what the hell, we'll try it.
Hello. This started out as text message fic for dreamofthem (and I had promised to forward further installments to hatoyona and ratherblank), however I was hit unexpectedly with a case of Teenage Angst and ended up writing nearly all of it one afternoon a couple of weeks ago in a fit of rage. Which is probably why Ryan Ross takes such a beating. Anyway, it amuses me every time I read it, so I thought it might amuse you as well. Um, treating this as anything other then insight into how Fueled By Ramen actually works in my brain (laundry reminder emails! houses in close proximity to each other! hand-me-downs from My Chem!) would be foolhardy.
A Story About Adam T. Siska And His Insane Insatiable Hunger
“Bill,” he said, turning around, “why is Ryan Ross in your refrigerator?”
William shrugged. “Pete told me to keep an eye on him until we went to England.”
Siska woke up with this insane insatiable hunger. Like, seriously, he was going to die if he didn’t get a sandwich right away.
“We’re going to England!” said William, languishing on the bed behind him. William was kind of like a cat. A really sexy one. They’d had a nice night together last night, except Siska couldn’t remember it because he was so hungry. “I need a sandwich,” he told William. William frowned. “Are you packed for England? The festival, remember?” but Siska already had his head in Bill’s refrigerator. And he had just discovered something terrible.
“Bill,” he said, turning around, “why is Ryan Ross in your refrigerator?”
William shrugged. “Pete told me to keep an eye on him until we went to England.”
“And you put him in your refrigerator?”
“Can I come out now?” said Ryan, clutching a bottle of beer. “I’m cold. And, as the child of an alcoholic, the sight of all this booze brings back repressed memories. Really, it’s offensive. I might cry.” He took a slow deliberate sip.
“You’re a hypocrite,” said Siska. “Hey, can you move over a little? Thanks. I just want to see behind you-”
And it was then that Siska discovered a second terrible thing about Bill’s refrigerator. “William,” he said, brow furrowed. “There is no food in your refrigerator.”
William shook his head.
Siska stared at him.
Ryan took another slow sip.
William looked past Siska to Ryan. He licked his lips.
Siska picked up his jacket and left.
Siska went to The Butcher’s house. “Billy has Ryan Ross in his refrigerator,” he said, going straight to the fridge.
“Crazy bastard,” said The Butcher. He seemed rather unconcerned. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that he had reached enlightenment. Also, he was folding underwear. Folding underwear usually made Siska feel zen too.
“Shouldn’t we intervene?” The Butcher’s fridge smelled like death and looked like the Plague. Siska thought he might vomit.
“No,” said The Butcher. “I’m sure we’ll see the both of them on the plane tomorrow morning.”
“I think Bill wants to eat him.” Although, the later it got, the more likely Siska was to eat a member of Panic! At The Disco as well. Seriously, he was going to die if he didn’t get a sandwich. He wouldn’t eat Ryan though. Too skinny. Brendon would taste like soy and Jon was a friend.
“You can’t eat Spencer,” said The Butcher, blinking at Siska serenely. “He’s the only sane one.”
“Fuck,” said Siska unhappily and he left the apartment.
“Patrick,” said Siska, aghast. “Why don’t you, why don’t you, of all people, you, of upstanding citizenship and hygienic practices and attention to detail, why don’t you have food in your kitchen?”
Siska was a little teary-eyed. His stomach growled like teddy bears. It was worse than the time he went to jail. Patrick spread his hands, looking embarrassed. “I’ve been busy,” he said. “And as we’re leaving tomorrow, I figured I wouldn’t bother-”
Siska clutched his tummy and moaned. Patrick raised an eyebrow. “I have hot chocolate, if you want some.”
“What could possibly be more important than food?” he demanded, watching Patrick open the cupboard and take out packets of instant hot chocolate. “Patrick, what?”
Patrick was silent. Siska was horrified. “You’re in love!”
“What? No.”
“You are! When people are in love, they refuse to answer questions about their personal lives! They go mysteriously silent and let the pauses drag on dramatically!”
Siska was, it had to be said, going a little crazy from lack of food. And his stomach hurt. However, Patrick nodded. “That’s true,” he said. “I have been using the verbal equivalent of the ellipses more often. . .”
Siska voiced his agreement.
“Perhaps I am in love,” said Patrick with a shrug.
“With whom?” demanded Siska.
“Pete, probably,” said Patrick. “Hey, this is over a year old. Do you still want it?”
“No,” said Siska. “I’m going to Pete’s house. Pete always has food. But thank you.” He clasped Patrick’s hands. “Thank you. You are the first person to be properly helpful all day. Bill is a cannibal and The Butcher only had death in his refrigerator.”
“You won’t tell him,” said Patrick. “You know Pete, he might think too hard about it and it will blow up his brain. I should be there so he doesn’t hurt himself.”
“Don’t worry,” said Siska. His stomach growled. “I won’t tell.”
Pete was sitting on his couch and watching High School Musical. He was looking pretty pathetic, so Siska helped himself to more baloney then he might have otherwise.
“Ashley Tisdale, you saucy minx,” Pete sighed aloud. Siska squinted. He didn’t really dig the underage look.
“Your life is really sad,” said Siska, opening up the refrigerator and peering around for more ingredients. Pete had fresh salad! Siska loved Pete, and his well-stocked refrigerator. “Dude, you need to get laid.”
He paused. Did that count as giving Patrick away?
“I only want to get laid by Patrick,” Pete explained. “But the homophobic media is really homophobic. Maybe I should move to Canada.”
Siska didn’t see what Canada had to do with Patrick. “Canada? Dude, what about New Jersey?” New Jersey didn’t have much to do with Patrick either. Siska didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. My Chemical Romance scared him, even if they were nice about handing down clothing they didn’t wear anymore.
“I thought the media would be nicer up there,” Pete said.
That was the stupidest fucking thing Siska had ever heard. “That’s bullshit and you’re an asshole,” he said, putting all of Pete’s juiceboxes in a plastic bag and resolving to go straight to Patrick’s and tell him how stupid Pete was. “Go move to Jersey! Chicago doesn't want assholes like you." Siska stomped out, furious. Despite his well-stocked refrigerator, Pete could be a real douche. And Patrick was so nice, even if he didn’t have food. It wasn’t fair at all.
His stomach growled traitorously. Groaning, he stomped back in and took the rest of Pete’s peanut butter and his dvd of High School Musical. He eyed Pete with disdain. "Have you even tried talking to Patrick?"
Pete looked him like he was the stupid one. "Why the fuck would I do that? I'm in love with him!!!"
Siska threw a juicebox at Pete's head and stomped out. He stomped all the way over Patrick’s house and threw himself on Patrick’s couch. “Pete’s an asshole,” he announced.
“Yeah, and? Did you get anything to eat? We can go get something, you know.” Patrick was looking zen and folding socks. Siska wondered if it was FBR laundry day. He must have missed the email.
“No,” said Siska. “He’s a super-asshole. Like Superman, but stupid and ugly.”
“Hey,” said Patrick, frowning. “I like him, you know?”
“I know,” said Siska, opening up the can of peanut butter. “He’s in love with you too.”
Patrick stopped folding socks. “What?”
“He wants to move to Jersey or Canada. He’s afraid of the media.” Siska put High School Musical in the dvd player. He could use a little cheering up.
“That asshole,” said Patrick. “In love? Really?”
“He said that the only person he wants to get laid by is you.”
Patrick said, “I never said anything about getting laid.”
“Yeah, well. Pete.”
“Pete.”
They sighed. Patrick rolled his eyes. “I better go talk to him, seeing as we are in love.”
“Yeah.”
Patrick left. Siska didn’t much like Patrick’s apartment without Patrick, so he went back to William’s.
William opened the door. “Siska!” he said, delighted. “Come in!”
Ryan Ross was sitting on the table in the kitchen, fully clothed and looking bored. “You’re alive!” said Siska.
“Yeah,” said Ryan. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know,” said Siska, feeling at peace with the world as William draped himself around his shoulders. “I found food at Pete’s house. Would you like some peanut butter?”
Ryan’s eyes lit up. “That’s one of the two foods I eat!” he said.
Siska pulled out juiceboxes and peanut butter, and the three sat down together, and ate a hearty meal.
A Story About Adam T. Siska And His Insane Insatiable Hunger
“Bill,” he said, turning around, “why is Ryan Ross in your refrigerator?”
William shrugged. “Pete told me to keep an eye on him until we went to England.”
Siska woke up with this insane insatiable hunger. Like, seriously, he was going to die if he didn’t get a sandwich right away.
“We’re going to England!” said William, languishing on the bed behind him. William was kind of like a cat. A really sexy one. They’d had a nice night together last night, except Siska couldn’t remember it because he was so hungry. “I need a sandwich,” he told William. William frowned. “Are you packed for England? The festival, remember?” but Siska already had his head in Bill’s refrigerator. And he had just discovered something terrible.
“Bill,” he said, turning around, “why is Ryan Ross in your refrigerator?”
William shrugged. “Pete told me to keep an eye on him until we went to England.”
“And you put him in your refrigerator?”
“Can I come out now?” said Ryan, clutching a bottle of beer. “I’m cold. And, as the child of an alcoholic, the sight of all this booze brings back repressed memories. Really, it’s offensive. I might cry.” He took a slow deliberate sip.
“You’re a hypocrite,” said Siska. “Hey, can you move over a little? Thanks. I just want to see behind you-”
And it was then that Siska discovered a second terrible thing about Bill’s refrigerator. “William,” he said, brow furrowed. “There is no food in your refrigerator.”
William shook his head.
Siska stared at him.
Ryan took another slow sip.
William looked past Siska to Ryan. He licked his lips.
Siska picked up his jacket and left.
Siska went to The Butcher’s house. “Billy has Ryan Ross in his refrigerator,” he said, going straight to the fridge.
“Crazy bastard,” said The Butcher. He seemed rather unconcerned. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that he had reached enlightenment. Also, he was folding underwear. Folding underwear usually made Siska feel zen too.
“Shouldn’t we intervene?” The Butcher’s fridge smelled like death and looked like the Plague. Siska thought he might vomit.
“No,” said The Butcher. “I’m sure we’ll see the both of them on the plane tomorrow morning.”
“I think Bill wants to eat him.” Although, the later it got, the more likely Siska was to eat a member of Panic! At The Disco as well. Seriously, he was going to die if he didn’t get a sandwich. He wouldn’t eat Ryan though. Too skinny. Brendon would taste like soy and Jon was a friend.
“You can’t eat Spencer,” said The Butcher, blinking at Siska serenely. “He’s the only sane one.”
“Fuck,” said Siska unhappily and he left the apartment.
“Patrick,” said Siska, aghast. “Why don’t you, why don’t you, of all people, you, of upstanding citizenship and hygienic practices and attention to detail, why don’t you have food in your kitchen?”
Siska was a little teary-eyed. His stomach growled like teddy bears. It was worse than the time he went to jail. Patrick spread his hands, looking embarrassed. “I’ve been busy,” he said. “And as we’re leaving tomorrow, I figured I wouldn’t bother-”
Siska clutched his tummy and moaned. Patrick raised an eyebrow. “I have hot chocolate, if you want some.”
“What could possibly be more important than food?” he demanded, watching Patrick open the cupboard and take out packets of instant hot chocolate. “Patrick, what?”
Patrick was silent. Siska was horrified. “You’re in love!”
“What? No.”
“You are! When people are in love, they refuse to answer questions about their personal lives! They go mysteriously silent and let the pauses drag on dramatically!”
Siska was, it had to be said, going a little crazy from lack of food. And his stomach hurt. However, Patrick nodded. “That’s true,” he said. “I have been using the verbal equivalent of the ellipses more often. . .”
Siska voiced his agreement.
“Perhaps I am in love,” said Patrick with a shrug.
“With whom?” demanded Siska.
“Pete, probably,” said Patrick. “Hey, this is over a year old. Do you still want it?”
“No,” said Siska. “I’m going to Pete’s house. Pete always has food. But thank you.” He clasped Patrick’s hands. “Thank you. You are the first person to be properly helpful all day. Bill is a cannibal and The Butcher only had death in his refrigerator.”
“You won’t tell him,” said Patrick. “You know Pete, he might think too hard about it and it will blow up his brain. I should be there so he doesn’t hurt himself.”
“Don’t worry,” said Siska. His stomach growled. “I won’t tell.”
Pete was sitting on his couch and watching High School Musical. He was looking pretty pathetic, so Siska helped himself to more baloney then he might have otherwise.
“Ashley Tisdale, you saucy minx,” Pete sighed aloud. Siska squinted. He didn’t really dig the underage look.
“Your life is really sad,” said Siska, opening up the refrigerator and peering around for more ingredients. Pete had fresh salad! Siska loved Pete, and his well-stocked refrigerator. “Dude, you need to get laid.”
He paused. Did that count as giving Patrick away?
“I only want to get laid by Patrick,” Pete explained. “But the homophobic media is really homophobic. Maybe I should move to Canada.”
Siska didn’t see what Canada had to do with Patrick. “Canada? Dude, what about New Jersey?” New Jersey didn’t have much to do with Patrick either. Siska didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. My Chemical Romance scared him, even if they were nice about handing down clothing they didn’t wear anymore.
“I thought the media would be nicer up there,” Pete said.
That was the stupidest fucking thing Siska had ever heard. “That’s bullshit and you’re an asshole,” he said, putting all of Pete’s juiceboxes in a plastic bag and resolving to go straight to Patrick’s and tell him how stupid Pete was. “Go move to Jersey! Chicago doesn't want assholes like you." Siska stomped out, furious. Despite his well-stocked refrigerator, Pete could be a real douche. And Patrick was so nice, even if he didn’t have food. It wasn’t fair at all.
His stomach growled traitorously. Groaning, he stomped back in and took the rest of Pete’s peanut butter and his dvd of High School Musical. He eyed Pete with disdain. "Have you even tried talking to Patrick?"
Pete looked him like he was the stupid one. "Why the fuck would I do that? I'm in love with him!!!"
Siska threw a juicebox at Pete's head and stomped out. He stomped all the way over Patrick’s house and threw himself on Patrick’s couch. “Pete’s an asshole,” he announced.
“Yeah, and? Did you get anything to eat? We can go get something, you know.” Patrick was looking zen and folding socks. Siska wondered if it was FBR laundry day. He must have missed the email.
“No,” said Siska. “He’s a super-asshole. Like Superman, but stupid and ugly.”
“Hey,” said Patrick, frowning. “I like him, you know?”
“I know,” said Siska, opening up the can of peanut butter. “He’s in love with you too.”
Patrick stopped folding socks. “What?”
“He wants to move to Jersey or Canada. He’s afraid of the media.” Siska put High School Musical in the dvd player. He could use a little cheering up.
“That asshole,” said Patrick. “In love? Really?”
“He said that the only person he wants to get laid by is you.”
Patrick said, “I never said anything about getting laid.”
“Yeah, well. Pete.”
“Pete.”
They sighed. Patrick rolled his eyes. “I better go talk to him, seeing as we are in love.”
“Yeah.”
Patrick left. Siska didn’t much like Patrick’s apartment without Patrick, so he went back to William’s.
William opened the door. “Siska!” he said, delighted. “Come in!”
Ryan Ross was sitting on the table in the kitchen, fully clothed and looking bored. “You’re alive!” said Siska.
“Yeah,” said Ryan. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know,” said Siska, feeling at peace with the world as William draped himself around his shoulders. “I found food at Pete’s house. Would you like some peanut butter?”
Ryan’s eyes lit up. “That’s one of the two foods I eat!” he said.
Siska pulled out juiceboxes and peanut butter, and the three sat down together, and ate a hearty meal.