JE/NewS- "Why NewS Didn’t Get a Happy Family Skit Too"
Title: Why NewS Didn’t Get a Happy Family Skit Too
Universe: JE/NewS
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-15
Character/Pairing/s: NewS (mentions of KAT-TUN)
Warnings/Spoilers: the whole RPF thing is enough warning, I think. But it’s uber retarded and cracky if anything else is necessary.
Word Count: 2,860
Summary: Koyama writes the NewS version of the family skit.
Dedication: Nicole- I can’t believe I wrote this. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.
A/N: RPF doesn’t necessarily mean in character I guess. LOL But it was fun to write at…1 in the morning. Oh well. I’ll try and write something not-retarded soon, promise.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
“Akanishi looks good in a dress,” Yamapi declared, after they’d all watched the KAT-TUN Happy Family skit and pretty much agreed that yes, Akanishi did. “Hey…we should do something like that, yeah? It’d be fun! Cool and fun. Like a family.”
“Plus, you look good in a dress too,” Koyama agreed thoughtfully, and then, on Pi’s vaguely betrayed look, waved the frontman off dismissively. “Relax, relax. Everyone else was going to find out eventually anyway.” Pause. “If they didn’t already know, anyway.”
Everyone else raised their hands. “We already knew!”
Yamapi blinked. “What…really? How?”
“Kei-chan sent pictures out on the mailing list this morning. You didn’t get them?”
A beat. “There’s a mailing list?!”
“It’s unofficial,” Koyama explained. “We take pictures of you doing ridiculous things and vote on which one is the cutest. The winner who submitted the picture with the most votes gets to dance next to you in formation that week for the extra camera time.”
Yamapi looked thoughtful. “I guess that’s fair.”
“Anyway!” Koyama declared. “I think you’re onto something, Pi.” He stroked his chin then, looking at once intelligent and devilish. Which was rather impressive as far as his bandmates were concerned, because while the devilish part was easy for most everyone else to get down with a little effort, it was the intelligent part that they sometimes (usually) had trouble pulling off. Doing both at once was Koyama’s special skill, and they all looked up to him for it.
After a minute or two- while still looking intelligent and devilish one might add- Koyama grinned and said, “Are you all thinking what I’m thinking?”
He was greeted with a couple of blank stares. Masuda was actually asleep.
“Ham?” Yamapi suggested, after a moment.
Masuda promptly woke up. “Is delicious?”
Koyama sighed. “Right. I’ll write the skit.”
Everyone cheered. “Yay, Kei-chan always knows best!”
And so Koyama wrote the skit.
And the results were pretty damned brilliant too, if he did say so himself. None of that traditional, fluffy nuclear family crap- he was going for edgy here. Because clearly, the JE costume designers did not consider NewS as edgy as KAT-TUN. Well, this little number would show them. It better anyway, because quite frankly, Keichiro was sick of wearing clothes that looked like they were made out of quilts colorblind little old ladies had sewn together for orphaned retarded kids at their annual charity quilting club meeting, the end products of which were then methodically shredded and finger-painted on by said retarded kids before being converted into stage ensembles for Broadway-musical-style-hobos-with-British-accents by some enterprising, batshit-insane-musical-theater-major-slash-aspiring-costume-designer. He was sick of wearing those. He wanted some leather. Or pleather at the very least, preferably with stylishly arranged feathers around the collar.
And this-he was certain-was their ticket to permanently securing those hot KAT-TUN-esque outfits.
Because it was edgy like that.
Proud of his good work, he called everyone together for a group read upon finishing, triumphantly presenting a copy of the script to each his bandmates. Well, to each of his bandmates except for Kusano, because the jury was still out on whether the kid could actually read or not, and Koyama wasn’t a fan of wasting paper in the likely case that his young friend actually couldn’t. He was edgy in an environmentally friendly way, after all.
So they made Kusano look on with Tegoshi, who was probably the only one of the group who didn’t mind reading it out loud to the other boy.
And everything was going swimmingly for about three seconds after that too, at least, until everyone looked past the title page and glanced down the cast list.
Tegoshi raised his hand first. “Kei-chan,” he said, with no ill-intentions, “there’s no mom in this script.”
Shige sputtered. “That’s the first thing you notice that’s wrong with this list?”
Uchi looked offended. “Mothers are very important.”
“Very important,” Masuda agreed.
The three of them thus proceeded to ignore Shige’s points and looked at Koyama expectantly.
He sighed. “The mother is dead.”
A moment.
Tegoshi and Uchi started crying.
Ryo threw down his script angrily. “You fucking asshole, look what you did!” he snarled at Koyama, and then did his best to comfort the crying babies by rubbing circles on each of their backs and murmuring in soothing tones about how he was going to rip Koyama’s head off of his shoulders and spit down his neck and then feed the rest of his body to roving gangs of wild street cats.
Of course, it only made Tegoshi cry harder. “Poor Kei-chan!” he wailed.
In the meantime, Masu finally realized that he’d been cast as the family dog. “Why am I the dog?” he exclaimed, and pouted.
No one else looked surprised.
Masu crossed his arms. “Well?”
Tegoshi rubbed petulantly at his eye with a fist-because he was five years old or something- and tried to keep his bottom lip from quivering. “Puppies are cute! At least you’re not dead!”
Yamapi raised his hand after no one else proved willing to answer as to why Masuda was the family dog. “Oh, me, me! Call on me! I know the answer!”
Koyama pointed at him. “Yamashita-san, hai!”
“It’s because all Masuda really does is eat, sleep, poo, and hump Tegoshi’s leg!”
“Bingo!” Koyama declared. “Ten points! And also proof that casting you as the overachieving-cousin-who-is-good-at-everything-but-who-also-may-or-may-not-have-a-substance-abuse-problem was perfect.”
Yamapi pumped his fists. “I’m winning. Tight.”
“You are? Fuck that, ask another question,” Kusano demanded, growing competitive.
Shige rubbed his temples. “Here’s one. How about… what the hell are you all smoking?”
A beat.
Kusano and Yamapi both raised their hands. “Me, me first!” Kusano demanded, and distracted Yamapi by flicking his ear.
Which-predictably- made Yamapi pause and grab his ear. “Someone’s trying to talk to me again! Denpa go!” He closed his eyes and concentrated real hard on sending a return message.
Kusano grinned, hand still raised. “I know the answer!”
Koyama sighed and pointed at Kusano grudgingly. “Kusano-kun.”
“We are not smoking, because it’s prohibited by the JE code of conduct.”
Silence.
“You’re kind of retarded, aren’t you?” Shige suggested, after a moment.
Koyama grinned. “Which is why he will play the role of the retarded-best-friend-you-had-growing-up-and-who-your-parents-never-wanted-you-to-hang-out-with-because-he-made-you-do-stupid-shit-even-when-you-were-supposed-to-know-better.”
Uchi frowned, wiping the tears from his face. “That’s not nice. Kusano hasn’t made me do anything stupid before. Ever.”
Koyama shrugged. “He probably will. Just give it time.”
A beat.
“Anyway, moving on. Can we please start the practice read? I know the script is probably already perfect as is, but I’d still like to hear it out loud at least once before I submit it to the producers.”
Shige very calmly raised his hand next.
And Koyama really wished these delays could be dealt with after the read, as he was sure whatever problems people were having right now would be completely disregarded by the time they’d heard the whole story. But being the fair one here, he pointed at his left-handed friend and grudgingly allowed him the floor. “Shige. Speak quickly.”
“Okay, I get you as the slightly perverted dad who sexually harasses his daughter after his wife dies and he becomes an alcoholic. I can actually kind of see that. And Tegoshi as the daughter works in my head-somehow-too. Probably because he is still crying. Uchi as the gay son is a given, and no one can fault you for your characterizations of Masu, Yamapi, and Kusano. Hell, even Ryo as the uncle who kills small animals in his basement and stuffs their skins so he can give them as presents to his niece and nephew kind of makes a sick sort of sense, too.”
Koyama, growing impatient, started making waving motions with his hands. “And? And? And? So? Point?”
Shige sighed. “Why,” he began tightly, “am I the Autistic son with Turret’s?”
Koyama coughed. “Well. You see… artistic license and um…”
Yamapi’s eyes popped open, apparently finished with sending his denpa-wave message. “I know!” he said, and raised his hand again.
“Overachiever,” Kusano muttered, because he sure as hell didn’t know. Though it wasn’t really fair because Tegoshi hadn’t gotten that far down in reading him the cast list before the wimp had broken down crying.
“Winner,” Yamapi corrected the youngest boy.
Koyama in the meantime, gladly took the out. “Okay, Yamashita-san, again. Answer please!”
Yamapi looked at Shige then, very serious and with no malice whatsoever. “Your solo during the live show’s ending medley last week.”
Shige blinked. “What does that have to do with Autism and Turret’s?”
A moment.
“Right!” Koyama declared. “As I was saying, artistic license. Let’s get started, shall we?”
And without waiting for an answer, he whipped out his script in one hand and an enormous bottle of beer in the other.
“Tegorin! Oi, Tegorin!” he screamed, deepening his voice just as far as he could make it go.
Everyone stared.
Koyama coughed. “Tegoshi, your line.”
Tegoshi sniffled and looked up from where his face was buried in Ryo’s shoulder. “Eh? Kei-chan…why do you have…” gasp, “beer?”
Koyama fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Because I’m the alcoholic father. Now get over here and let me see your panties.”
“You’re not supposed to have that!” Uchi whined. “No wonder you killed your wife!”
Koyama blinked. “Wait, I didn’t…”
“Ah, Kei-chan is a killer!” Tegoshi sobbed. Uchi promptly joined him.
“Fucking hell,” Ryo muttered, and glared hard at Koyama as he comforted the two crybabies again. “I’m going to kick your ass later.”
“Oh my god,” Shige said, and stood abruptly. “I can’t believe how retarded all of you are.”
And then he stormed off.
The rest of the group stared after him. “That wasn’t nice,” Masu said after a beat. “What’s his problem?”
“I’m going to go get some dinner and forget this ever happened,” Shige added, calling back over his shoulder just as he was about to exit.
“Hey, let’s get ramen, yeah?” Masu suggested, and was-suddenly-right behind Kato in an overly-chummy manner (and how did he do that anyway?). “I love eating a good meal with good friends.”
At the mention of the word friends, Yamapi was suddenly at their side (and how did he do that too?). “Friendship is beautiful!” the frontman declared, and wrapped an arm around the two younger members happily. “Are we friends?”
A moment. “Are you buying?” Masu asked.
“Sure!”
“Friends for life!”
The three left the room.
“That sounds like an idea,” Ryo suggested, when he felt his shirt beginning to get waterlogged. “I’ll buy you two ice cream and then we’ll all call our moms and tell them what a bastard Koyama is.”
Uchi and Tegoshi brightened. “Ice cream?”
Ryo nodded. “My treat. Right after I punch out Koyama and take his wallet.”
Tegoshi giggled, already feeling better. “You’re silly, Ryo-chan.”
“Wait, what about my script reading?” Koyama complained, as he watched his shining moment of triumph beginning to shatter into a million pieces at his feet. “This was not part of the plan. I wrote something brilliant here!”
“It’s a shit script,” Ryo told him, without preamble. “The producers would never approve it anyway.”
Koyama glared down at the shorter boy. “Oh really?”
Never one to back down from a challenge, Ryo detached himself from his charges and stood… on his toes. He looked up at Koyama for the remainder of their height difference, lip curled. “Really.”
“Well let’s see about that!” Koyama shot back, and held his script aloft. “I’m going to submit it right now! They will love it, and you’ll have the pleasure of knowing that you are a horrible critic.”
“They’re gonna throw it back in your face, and then I’m going to punch you in the face like I said I would, because I’m taking your wallet and buying Tego and Uchi ice cream.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Yeah!”
“Yeah?!”
“Yeah!”
The two stormed towards the door, eyes locked in some sort of strange, mortal combat as they made their way towards the producers’ offices.
“You clearly don’t understand a work of literary genius when you see one, my poor countrified friend!”
“You made Uchi and Tego cry!”
Tegoshi sniffled and blinked after the two when he heard his name again. “Oh god, we made them fight!” he panicked (when he finally realized), and quickly stood to go and quell their anger. “Kei-chan, Ryo-chan, I’m sorry!!” the smaller boy called out, running after them with fresh tears pooled in the corners of his eyes all over again. “I’m so sorry!”
And so, Uchi and Kusano were left alone.
“Well, that was fucked up,” Kusano breathed, after a beat. “Now who’s gonna read me the script?”
Uchi just looked stricken. “I want my mommy. And ice cream.”
Sighing sympathetically, Kusano put an arm around the taller boy. “I think that given the shitty week you’ve just had, you’ll need something much stronger than that.”
Uchi blinked. “What do you mean?”
Kusano grinned then, and indicated the poor abandoned bottle of beer on the table with his chin. “Looks like Kei-chan left us a present.”
The other boy’s eyes widened. “Oi…we can’t! It’s not allowed.”
Kusano patted Uchi comfortingly. “Hey, you just got over being sick right? And now the guys are making you listen to all this traumatic stuff… I mean, don’t you want to forget about it for a little bit?”
Uchi blinked. “Well…yeah, but…”
“Man, look who you’re with! If it’s you and me, you know we’ll have a good time, forget our troubles and all of everyone else’s retarded fighting. Heck, we could even go to the park or something. Have a drink and look at puppies and stuff. You like puppies, right?”
“I love puppies.”
“Well, there you go. Besides, you wouldn’t let a kid like me go all by myself with stuff like that, right?”
“…of course not.”
“Sweet!” Kusano stood and swiped up Koyama’s giant bottle of beer. “Let’s go then. The puppies are waiting!”
“Right,” Uchi agreed, beginning to see the potential in Kusano’s plan the more the younger boy spoke about it. “Puppies!”
Bottle of beer between them, the two remaining NewS members made their way to the park for some much needed rest, relaxation, and inebriation.
In the meantime, Koyama and Ryo stood before the SC producers, patiently waiting while they read Koyama’s ingenious script.
“Um,” one began, after he’d finished.
“What, brilliant, right?” Koyama preened.
“I guess it’s better than the “Top Ten Reasons Why Kamenashi is So Great” skit that Kame submitted earlier,” another conceded.
“Ha,” Koyama declared, and looked pointedly at Ryo.
“Congrats on one retard being less retarded than the other retard,” Ryo scoffed.
Koyama ignored him, because he understood that his much-shorter friend was just jealous of his wide-ranging talents. “So,” he began, turning to the executives. “Do we have a go?”
The producers looked at each other.
“It might be funny to see Tegoshi in a dress,” the woman executive suggested after a moment, with a slightly dreamy look on her face.
The two men thought about that too, and after a minute, also got that dreamy look on their faces.
“Sure, you have a go,” they all said, in tandem.
Koyama pumped a fist. “Sweet! I knew it! I am brilliant!”
Ryo sighed. “I don’t believe this shit.”
“I win!” Koyama laughed at him, triumphantly. “Let’s go tell the others about how I was right and you were wrong. Oh boy.”
He bounded out of the office with a particularly gleeful “Wooo!!” and Ryo clenched his teeth (and his fist) and followed, because even if the bastard had gotten the go ahead on the script, Ryo remained 100% intent on punching Koyama out and taking his wallet, since Tegoshi and Uchi still needed their ice cream.
Tegoshi, as it turned out, was the only one still waiting for them back in their dressing room, looking repentant and guilty and all of the other things he could look like that made Ryo instinctively want to snap the spine of whatever had made him look like that. “Tegonyan?”
Upon seeing them, the younger boy promptly broke down crying again. “I’m sorry!” Tegoshi sobbed. “I went chasing after you two but then I got lost because I walked into a wall and my head hurts and then when my vision stopped being black I was still lost and then someone took me back here-and I think he touched my butt-but before I could say anything I looked at the TV and, oh it’s horrible! I didn’t know they’d just go off like that and I told you we weren’t supposed to have beer here!!”
Koyama and Ryo looked at each other. “Wait, what?”
Sniffling, Tegoshi indicated the TV monitor behind them, where pictures of Uchi and Kusano (and the giant bottle of beer from earlier, only now empty) were displayed under the headline, “Breaking NewS!” (hahaha journalists and their stupid puns).
Koyama and Ryo stared.
“What the fuck!?” Ryo shouted.
“Oh goddammit, Kusano,” Koyama cursed, and threw his script to the ground in defeat. “Now we definitely can’t do it.”
Sometimes, Koyama thought, it sucked to always be right about everything.
END
EDITS!!!!!!!!!!!!
Universe: JE/NewS
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-15
Character/Pairing/s: NewS (mentions of KAT-TUN)
Warnings/Spoilers: the whole RPF thing is enough warning, I think. But it’s uber retarded and cracky if anything else is necessary.
Word Count: 2,860
Summary: Koyama writes the NewS version of the family skit.
Dedication: Nicole- I can’t believe I wrote this. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.
A/N: RPF doesn’t necessarily mean in character I guess. LOL But it was fun to write at…1 in the morning. Oh well. I’ll try and write something not-retarded soon, promise.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
“Akanishi looks good in a dress,” Yamapi declared, after they’d all watched the KAT-TUN Happy Family skit and pretty much agreed that yes, Akanishi did. “Hey…we should do something like that, yeah? It’d be fun! Cool and fun. Like a family.”
“Plus, you look good in a dress too,” Koyama agreed thoughtfully, and then, on Pi’s vaguely betrayed look, waved the frontman off dismissively. “Relax, relax. Everyone else was going to find out eventually anyway.” Pause. “If they didn’t already know, anyway.”
Everyone else raised their hands. “We already knew!”
Yamapi blinked. “What…really? How?”
“Kei-chan sent pictures out on the mailing list this morning. You didn’t get them?”
A beat. “There’s a mailing list?!”
“It’s unofficial,” Koyama explained. “We take pictures of you doing ridiculous things and vote on which one is the cutest. The winner who submitted the picture with the most votes gets to dance next to you in formation that week for the extra camera time.”
Yamapi looked thoughtful. “I guess that’s fair.”
“Anyway!” Koyama declared. “I think you’re onto something, Pi.” He stroked his chin then, looking at once intelligent and devilish. Which was rather impressive as far as his bandmates were concerned, because while the devilish part was easy for most everyone else to get down with a little effort, it was the intelligent part that they sometimes (usually) had trouble pulling off. Doing both at once was Koyama’s special skill, and they all looked up to him for it.
After a minute or two- while still looking intelligent and devilish one might add- Koyama grinned and said, “Are you all thinking what I’m thinking?”
He was greeted with a couple of blank stares. Masuda was actually asleep.
“Ham?” Yamapi suggested, after a moment.
Masuda promptly woke up. “Is delicious?”
Koyama sighed. “Right. I’ll write the skit.”
Everyone cheered. “Yay, Kei-chan always knows best!”
And so Koyama wrote the skit.
And the results were pretty damned brilliant too, if he did say so himself. None of that traditional, fluffy nuclear family crap- he was going for edgy here. Because clearly, the JE costume designers did not consider NewS as edgy as KAT-TUN. Well, this little number would show them. It better anyway, because quite frankly, Keichiro was sick of wearing clothes that looked like they were made out of quilts colorblind little old ladies had sewn together for orphaned retarded kids at their annual charity quilting club meeting, the end products of which were then methodically shredded and finger-painted on by said retarded kids before being converted into stage ensembles for Broadway-musical-style-hobos-with-British-accents by some enterprising, batshit-insane-musical-theater-major-slash-aspiring-costume-designer. He was sick of wearing those. He wanted some leather. Or pleather at the very least, preferably with stylishly arranged feathers around the collar.
And this-he was certain-was their ticket to permanently securing those hot KAT-TUN-esque outfits.
Because it was edgy like that.
Proud of his good work, he called everyone together for a group read upon finishing, triumphantly presenting a copy of the script to each his bandmates. Well, to each of his bandmates except for Kusano, because the jury was still out on whether the kid could actually read or not, and Koyama wasn’t a fan of wasting paper in the likely case that his young friend actually couldn’t. He was edgy in an environmentally friendly way, after all.
So they made Kusano look on with Tegoshi, who was probably the only one of the group who didn’t mind reading it out loud to the other boy.
And everything was going swimmingly for about three seconds after that too, at least, until everyone looked past the title page and glanced down the cast list.
Tegoshi raised his hand first. “Kei-chan,” he said, with no ill-intentions, “there’s no mom in this script.”
Shige sputtered. “That’s the first thing you notice that’s wrong with this list?”
Uchi looked offended. “Mothers are very important.”
“Very important,” Masuda agreed.
The three of them thus proceeded to ignore Shige’s points and looked at Koyama expectantly.
He sighed. “The mother is dead.”
A moment.
Tegoshi and Uchi started crying.
Ryo threw down his script angrily. “You fucking asshole, look what you did!” he snarled at Koyama, and then did his best to comfort the crying babies by rubbing circles on each of their backs and murmuring in soothing tones about how he was going to rip Koyama’s head off of his shoulders and spit down his neck and then feed the rest of his body to roving gangs of wild street cats.
Of course, it only made Tegoshi cry harder. “Poor Kei-chan!” he wailed.
In the meantime, Masu finally realized that he’d been cast as the family dog. “Why am I the dog?” he exclaimed, and pouted.
No one else looked surprised.
Masu crossed his arms. “Well?”
Tegoshi rubbed petulantly at his eye with a fist-because he was five years old or something- and tried to keep his bottom lip from quivering. “Puppies are cute! At least you’re not dead!”
Yamapi raised his hand after no one else proved willing to answer as to why Masuda was the family dog. “Oh, me, me! Call on me! I know the answer!”
Koyama pointed at him. “Yamashita-san, hai!”
“It’s because all Masuda really does is eat, sleep, poo, and hump Tegoshi’s leg!”
“Bingo!” Koyama declared. “Ten points! And also proof that casting you as the overachieving-cousin-who-is-good-at-everything-but-who-also-may-or-may-not-have-a-substance-abuse-problem was perfect.”
Yamapi pumped his fists. “I’m winning. Tight.”
“You are? Fuck that, ask another question,” Kusano demanded, growing competitive.
Shige rubbed his temples. “Here’s one. How about… what the hell are you all smoking?”
A beat.
Kusano and Yamapi both raised their hands. “Me, me first!” Kusano demanded, and distracted Yamapi by flicking his ear.
Which-predictably- made Yamapi pause and grab his ear. “Someone’s trying to talk to me again! Denpa go!” He closed his eyes and concentrated real hard on sending a return message.
Kusano grinned, hand still raised. “I know the answer!”
Koyama sighed and pointed at Kusano grudgingly. “Kusano-kun.”
“We are not smoking, because it’s prohibited by the JE code of conduct.”
Silence.
“You’re kind of retarded, aren’t you?” Shige suggested, after a moment.
Koyama grinned. “Which is why he will play the role of the retarded-best-friend-you-had-growing-up-and-who-your-parents-never-wanted-you-to-hang-out-with-because-he-made-you-do-stupid-shit-even-when-you-were-supposed-to-know-better.”
Uchi frowned, wiping the tears from his face. “That’s not nice. Kusano hasn’t made me do anything stupid before. Ever.”
Koyama shrugged. “He probably will. Just give it time.”
A beat.
“Anyway, moving on. Can we please start the practice read? I know the script is probably already perfect as is, but I’d still like to hear it out loud at least once before I submit it to the producers.”
Shige very calmly raised his hand next.
And Koyama really wished these delays could be dealt with after the read, as he was sure whatever problems people were having right now would be completely disregarded by the time they’d heard the whole story. But being the fair one here, he pointed at his left-handed friend and grudgingly allowed him the floor. “Shige. Speak quickly.”
“Okay, I get you as the slightly perverted dad who sexually harasses his daughter after his wife dies and he becomes an alcoholic. I can actually kind of see that. And Tegoshi as the daughter works in my head-somehow-too. Probably because he is still crying. Uchi as the gay son is a given, and no one can fault you for your characterizations of Masu, Yamapi, and Kusano. Hell, even Ryo as the uncle who kills small animals in his basement and stuffs their skins so he can give them as presents to his niece and nephew kind of makes a sick sort of sense, too.”
Koyama, growing impatient, started making waving motions with his hands. “And? And? And? So? Point?”
Shige sighed. “Why,” he began tightly, “am I the Autistic son with Turret’s?”
Koyama coughed. “Well. You see… artistic license and um…”
Yamapi’s eyes popped open, apparently finished with sending his denpa-wave message. “I know!” he said, and raised his hand again.
“Overachiever,” Kusano muttered, because he sure as hell didn’t know. Though it wasn’t really fair because Tegoshi hadn’t gotten that far down in reading him the cast list before the wimp had broken down crying.
“Winner,” Yamapi corrected the youngest boy.
Koyama in the meantime, gladly took the out. “Okay, Yamashita-san, again. Answer please!”
Yamapi looked at Shige then, very serious and with no malice whatsoever. “Your solo during the live show’s ending medley last week.”
Shige blinked. “What does that have to do with Autism and Turret’s?”
A moment.
“Right!” Koyama declared. “As I was saying, artistic license. Let’s get started, shall we?”
And without waiting for an answer, he whipped out his script in one hand and an enormous bottle of beer in the other.
“Tegorin! Oi, Tegorin!” he screamed, deepening his voice just as far as he could make it go.
Everyone stared.
Koyama coughed. “Tegoshi, your line.”
Tegoshi sniffled and looked up from where his face was buried in Ryo’s shoulder. “Eh? Kei-chan…why do you have…” gasp, “beer?”
Koyama fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Because I’m the alcoholic father. Now get over here and let me see your panties.”
“You’re not supposed to have that!” Uchi whined. “No wonder you killed your wife!”
Koyama blinked. “Wait, I didn’t…”
“Ah, Kei-chan is a killer!” Tegoshi sobbed. Uchi promptly joined him.
“Fucking hell,” Ryo muttered, and glared hard at Koyama as he comforted the two crybabies again. “I’m going to kick your ass later.”
“Oh my god,” Shige said, and stood abruptly. “I can’t believe how retarded all of you are.”
And then he stormed off.
The rest of the group stared after him. “That wasn’t nice,” Masu said after a beat. “What’s his problem?”
“I’m going to go get some dinner and forget this ever happened,” Shige added, calling back over his shoulder just as he was about to exit.
“Hey, let’s get ramen, yeah?” Masu suggested, and was-suddenly-right behind Kato in an overly-chummy manner (and how did he do that anyway?). “I love eating a good meal with good friends.”
At the mention of the word friends, Yamapi was suddenly at their side (and how did he do that too?). “Friendship is beautiful!” the frontman declared, and wrapped an arm around the two younger members happily. “Are we friends?”
A moment. “Are you buying?” Masu asked.
“Sure!”
“Friends for life!”
The three left the room.
“That sounds like an idea,” Ryo suggested, when he felt his shirt beginning to get waterlogged. “I’ll buy you two ice cream and then we’ll all call our moms and tell them what a bastard Koyama is.”
Uchi and Tegoshi brightened. “Ice cream?”
Ryo nodded. “My treat. Right after I punch out Koyama and take his wallet.”
Tegoshi giggled, already feeling better. “You’re silly, Ryo-chan.”
“Wait, what about my script reading?” Koyama complained, as he watched his shining moment of triumph beginning to shatter into a million pieces at his feet. “This was not part of the plan. I wrote something brilliant here!”
“It’s a shit script,” Ryo told him, without preamble. “The producers would never approve it anyway.”
Koyama glared down at the shorter boy. “Oh really?”
Never one to back down from a challenge, Ryo detached himself from his charges and stood… on his toes. He looked up at Koyama for the remainder of their height difference, lip curled. “Really.”
“Well let’s see about that!” Koyama shot back, and held his script aloft. “I’m going to submit it right now! They will love it, and you’ll have the pleasure of knowing that you are a horrible critic.”
“They’re gonna throw it back in your face, and then I’m going to punch you in the face like I said I would, because I’m taking your wallet and buying Tego and Uchi ice cream.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Yeah!”
“Yeah?!”
“Yeah!”
The two stormed towards the door, eyes locked in some sort of strange, mortal combat as they made their way towards the producers’ offices.
“You clearly don’t understand a work of literary genius when you see one, my poor countrified friend!”
“You made Uchi and Tego cry!”
Tegoshi sniffled and blinked after the two when he heard his name again. “Oh god, we made them fight!” he panicked (when he finally realized), and quickly stood to go and quell their anger. “Kei-chan, Ryo-chan, I’m sorry!!” the smaller boy called out, running after them with fresh tears pooled in the corners of his eyes all over again. “I’m so sorry!”
And so, Uchi and Kusano were left alone.
“Well, that was fucked up,” Kusano breathed, after a beat. “Now who’s gonna read me the script?”
Uchi just looked stricken. “I want my mommy. And ice cream.”
Sighing sympathetically, Kusano put an arm around the taller boy. “I think that given the shitty week you’ve just had, you’ll need something much stronger than that.”
Uchi blinked. “What do you mean?”
Kusano grinned then, and indicated the poor abandoned bottle of beer on the table with his chin. “Looks like Kei-chan left us a present.”
The other boy’s eyes widened. “Oi…we can’t! It’s not allowed.”
Kusano patted Uchi comfortingly. “Hey, you just got over being sick right? And now the guys are making you listen to all this traumatic stuff… I mean, don’t you want to forget about it for a little bit?”
Uchi blinked. “Well…yeah, but…”
“Man, look who you’re with! If it’s you and me, you know we’ll have a good time, forget our troubles and all of everyone else’s retarded fighting. Heck, we could even go to the park or something. Have a drink and look at puppies and stuff. You like puppies, right?”
“I love puppies.”
“Well, there you go. Besides, you wouldn’t let a kid like me go all by myself with stuff like that, right?”
“…of course not.”
“Sweet!” Kusano stood and swiped up Koyama’s giant bottle of beer. “Let’s go then. The puppies are waiting!”
“Right,” Uchi agreed, beginning to see the potential in Kusano’s plan the more the younger boy spoke about it. “Puppies!”
Bottle of beer between them, the two remaining NewS members made their way to the park for some much needed rest, relaxation, and inebriation.
In the meantime, Koyama and Ryo stood before the SC producers, patiently waiting while they read Koyama’s ingenious script.
“Um,” one began, after he’d finished.
“What, brilliant, right?” Koyama preened.
“I guess it’s better than the “Top Ten Reasons Why Kamenashi is So Great” skit that Kame submitted earlier,” another conceded.
“Ha,” Koyama declared, and looked pointedly at Ryo.
“Congrats on one retard being less retarded than the other retard,” Ryo scoffed.
Koyama ignored him, because he understood that his much-shorter friend was just jealous of his wide-ranging talents. “So,” he began, turning to the executives. “Do we have a go?”
The producers looked at each other.
“It might be funny to see Tegoshi in a dress,” the woman executive suggested after a moment, with a slightly dreamy look on her face.
The two men thought about that too, and after a minute, also got that dreamy look on their faces.
“Sure, you have a go,” they all said, in tandem.
Koyama pumped a fist. “Sweet! I knew it! I am brilliant!”
Ryo sighed. “I don’t believe this shit.”
“I win!” Koyama laughed at him, triumphantly. “Let’s go tell the others about how I was right and you were wrong. Oh boy.”
He bounded out of the office with a particularly gleeful “Wooo!!” and Ryo clenched his teeth (and his fist) and followed, because even if the bastard had gotten the go ahead on the script, Ryo remained 100% intent on punching Koyama out and taking his wallet, since Tegoshi and Uchi still needed their ice cream.
Tegoshi, as it turned out, was the only one still waiting for them back in their dressing room, looking repentant and guilty and all of the other things he could look like that made Ryo instinctively want to snap the spine of whatever had made him look like that. “Tegonyan?”
Upon seeing them, the younger boy promptly broke down crying again. “I’m sorry!” Tegoshi sobbed. “I went chasing after you two but then I got lost because I walked into a wall and my head hurts and then when my vision stopped being black I was still lost and then someone took me back here-and I think he touched my butt-but before I could say anything I looked at the TV and, oh it’s horrible! I didn’t know they’d just go off like that and I told you we weren’t supposed to have beer here!!”
Koyama and Ryo looked at each other. “Wait, what?”
Sniffling, Tegoshi indicated the TV monitor behind them, where pictures of Uchi and Kusano (and the giant bottle of beer from earlier, only now empty) were displayed under the headline, “Breaking NewS!” (hahaha journalists and their stupid puns).
Koyama and Ryo stared.
“What the fuck!?” Ryo shouted.
“Oh goddammit, Kusano,” Koyama cursed, and threw his script to the ground in defeat. “Now we definitely can’t do it.”
Sometimes, Koyama thought, it sucked to always be right about everything.
END
EDITS!!!!!!!!!!!!