crazy best friend. "I've got like four other bands signed to this label and they'd get totally pissy if I start playing favorites with this one."
"Not me," said his friend with the crazy hair. "I'm just about to beat my score on Halo 2."
"Not me," said his friend with the crazy eyes. "I'm morally opposed to working with a band whose schtick is to perform in leather pantsuits."
The little redheaded musical genius figured these were all fair points, and took the other band into the studio and tried to convince them not to rhyme 'you' with 'you'.
A few weeks passed, and the album was finished, and the little redheaded musical genius and his friends went out on tour together for their own album and were happy. Then the little redheaded musical genius decided he was kind of bored, and wanted to learn to play a new musical instrument.
"Who will learn how to play the trumpet with me?" He asked.
"AHAHAHAH," said his generally crazy best friend. "I can barely play the one instrument I already have. Here, please learn to play on this purple trumpet, because that would be both hilarious and personally gratifying."
"...," said his friend with the crazy hair. "We can get a second bus so I don't have to listen to your imitations of a moose mating call, right?"
"Eh," said his friend with the crazy eyes. "I am not interested in learning myself, but I will help you if you require it as long as you don't play when I am entertaining the ladies. And by entertaining I mean- "
"I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN."
The little redheaded musical genius agreed to these suggestions, and played songs for his friends once he learned how to make the trumpet stop squeaking strangely, and they were happy.
A few months passed, and the little redheaded musical genius fell in love! With a girl! He was VERY happy, and so was she, and all of his friends had good stuff in their lives as well, so they were all generally happy. Then the little redheaded musical genius decided he was going to get married.
"Who will be my best man in the wedding?" He asked.
"Um, not me," said his generally crazy best friend. "I know you're happy and all, but I think you should wait a bit more than three weeks before getting hitched, sorry."
"Uh, not me," said his friend with the crazy hair. "I'm gonna have to go with Pete on this one. Sorry dude."
"Not me," said his friend with the crazy eyes. "I am also morally opposed to the institution of marriage. Also, why am I always your last choice? I am your busmate! Not cool, dude."
So the little redheaded musical genius pouted for a while, but decided maybe his friends were kind of smart sometimes, so he did not propose and just enjoyed having a girlfriend and they were all pretty happy.
(And his friends were maybe also secretly relieved that the little redheaded musical genius was not going to leave them all to go to Barcelona with his wife.
["Why Barcelona, Pete?"
"Well it's not like he'd go to Barbados, is it? Too much sun."])
Then the little redheaded musical genius's girlfriend broke up with him, for reasons only definitively known to the two of them, but which may or may not have been influenced by an argument about strap-ons. He moped in his room for a few days and did not write any songs and did not produce for any other bands and did not practice his trumpet, and his friends all got very worried.
"Who will help me feel better?" He asked, in a much more pitiful voice than his friends had ever heard him use before.
"I will!" said his generally crazy best friend. "Your moping is distracting me from work."
"I will!" said his friend with the crazy hair. "Your moping is depressing the dog."
"I will!" said his friend with the crazy eyes. "Your moping keeps scaring away my ladies."
"Well TOUGH!" snapped the little redheaded musical genius. "Screw all of you! I'm running away to start a new life in Barcelona!"
("Ha, I told you so!")
And the little redheaded musical genius punched a dent in the side of the bus, then went off to get himself a totally non-vegan pizza and maybe some beer to make himself feel better. But he wasn't really hungry once he got to the pizza parlor, and he didn't much like the taste of beer anymore, and his hand was really starting to hurt, and all in all he wasn't really feeling any better. So he sighed and decided to go back to pouting in his room.
When he got back to his bus and went to his room, however, he found his three crazy friends waiting for him.
In his bed.
Totally naked.
"You really need cheering up," said his friend with the crazy eyes. "And honestly, I don't care about the ladies if you're not happy."
"You really need cheering up," said his friend with the crazy hair. "And honestly, I'm really great at blowjobs, I have improved so much since the last time we did this, it's crazy the tricks Bill knows."
"You really need cheering up," said his generally crazy best friend. "And honestly, you are more important than any of the other stuff I've got going on. Now take off your pants and get in the fucking bed."
So the little redheaded musical genius did just that. And they all had a lot of sex and did not get much sleep that night, and the one with the crazy eyes maybe kept them up wondering if swallowing was vegan or not, and the one with the crazy hair was maybe not as good at blowjobs as he thought, and the generally crazy one maybe tried to take pictures using his cell phone, but the little redheaded musical genius was pretty damn happy anyway. And even if they didn't all live happily ever after, they totally lived well-sexed and happily for a while, which was pretty awesome as far as these things go.
THE END
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Author: ailly
Summary: Non-explicit Fall Out Boy GSF, wherein Patrick is the Little Red Hen, and he doesn't move to Barcelona. Bears only passing resemblence to canon, because come on. Little Red Hen.
Big thanks to imogenedisease for looking it over, even though I tweaked and re-tweaked afterwards, so all faults lie with me.
----
Once upon a time, there was a little redheaded musical genius who was in a band with three other dudes. One dude was generally crazy but also strangely awesome, and he was the little redheaded musical genius's best friend. One dude had crazy hair and was pretty laid back and generally awesome, and the other dude had kind of crazy eyes and could be strangely militant about veganism but was otherwise totally awesome. They were all pretty awesome together.
One day, the little redheaded musical genius heard a few notes floating through the air, and decided he had to write a song based on them.
"Who will help me write the music?" He asked.
"Not me," said his generally crazy best friend. "I mean, I'll give you a couple pages of unpunctuated ramblings once you're done and we can work out lyrics from there, but I'm not really great with writing music, and hey, I'm sorry, I really need to take this call. Hey, Ryan, what are you wearing? Really?"
"Not me," said his friend with the crazy hair. "I mean, if you wanted to work on the next album today, you should have told me earlier. I am so high right now I'm seeing music notes, dude. It's totally Snoopy."
"Not me," said his friend with the crazy eyes. "I mean, I trust what you're doing, and if the drums you come up with suck, then don't worry, I'll tell you so."
The little redheaded musical genius just kind of nodded vaguely, because the song was already half-composed in his head by this point and he didn't want to lose the bridge by speaking.
A few days passed, and the song was written, and the little redheaded musical genius and his friends recorded the song together and were happy. Then the little redheaded musical genius received a demo CD from another band that he thought was pretty good, although not great. He decided he would produce their album, and maybe even convince them to change the name of 'Fuck You, You Fucking Fuck' in order to release it as a single. (It had a very catchy tune.)
"Who will help me produce their album?" He asked.
"Not me," said his generally crazy best friend. "I've got like four other bands signed to this label and they'd get totally pissy if I start playing favorites with this one."
"Not me," said his friend with the crazy hair. "I'm just about to beat my score on Halo 2."
"Not me," said his friend with the crazy eyes. "I'm morally opposed to working with a band whose schtick is to perform in leather pantsuits."
The little redheaded musical genius figured these were all fair points, and took the other band into the studio and tried to convince them not to rhyme 'you' with 'you'.
A few weeks passed, and the album was finished, and the little redheaded musical genius and his friends went out on tour together for their own album and were happy. Then the little redheaded musical genius decided he was kind of bored, and wanted to learn to play a new musical instrument.
"Who will learn how to play the trumpet with me?" He asked.
"AHAHAHAH," said his generally crazy best friend. "I can barely play the one instrument I already have. Here, please learn to play on this purple trumpet, because that would be both hilarious and personally gratifying."
"...," said his friend with the crazy hair. "We can get a second bus so I don't have to listen to your imitations of a moose mating call, right?"
"Eh," said his friend with the crazy eyes. "I am not interested in learning myself, but I will help you if you require it as long as you don't play when I am entertaining the ladies. And by entertaining I mean- "
"I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN."
The little redheaded musical genius agreed to these suggestions, and played songs for his friends once he learned how to make the trumpet stop squeaking strangely, and they were happy.
A few months passed, and the little redheaded musical genius fell in love! With a girl! He was VERY happy, and so was she, and all of his friends had good stuff in their lives as well, so they were all generally happy. Then the little redheaded musical genius decided he was going to get married.
"Who will be my best man in the wedding?" He asked.
"Um, not me," said his generally crazy best friend. "I know you're happy and all, but I think you should wait a bit more than three weeks before getting hitched, sorry."
"Uh, not me," said his friend with the crazy hair. "I'm gonna have to go with Pete on this one. Sorry dude."
"Not me," said his friend with the crazy eyes. "I am also morally opposed to the institution of marriage. Also, why am I always your last choice? I am your busmate! Not cool, dude."
So the little redheaded musical genius pouted for a while, but decided maybe his friends were kind of smart sometimes, so he did not propose and just enjoyed having a girlfriend and they were all pretty happy.
(And his friends were maybe also secretly relieved that the little redheaded musical genius was not going to leave them all to go to Barcelona with his wife.
["Why Barcelona, Pete?"
"Well it's not like he'd go to Barbados, is it? Too much sun."])
Then the little redheaded musical genius's girlfriend broke up with him, for reasons only definitively known to the two of them, but which may or may not have been influenced by an argument about strap-ons. He moped in his room for a few days and did not write any songs and did not produce for any other bands and did not practice his trumpet, and his friends all got very worried.
"Who will help me feel better?" He asked, in a much more pitiful voice than his friends had ever heard him use before.
"I will!" said his generally crazy best friend. "Your moping is distracting me from work."
"I will!" said his friend with the crazy hair. "Your moping is depressing the dog."
"I will!" said his friend with the crazy eyes. "Your moping keeps scaring away my ladies."
"Well TOUGH!" snapped the little redheaded musical genius. "Screw all of you! I'm running away to start a new life in Barcelona!"
("Ha, I told you so!")
And the little redheaded musical genius punched a dent in the side of the bus, then went off to get himself a totally non-vegan pizza and maybe some beer to make himself feel better. But he wasn't really hungry once he got to the pizza parlor, and he didn't much like the taste of beer anymore, and his hand was really starting to hurt, and all in all he wasn't really feeling any better. So he sighed and decided to go back to pouting in his room.
When he got back to his bus and went to his room, however, he found his three crazy friends waiting for him.
In his bed.
Totally naked.
"You really need cheering up," said his friend with the crazy eyes. "And honestly, I don't care about the ladies if you're not happy."
"You really need cheering up," said his friend with the crazy hair. "And honestly, I'm really great at blowjobs, I have improved so much since the last time we did this, it's crazy the tricks Bill knows."
"You really need cheering up," said his generally crazy best friend. "And honestly, you are more important than any of the other stuff I've got going on. Now take off your pants and get in the fucking bed."
So the little redheaded musical genius did just that. And they all had a lot of sex and did not get much sleep that night, and the one with the crazy eyes maybe kept them up wondering if swallowing was vegan or not, and the one with the crazy hair was maybe not as good at blowjobs as he thought, and the generally crazy one maybe tried to take pictures using his cell phone, but the little redheaded musical genius was pretty damn happy anyway. And even if they didn't all live happily ever after, they totally lived well-sexed and happily for a while, which was pretty awesome as far as these things go.
THE END
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