Disclaimer: I don't own Sing! 2016. I like it, but I don't own it. I don't own any real-life books or brands mentioned in the story either. Just in case anybody reading this gets any weird ideas. And finally, don't do this in real life. It either won't work, or it will work and you'll be in deep trouble. Either way, you have been warned, so if this is ever, EVER attempted IRL, please remember that I TOLD YOU SO AND YOU SHOULD'VE HEEDED MY WARNING!

Ash was in the Moon Theatre, happily blocking out the world as she practiced a new song she'd been writing. She'd felt on top of the world and ready to take on anything and anyone until she heard the chiming notification sound from her phone. When she picked it up, it said she'd just received a text from Trash Can. (Trash Can was what she'd renamed Lance on her phone after she saw him with Becky.) Great, another text from Lance, Ash thought. What's it gonna say now? "I was wrong about Becky! I'm sorry! Can you please forgive me?" Or will it be "Please come back! I love you and I can't take us being apart!" Ugh, doesn't he know when to stop? It's been over for ages!

Meena saw Ash's happy mood fading after looking at her phone, and stopped humming the lyrics to a song she'd just heard and went to comfort the miserable porcupine. Meena was rather shy and wasn't the best at socializing, especially in large crowds and loud environments, but you didn't need a Master's degree in Sociology and Psychology to know what had just ruined her friend's good vibes. "Hey there, Ash," Meena greeted, then glanced at her phone. "Lance is bothering you again, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Ash admitted, feeling a lot better for talking about it to Meena, who she now counted as one of her best and closest friends. "Honestly, why doesn't Lance get it by now? It's been over between us since he cheated on me with Becky, but he's been texting me anyway in a last-ditch effort to win me back."

"Who's been texting you?" a voice with a British accent asked. When the girls checked, they saw Johnny, looking worried. "Ash, are you OK?" After peeking at her phone, he stifled a chuckle and went, "Who is Trash Can and what did they do to deserve a name like that?"

"That's what I renamed Lance's contact on my phone to," Ash said. "He keeps texting me and saying that he wants me back and he's sorry and all that mushy stuff. It makes me sick."

"This is harrassment, Ash," Johnny replied, shocked by the number of texts that Trash Can/Lance had sent her. "You should report him to the police. But at the same time, the name Trash Can suits him well. You have good taste in nicknames." When he complimented Ash, he almost blushed, but managed to keep it together . . . just. He didn't want to look crazy in front of the porcupine he was crushing on. Sometimes, he wondered why he even bothered; Ash liked bad boys who played guitar, and Lance was the proof of that. Johnny was a nice guy (or at least, he tried to be) and played piano, not guitar. He was out of his league, and he knew it.

"I agree," Meena replied. "But let's face it, you have a hopelessly lazy ex who'll probably just stick to texts. Just don't reply to them, or he'll send more. Lance is obsessed with you, Ash."

Call it bad timing or a jinx if you want, but only a few seconds later, Ash's phone beeped, and Ash saw it was yet another text from Trash Can/Lance. But unlike the other texts where Lance was pleading for Ash's forgiveness/trying to justify his actions and make it seem like Ash's fault Becky was even there, this one made Ash's blood run cold.

This is it. You haven't responded to my texts, so I'll come round to that stupid Moon Theatre and say what I need to say myself on Friday, at 2 PM sharp. Tell your dumb theatre buddies to get lost, because I need to talk to you alone, if you know what I mean. ;-)
Lance.

Ash's phone slipped onto her lap in shock after she read that text. When Meena and Johnny read it, they were also suitably horrified. From what they knew about Lance, he wasn't a particularly nice guy, but this was just plain stalking.

"He's coming here?" Ash panicked. "Oh, no, no, no, no! What do I do? I don't want to see him, but he's coming here! He knows I'll be here!"

"Who's coming here?" Nancy asked, walking in with a half-eaten cupcake that Meena had baked and brought in earlier in her hand. "Are you having trouble with Lance? Has he been calling you?"

"He has," Ash stammered, tears brimming in her eyes. "I don't answer them, but he won't stop and now he's coming here!"

"Don't panic, OK?" Nancy (Mike's girlfriend, in case you guys forgot) advised, putting a small hand on Ash's side and suddenly retracted it after some of Ash's quills pricked her. "If your deadbeat ex Lance shows up, remember that you've got us. We're here for you, Ash."

"Wait a minute, Ash," Johnny mused. "That text says that Lance is going to come here at Friday, and today is a Monday. That means we have four days to figure out how to keep him away from here, and away from Ash."

"Keep who away from Ash, Johnny?" It was Buster Moon, owner of the Moon Theatre, along with Mike, Rosita, Eddie and Gunter. "Please say it's not Lance you were just talking about. I only needed one look at him to realize that he possessed the attitude of a music star, but not the talent of one. That's why he's not with us now to hear me say that."

Meena erupted into a fit of the giggles, and since laughter is contagious, it wasn't long before Johnny became 'infected', then Nancy, Buster, Rosita, Mike, Eddie, Gunter, and then finally Ash, in that order. Soon, they were all laughing about how brutally accurate Buster's description of Lance truly was.

"Oh, man, Buster," Johnny laughed, tears of laughter streaking down his face like tiny waterfalls. "If you say stuff like that about Lance, I'm scared to hear what you say about me behind my back!"

"I'm not that cruel to everyone, Johnny!" Buster argued, with an almost hurt tone in his voice. "In fact, you know what? I'll apologize about what I said, right here, right now. I am incredibly sorry about the mean, awful, hurtful, accurate things I just said." From there, any hope of getting the theatre team to stop laughing had gone.

20 minutes of sitcom-style hysterical laughter later, Gunter wiped his eyes and caught his breath. "Wow, Buster, I never knew you were so funny! Zat has lifted ze mood after ze texts, no?"

"Oh, right," Ash recalled, "those texts." She sighed, scratching her arm absentmindedly. "I know he's not going to be here for another four days, but I really hope that I don't run into him going home. He know where I live and how to get there."

"I'll walk home with you, Ash," Johnny volunteered, in an effort to help the porcupine he had a secret crush on. "He wouldn't approach you if you had company. Besides, the texts gave you a shock. Having some company while you walk home could increase your mood."

"Johnny is right," Meena agreed. "I'll walk with you too, Ash."

"I could suggest a new route for you to take to get home if you want," Buster suggested. "Lance is a nasty piece of work."

"I'll drop you off at your house in my van after practice," Rosita offered.

Ash teared up when she realized that her friends were so eager to help her with her situation with Lance. She now knew that her 'dumb theatre friends' (according to Lance) were with her for life, not like some friends she'd had earlier on, who used her as something you showed off to your friends because having a singer friend boosted their reputation by default. No. These guys were true friends.

"Aw, thanks, guys," Ash said tearfully. "You're the best." Personally, she felt especially touched by Johnny's offer to walk home with her, as she had a crush on him and didn't want to look too clingy. Besides, what if he thought she was a psycho and it drove him away from her forever? She didn't want to give him a bad impression of her.

"Yeah, we already know that, Ash," Mike arrogantly blurted out, going to pick up his hat and walk out, but instead managing to miss his hat entirely, and clumsily fall face first into a jar of odd white paste. Johnny sniggered, but wisely hid his amused smile behind the sleeve of his leather jacket. Mike shot him a death glare, turned around and nullified the death glare by immediately falling face-first into a jar of glitter, both of his legs sticking out of the jar. That's when Johnny decided to outright laugh at the enraged and embarrassed mouse. So does Buster, Ash, and the rest of the team. Even Nancy was laughing, something Mike found especially humiliating. Somebody (Mike suspected Buster) lifted him out by holding onto his leg and set him back on his feet, but that only fuelled the laughter, as now everyone in the Moon theatre could see that the white paste made the glitter stick to his face like glue, making it look like he was wearing a glittery ski mask.

"Here, Mike," Meena sniggered, "have a face wipe." Mike grabbed it, too embarrassed about how his face looked to face Meena, who he would normally insult without thinking. After hurriedly thanking her, he took off for the little boys' room in a flash.

"That gives me an idea," Johnny mused, catching the attention of Ash, who seemed rather curious about her friend's mumblings. What if he was ill and he didn't know it yet? Ash wouldn't let someone she cared about get sick right under her nose!

"Johnny, are you OK?" Ash asked, looking at Johnny strangely. Johnny inwardly panicked when he saw that look on Ash's face. He didn't want to look weird, especially since he wanted to ask her out. He had to think of something to say that didn't make him look like he was crazy or an airhead.

"Oh, I'm fine, I've just been hit by a sudden burst of inspiration after Mike fell into that weird white paste and then the glitter," Johnny explained, trying not to look too nervous or sound geeky. "There's just something about that white paste that makes stuff stick to it. What is that anyway?"

Buster took the jar and checked the label. "It's face paint," Buster reported, biting his lip to keep from laughing again. "No wonder the glitter stuck to it so well - that's what face paint does!"

"Is there any more?" Johnny asked unexpectedly, making everyone turn to face him. Why was Johnny asking about makeup? Just then, Miss Crawly staggered into the theatre, holding a huge jar of white face paint.

"Miss Crawly, do you need help with that?" Meena asked, easily taking the jar out of Miss Crawly's hands and height, allowing the elderly secretary to massage the feeling back into her spindly fingers, adjust her eye and straighten her back.

"Oh, thank you, Meena. Very helpful indeed. Where did you say you wanted this, Mr Moon?" Miss Crawly asked. "I have to say, it's a lot of white face paint for one theatre."

"Just put it in that storage cupboard over there," Buster answered, casually pointing to a cupboard behind him. Miss Crawly nodded, and Meena took it there for her, opening the door with her impressive trunk and placing the jar onto the top shelf. Miss Crawly smiled thankfully at Meena, and then saw herself out.

"Well, that was a surprising and efficient coincidence," Rosita murmured, surprised.

"Zat was creepy!" Gunter whispered, shocked. "Zat vos black magic, I svear!"

"Nah, that was scheduled to come in today," Eddie disagreed. "It means absolutely nothing."

"Speaking of surprising, I think I've got an idea on how to stop Lance from bothering Ash," Johnny announced, making everyone stare at him in shock. Johnny was so big and so caring towards everyone who knew him, sometimes they needed to be reminded that he has a brain and is capable of having ideas.

"That-that's great, Johnny," Ash spluttered, smiling giddily. "But how do you do it?"

"You mean 'How do we do it?'" Johnny corrected, smiling a wide smile that made his white teeth glisten. (And for a certain porcupine, the room seemed to get a little bit hotter.) "This is going to take all of us to drive Lance away from here for good. Ash, this plan centers mostly around you, since he said that he wanted to see you alone. So, here's the plan..."

On Friday, at 2PM sharp, Lance sauntered over to the Moon Theatre with a bunch of cheap flowers and a tacky, food-stained apology card, generally acting as if he owned the place. The first thing he noticed was that there was no sound coming from the Moon Theatre, and no lights were on. Lance sighed as if he knew this would happen - he always knew that this theatre was going to be deserted soon - and opened the door with the sort of flourish you get from a famous (and slightly weird) diva.

THUMP! SPLASH!

"AAAAAAARGH!" Lance shouted, as he was hit with some strange white paste that smelled horrible. He tried to wipe it off his clothes and face, but it kept getting stuck to his fur. He decided against it in the end, arrogantly deciding that he could be dressed in a shabby, torn bin bag that smelled like rotten eggs and Ash would still welcome him back because of how good-looking he was. Still irritated, Lance felt around for a place to dump his ruined gifts - Ash wouldn't need flowers and cards to take him back, he justified - he found a light switch . . . and turned it on.

The light turned on, and under its bright, hard glare Lance realized that he'd walked into an empty theatre. It was like they had all suddenly decided to walk out of the theatre and leave. Lance looked at the ceiling fan, which had started slowly moving, with a small breeze beginning to build up in the rehearsal room he was standing in. This feels nice, Lance thought, spreading his arms and closing his eyes. It's almost like being outside. It's warm, there's a breeze in my face, there's a feather balancing on my nose - wait, what?

Lance opened his eyes to find that there really was a feather balancing on his nose, almost like a see-saw. He wiped it off with his arm, only to realize that it was covered in feathers, too! So was his other arm! And his chest and back! In fact, Lance was covered in so many feathers, he was surprised there wasn't a group of birds pounding at the door and yelling at him to give them back! (He didn't think to look up and see feathers cascading from the ceiling fan right above him. Idiot.)

He raced to the bathroom, only to realize that the door was locked and a handwritten sign was placed on it, saying, 'OUT OF ORDER!' The same went for the ladies' toilets. "Dammit!" Lance cursed, needing a way of cleaning himself up so he could persuade Ash to take him back without being ruthlessly laughed at by her friends. There was no way he'd ever use the ladies' toilets (not since they were out of order too, and he still had his pride), but he had no idea how to clean the feathers off him otherwise. There were no other sinks he could think of to use, and he couldn't possibly go out in public looking like this. He'd be a laughing stock, and he was ready to bet every sharp quill on his body that he'd never live it down if somebody who knew him saw him like this.

And that's when he saw a sign. A sign that he truly believed would get him out of any embarrassing situation that the evil white paste and pillow casing feathers could possibly get him into. Lance was honestly about to praise his lucky stars and dance, he was so happy. But, he reasoned, he might as well read the sign first. The sign read:

As the regular toilets are off limits, here are the directions to some temporary portable toilets so no embarrassing messes need to be cleaned up later. There are also some portable sinks near the portable toilets. You can reach the portable toilets by using the fire exit to the left of this sign.
Very sorry about the inconvenience.

This was what Lance was looking for. A place to clean himself up and repair his fractured dignity. Hope was coursing through his veins as he raced through those doors, thinking about how Ash is going to be all over him once he cleans up and uses his Lance-style charm on her-

And then he walked into an absolute nightmare.

There were no toilets. There were no sinks. The sign had lied to him. And now he was standing in front of what felt like a huge crowd of people, and all of them could see how ridiculous he looked. But strangely, almost miraculously, none of them seemed to notice. Lance seemed to calm down at this. Maybe this was more common than he thought. Maybe the people here see this sort of thing all the time and just thought it was a college-style prank. Maybe-

"Look, Mommy, that porcupine's covered in feathers and this weird goopy stuff!" a little elephant girl loudly exclaimed, pointing right at Lance with her trunk so her mother (and anyone else in a twenty-foot radius) knew where to look. The effect was immediate. Everyone walking by stopped right in their tracks, turned to look at Lance . . . and burst out laughing.

"What happened to this loser? He looks like a chicken gone wrong!" a teenage giraffe mocked, practically leaning on his girlfriend to stop him falling to the floor laughing.

"Don't say that to him, Cody," his girlfriend, another giraffe, sniggered. "That's an insult to chickens!"

"Hey there, young porcupine, what did you do to deserve this?" an old turtle with a cane and thin, wire-framed glasses shouted with all his might, with wasn't that loud, but loud enough to be heard by some of the crowd, which burst out laughing all over again. Lance could feel the blood rushing to his face as people that had never seen him before took one look at him, laughed, and either carried on walking, or joined the ever-growing army of hecklers.

"Hey, why don't you do the chicken dance? You're dressed the part," a tall female gorilla asked, as her friends first giggled and then outright laughed. The rest of the crowd followed suit, and it wasn't long before a chant was adopted by the mob.

"Chicken dance! Chicken dance! CHICKEN DANCE! CHICKEN DANCE!" the crowd roared, deafening Lance. He tried to run, but the crowd blocked him. He was surrounded.

"ENOUGH!" Lance screamed, silencing the crowd on his own. "I an not doing the chicken dance for you! You're all jerks, you hear me? Jerks!"

The crowd shut up, some of them beginning to feel rather guilty. The laughter in the air left, replaced by a stifling seriousness that made people want to curl up and die. Someone had to lighten the mood, anything to get rid of the gloomy, serious mood everyone was in now. But relief was there. Suddenly, out of the blue, Rosita's piglets managed to push and shove their way out to the front of the crowd, wearing balaclavas and all of them pointing Nerf guns at Lance, because clearly he hadn't been punished enough for his crimes against society.

"ATTACK!" one of the piglets roared, and then they all started shooting Nerf bullets at Lance. The humiliated porcupine raised his arms in front of him in an attempt to block some of the bullets, but they just aimed below his arms instead, and the fact that the crowd was roaring again inhibited him psychologically. Some of the bullets hit him in the groin, making him question if the foam bullets were really foam at all.

"Stop, all of you! You need to listen to adults! OWW! Stop that, you little brats!" Lance protested, but the energetic piglets would listen to nobody. Nobody but-

"Children!" Rosita thundered, making all of the energetic piglets stand still. Lance was pleased to know that the smiles were wiped off most of their faces. "What were you thinking? That poor man was telling you to stop, and what did you do? You ignored him. Now, what do you say to him?"

"Sorry," most of the piglets mumbled. A few of them couldn't bring themselves to look up at him, something that almost made Lance smile arrogantly. (Almost is the operative word here, folks. Remember how he looks like a bird gone wrong.)

"Now take off those balaclavas, hand over the Nerf guns and come with me," Rosita ordered, sticking out her bag for the guns to go in, which was soon filled to the brim. "I am so sorry about my children, sir. They should know better than this." Pausing for a moment to look Lance up and down, she added, "By the way, why are you covered in white paste and feathers?" That got the crowd sniggering, and a few whispers could be heard. (What they were saying to each other, we do not know, and we may never know. But you can bet your life that if we knew what they'd said, it would turn out to be either mean or funny as hell.)

"I-I don't know," Lance muttered, suddenly remembering his precarious situation. Scattered laughter was heard by the crowd. He didn't recognise Rosita, but if he looked up, he might have. Then again, maybe not. Lance only bothered to remember a face if the owner of that face could do him a favour. Once the favours stopped coming in, they instantly became persona non grata in his eyes.

"I've gotta say, it looks like it's not going to come off for a while!" Rosita exclaimed, seeming to be almost oblivious to the sniggers that could be heard around her. Another thing Rosita didn't seem to notice was the embarrassment Lance was going through. (Lance doesn't deserve sympathy, though, readers. Anyone who watched Sing! 2016 would know that. Just stare at your screen and laugh at him. He deserves it.)

"I know that," Lance snaps. "I'm looking for a place where I can get this gunk off my arms, thank you very much!"

"Leave my mother alone!" one of the piglets snaps at Lance. The young piglet girl looked angry. "She was trying to help you!"

"She's right!" shouted the giraffe we now know as Cody, clearly livid about what he'd just seen and heard. "Stop being a jerk to the one person that's trying to help you!"

The shouts grew louder, and Lance heard words that he should've heard a long time ago. None of them were particularly nice.

"Stop being a jerk!"

"That kid had the right idea when she told you to shut up!"

"Don't be so rude to her mother! She's a good Samaritan and you should be grateful for her help!"

"It's not like she's the one who made you look like a chicken gone wrong!"

"Fine! If that's what you want, then I'm leaving! Are you happy now?" Lance screamed, storming off. The crowd applauded, with whistles and cheers punctuating the sweet, sweet sound of vigilante mob justice. Lance made an angry beeline for the Moon Theatre, the building that he believed had caused all his problems. (To be honest, readers, he's not wrong.) He heard a hopelessly optimistic, enthusiastic voice that he knew belonged to none other than Buster Moon, and dived behind a dumpster. He made the mistake of taking a deep breath in, and immediately regretted it, having to back away and take a few deep breaths just to keep himself from vomiting. That dumpster smelled like 3 years' worth of rotting food and sewage had been stashed in there. (Hell knows how bad that would smell. I would say heaven knows, but smells like that don't belong there.)

"Right then, people, we don't have any rehearsals today, but since we've just been broken into and had the insides vandalized with some weird paste and feathers, let's go and clean this place up," Buster announced, smiling as if he hadn't just suggested cleaning an entire theatre. Several groans could be heard, mostly from Mike and Eddie. Lance hid behind the sizeable dumpster and made himself seem as small as possible while doing his best to see who was there. Then he remembered how he looked, and decided to go by voices alone, just in case he was spotted.

"Don't we have cleaners here?" Mike moaned, making Nancy roll her eyes like she was the tired parent of some whiny, tantrum-throwing toddler and couldn't take much more. "It's not my job to do it, and if it was, I'd get paid."

"You know what? You're right," Johnny smiled, though that smile quickly faded. "It's not your job to clean this place up. Last time I heard, it's everybody's job, so stop whining." Shocked and slightly scared, Mike shut up.

"Oh, Johnny, you're so nice," Ash giggled, nudging Johnny in the ribs with her elbow as he laid a strong hand on her shoulder. For Lance, this was the last straw. He stormed out of his trashy hiding place (pun intended) and immediately confronted the girlfriend-stealing gorilla.

"Hey, Bigfoot! Stay away from Ash; she's mine!" Lance shouted, almost stumbling over the wheel of the dumpster, but somehow keeping himself upright by leaning on the corner of its lid. "Why don't you date someone that looks a little more . . . like yourself? She should be going out with a porcupine like me, not some loser gorilla trying to look tough because his dad's in jail."

"How dare you! You have no right to tell me who to date or to talk about my dad! Who do you think you are?" Johnny argued stooping downwards to look the rude stranger in the eye. Suddenly, he recognized the pumped-up porcupine before him. "Lance! Lance, is that you?" Johnny gasped. Lance felt everyone train their eyes on him, and almost felt like crying with shame. This was just like the street he'd been laughed off earlier. Scratch that, this was like a recurring nightmare where you get laughed at in public by people you don't even know.

"Oh, man, it's him!" Meena whispered, then giggled. "So, why do you look like a chicken?" Once Meena, the meekest, nicest member of the theatre group, got a shot at teasing Lance, everyone suddenly decided it was open season.

"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, no?" Gunter shouted, taking about 20 photos on his phone before Lance could say no or even try to cover his face. "I must send zis to my family! Zey vould find zis so funny!"

"If I knew this was going to happen, I wouldn't have been so angry when Lance called me Bigfoot!" Johnny laughed, steadying himself by leaning on the wall with his hand. "Oh, this is just too hilarious to forget about!"

"What happened to you, Lance? You look like you lost a fight with a pillow and some shaving cream!" Ash chortled. Buster and Eddie tried to speak, but couldn't because they were laughing too hard. When Lance looked a bit closer, he realized Eddie was practically leaning on Buster to keep himself from falling to the floor laughing. This was pretty impressive, considering the difference in size between Eddie and Buster.

The fact that Ash was teasing him almost made the wannabe music star snap, but then he remembered that he was trying to get her back. Lance tried to use that to his advantage. "Ash, please, this is just because of some jerk pranking me! It's not my fault and this isn't me! Please make them stop!"

"Aw, poor little Lance doesn't like being called names!" Mike taunted, using the sort of voice normally used on babies. Everyone laughed at this mockery, especially since Mike had to look upwards at Lance to say it in the first place. (Apparently, when a short guy's making fun of you, it's ten times funnier than when anyone else is doing it.)

Ash breathed deeply for a few seconds to stop her laughter, then looked at her ex-boyfriend with a straight face (which is quite a feat, considering that he looked like the forbidden love child of a chicken and a cactus). "What do you want, Lance? You said you wanted to talk to me, and I'm here. Now spit. It. Out."

For the first time, Lance felt shy around Ash, and not just because he looked like a flightless domesticated bird. He felt like a scrawny, nervous pre-teen asking his crush out in front of all her friends. "Well, uh, Ash, I'd rather we talked alone, like it said in the text I sent you," he stammered, gaining a small burst of self-confidence when he remembered the text he'd sent her.

"No way, Lance! You are not talking to me alone. If you can say it to me, then you can say it in front of my friends," Ash demanded, taking control of the situation and knocking the wind out of Lance's sails. Reeling slightly from the openness Ash was displaying, Lance took a deep breath and started what could only be described as the worst redemption speech ever.

"Ash, I only cheated on you with Becky because you weren't giving me enough attention and affection. I wish I could take it all back right here and now. I love you, not her. Becky never meant anything like you do, and I would be honoured if you took me back. At the end of the day, I miss you so much, and the connection we had was like nothing I'd ever felt before. No words can describe how sorry I am, or how much regret I have for losing you."

Ash listened to him, and then started breaking down everything Lance had said to her. "Lance, I can hardly believe that you've got the nerve to blame you cheating on me with the fact that you couldn't control yourself. I've seen you flirting with girls at gigs we'd go to, and you'd just brush it off as you 'humouring them'. I should have known that you'd do something like this and ditched your whiny butt right there and then. And how dare you try and say you did it because I wasn't giving you enough attention and affection? I was in love with you, Lance, and you cheated on me! If you loved me then as much as you say you love me now, you wouldn't have even looked at Becky, let alone hooked up with her! I doubt we ever had a 'connection', and you're only sorry you got caught!" Ash had gone red with anger, and she'd shoved her hands into her pockets so nobody saw that she'd turned them into fists. Everyone was staring at her in shock. They had no idea that she'd blow up like that, but at the same time, they couldn't feel sorry for Lance. He'd had it coming for a while.

Lance was getting desperate now. "Please, Ash, baby! You don't mean that! You're the most beautiful porcupine I've ever met!" Mike snickered at his pathetic pleading, but a thump from Nancy meant that he quickly changed it to a hacking cough.

Ash rolled her eyes, and addressed Lance, making it clear that she didn't want to talk to him. "Lance, I mean every word I say. And besides, it's not like you'll be heartbroken for long. There's an even more beautiful porcupine girl behind you right now."

Almost reeling, Lance checked over both shoulders before realizing that there was nobody behind him. "Very funny, Ash. There's nobody there," Lance deadpanned.

"I know. In fact, that's why I said it," Ash replied, smugly. "If you really believed I was the most beautiful porcupine you'd ever met, you wouldn't have looked back at the girl who was more beautiful than me." And with that, the entire theatre crew burst into howls of uncontrollable laughter that could be heard all the way from the street Lance had been laughed off earlier.

Lance bristled with anger, and suddenly, he lost it. "Why don't you shut up? You have no idea how ungrateful you are, do you? Here I am, being a gentleman and going the extra mile just for you, and you throw it in my face!"

"Stop right there," Buster interrupted. The usually happy-go-lucky koala was livid. "How dare you come here, giving her a hard time just because she had the nerve to dump you and not look back? Having her as a girlfriend doesn't mean you're better than every other male on earth. In fact, it's the opposite. It gives every other male on earth hope that they'll strike it as lucky as you. And just so you know, to treat Ash as badly as you did makes you the ungrateful one. Now get out of here!"

Lance tried to argue, but felt like he couldn't speak. Buster's rant had sapped the fight from him. He settled for giving Buster the best stink eye he could manage, and trudged out of the alley. To add insult to injury, Gunter blew him a kiss and yelled "Auf wiedersehen!" This prompted an entire repertoire of goodbyes for Lance.

"See ya; wouldn't wanna be ya!"

"What's it like in Loserville, Lance? Let me know when you get back!"

"Cockadoodle-doo!"

"My family aren't gonna believe this when I tell them!"

This continued until Lance had left their sights completely. Once he had (and once everyone had stopped laughing and/or cheering), Mike looked to Johnny and said, "Just how did you come up with this prank, Johnny? I've gotta admit, you explained it to me twice and I still don't really get it."

"Wait, wait, wait," Buster interrupted. "Before we discuss pranks, can we go inside and clean up the Moon Theatre? I don't know about you, but when a building is named after me, and I'm in charge of looking after it, I like to keep that place looking the best it can."

"Aww!" everyone whined. Buster settled with crossing his arms and giving everyone that look of "Don't argue with me" that they remember so well from their parents, older relatives and teachers. Sighing, they went to find some mops and a decent vacuum cleaner.

Half an hour later . . .

"So, how did you come up with this prank, Johnny?" Eddie asked, sipping on a Starbucks frappucino while propping his feet up on a strange, unused plastic box he'd found in a storage cupboard. (The strange part about it is that Buster hadn't pounced on it and had it repurposed . . . yet.) "It's genius."

"A series of coincidences, really," Johnny shrugged, trying to stay calm. "When Ash got that creepy message from Lance, I wanted to do something, but didn't know what to do or how to do it. Then Mike landed in the face paint and the glitter, and I had an idea. The paint-over-the-door prank has been done plenty of times, much like leaving feathers on the ceiling fan and turning it on. And since just about anything sticks to that paint, that prank left Lance looking like a chicken gone wrong. I'd just swapped the glitter for feathers."

"Oh, zat is priceless," Gunter giggled. "Vot next?"

"We knew Lance would want to go to the bathroom and clean up, so as part of Johnny's plan, I wrote a note on the door saying that both the male and female bathrooms were out of order and there were some temporary portable toilets outside," Buster confided, smirking to himself at the memory. "I wish I could've seen Lance's face when he realized that the note was wrong and just about anyone could see him."

"And just about anyone did," Eddie giggled, abruptly stopping once he realized all eyes were on him. "Sorry."

"I wish I could've seen it, too," Ash agreed, smiling wistfully. She snapped out of it when she realized Johnny might be staring at her, and she had to look her best for him. "Anyway, what did your plan call for next, Johnny? I can't thank you enough for it, by the way."

Johnny almost blushed, but remembered to bite his tongue before the blood went to his face and exposed his crush on her. "The next part was really tricky to pull off. Getting your hands on 25 balaclavas is hard enough, but 25 child-sized ones? At least the Nerf guns were easy to get a hold of."

"You're right about that one, Johnny," Rosita agreed, stepping out of the shadows with all of her piglets in tow. "This many piglets means there are lots of toys, so the Nerf guns were a cinch."

While she was talking, Zoe the piglet (if you're having trouble remembering Zoe, she's the one who told Lance to leave her mother alone) went over to Johnny and started to poke him in the arm to get his attention. "Johnny, can you play with us? We're bored." Still trying to get his attention, she switched from poking his arm to prodding his ribs and tummy.

"Hey, hahahaha, stop, that tickles!" Johnny giggled, squirming slightly and batting her hands away. "Get ohohohoff!"

That was the cue for Zoe to seriously start tickling Johnny . . . along with about ten of her siblings, who still adored her for telling Lance to leave their mother alone and would help her as much as possible (for about two days). "Stohohop thahahahat! Nohohoho mohohohore!" Johnny pleaded.

"But it's fun!" one of them argued. "We like playing with you!"

"If yohohou keeheeheep dohohoing thahahat," Johnny bargained, "then I cahahan't plahahay with yohohohou!"

That did it. About ten pairs of hopeful childlike eyes stared up at him in shock. "No, Johnny, no!" Zoe pleaded. "We wanna play with you! You're really nice!"

"Okay, then," Johnny asked, looking at the piglets kindly while getting his breath back. "what would you like to play?"

"TICKLE FIGHT!" Zoe screamed, going straight for the belly button and leaving Johnny in stitches. His laughter told her siblings that open season had begun, and they all started grabbing at hopelessly ticklish flesh. Rosita heard the commotion, and quickly separated the gorilla from her wayward children.

"Kids, if you don't let Johnny breathe, then he won't be able to play with you because he'll be too tired!" Rosita scolded, pulling several energetic piglets off Johnny and stood them next to the wall. Softening her tone, she added, "I know you were only playing, but Johnny was telling you to stop, but you didn't. Now, what do you say?"

"Sorry," Zoe says enthusiastically. The other piglets follow suit, mumbling apologies of their own with sheepish looks on their faces. Johnny smiled, politely accepted the apology offered to him, and slipped out to 'use the bathroom' . . . only to bump into Ash.

"Didn't know Rosita's piglets liked you so much," Ash said approvingly, smiling warmly at Johnny. Johnny was too busy daydreaming about how Ash had the smile of an angel to really listen to what Ash had said to him.

"Yeah, they like to play with me a lot. Maybe it's because I don't just tell them to play somewhere else," Johnny smiled, tugging at the collar of his leather jacket to cool him down. Don't mess it up for yourself, Johnny, you're talking to the girl you're in love with! The last thing you need is to say something rude or dumb!

"Didn't know you were so ticklish, either," Ash remarked, offhandedly. Johnny felt himself tense up and blush like there was no tomorrow.

She saw that happening to you? Oh, no, she'll never see you as manly now! a panicky voice said, making Johnny bite his tongue. "Oh, that," Johnny stuttered, trying to play it off as a game they'd been playing. "They were just playing, and I was laughing because it was fun. No harm done."

"OK," Ash said, believing Johnny completely. She was about to leave, but her stomach flipped, twirled and twisted, almost forcing her to stay where she was. Go on, Ash, an optimistic voice encouraged. He's not going anywhere, and now's your chance. Ask him out on a date.

Johnny was having a similar debate with himself. She's staying, and she looks kind of anxious. Sit her down, tell her a few jokes to get her pretty smile back, and once she's calm, ask her out.

"So, I was wondering..." they both said in unison, then looked away from each other, blushing.

"You first, Ash," Johnny volunteered, already mentally beating himself up for it. Grow a spine, why don't you? hissed a voice at the back of his mind. Do you want to look weak?

"No, you," Ash whispered, turning beet red saying those two words. So you do want to look pathetic, a gloating voice whispered. (Think about Regina George from Mean Girls, people.) Johnny likes confident girls, not whispering, stuttering wimps who can't look him in the eye. Shape up or ship out.

"Ash, are you all right? You know, if it bothers you that much, then I can go first," Johnny volunteered, feeling better and worse at the same time. Knowing that he'd made Ash a little bit calmer made Johnny a little proud of himself, but that still meant he had to tell Ash exactly how he felt about her. That was nerve-wracking.

"Thank you," Ash squeaked, fiddling with her sleeve. Why can't you remember anything, Ash? Get this into your head: you. Must. Not. Be. Weak.

Johnny gulped with anticipation. He almost felt like backing out, but then he remembered something his dad had said to him when he was younger that never left him: always speak your mind, no matter how much trouble it gets you in. So he took a deep breath, and spoke his mind.

"Ash, I like you. I have had a massive crush on you for ages, but didn't have the guts to tell you until now. Every time I see you, I feel like the air got thinner and I've started floating. Ash, I'm going to say this before I lose my nerve, and I hope you don't hold this against me. Ash, will you go on a date with me?" Satisfied with his outburst, he took a few deep breaths in and out to stop him from hyperventilating. You've blown it now, a voice hissed. She'll think you're a weirdo and cross the street to avoid you.

But Johnny hadn't blown it. Quite the opposite, in fact. Ash was staring at him open-mouthed - not in shock, but in pure joy. She felt like a puppy after it had been let loose in a room full of squeaky toys. Now she knew that her feelings towards Johnny weren't unrequited, she had something to say to him that would make him jump for joy.

"Johnny, the fact that you're in love with me is definitely news to me." Ash paused, taking some time to control herself. "But I need to say something to you. Johnny, I have a massive crush on you, and every day I stay with you, it makes me wonder why I ever chose Lance. You're nice to me, you don't take me for granted, and you've never talked down to me as if I was dumber than you or you were better than me. To be perfectly honest, why wouldn't I accept a date?"

Johnny hugged her right there and then, but retracted his muscled arms in surprise and pain. "Ow! Should've remembered those quills of yours," Johnny muttered, rubbing his arm.

Ash clapped a hand to her mouth in shock. "Are you OK, Johnny? You're not bleeding or anything, are you?"

Johnny laughed, and rubbed his arm a little more. "No, Ash, it just stings a bit. Besides, it's a good kind of pain, because now I know I'm not dreaming."

Ash giggled, a smile lighting up face like the fairy lights on a Christmas tree. "Hey, Johnny, if you weren't such an awesome singer, I think you'd make a great comedian."

"Why don't you think about that once you get home, Ash?" Johnny questioned, a shy smile playing across his face. "Besides, I hear Heaven's missing an angel and they want you back."

"Oh, Johnny, you're so sweet!" Ash cried in mock embarrassment, laughing at the tomato-red blush on his face that she secretly thought was the most adorable thing ever. This is your chance! the hopeless romantic inside us all screamed. Don't throw it away, Ash!

That's when she decided that it was a now-or-never situation, (miraculously) jumped high enough for them to see eye-to-eye, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips.

It was a forceful kiss, but passionate and gentle too, and Johnny found himself closing his eyes and kissing back, being careful not to let out some animal urges of his. It felt like New Year's fireworks were exploding in their heads and they wished this moment would never end. So naturally, it came as a great disappointment to both of them when they realized that they had lungs and needed to breathe. Reluctantly, they broke away and caught their breath. Johnny lifted Ash up by holding her underneath her arms like a baby, and placed her on the floor. As Johnny carefully lowered Ash to the ground, both of them became aware of some strange background noises. When they looked closer, they realized that everyone they knew from the Moon Theatre (minus the piglets, for the sake of their innocence) had seen them making out. Most of the guys were clapping, Meena, Rosita and Nancy were all going "aww" and Mike was wolf-whistling. (Or at least he was, until Nancy landed a killer punch to his gut that knocked the wind out him.)

"How much did you see?" the frightened lovebirds squeaked as their eyes went wide with shock.

"Well, let's see here," Eddie thought aloud. Then, imitating Johnny's voice, he said, "Ash, I like you. I have had a massive crush on you for ages, but didn't have the guts to tell you until now..."

"That's enough!" Ash yelled, over the laughter of her friends. "Eddie, save the mimicry for the comedy club down the road, you hear me?" Just then, the notification ringtone for Johnny's phone and her phone went off at the same time, happily reminding them that there was something they should see.

"Wow, even your phones are in sync," Buster commented dryly. "I see Lance is stalking both of you now."

"What sort of luck do we have, eh?" Ash joked. "We're being stalked by the same idiot."

"It's not Lance," Johnny said. "Well, actually it is Lance. Don't worry, though, this will be really funny."

"That's it, Johnny. I've had enough of you dodging the issue, now explain," Rosita demanded, in her best angry-mother voice that has been perfected by having 25 piglets with you. Johnny simply opened up a news article, handed over his phone and said three words:

"Look at this."

Poor Porcupine!

The video currently trending at #1 on YouTube is all over the internet right now. It features a porcupine covered in feathers taken from pillow casing and a glue-like substance on a street corner (for some reason) who, inexplicably, decides to argue with passers-by who (like us) are finding this all too funny. The hilarious part (for people who didn't think it got any better than this) is when a swarm of piglets attack him with toy weapons while wearing homemade balaclavas. As the piglets are all minors, their faces have been blurred.
Their mother steps in and stops them from going any further with the 'attack', but is rather frank while talking about the guy's new look. But she isn't spared his anger, and he snaps at her too, completely out of nowhere. One of her kids tells him to leave her mother alone, and this sparks protests of anger. Eventually, the plucky piglet's outburst means this porcupine/chicken will have to cluck out of the park.

Underneath it was a video of the incident filmed by a random guy at the park who happened at the right place at the right time. After watching it around eight times, and then syncing Johnny's phone to a TV so they could reassure themselves that what they were seeing was real and they weren't all dreaming.

"This is comedy gold!" Ash giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. "This definitely makes up for not being there!" Johnny sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Are you alright, Johnny?" Ash asked quietly.

"It's my dad," Johnny admitted, biting the inside of his lip to stop the tears. "When I was little, he'd find something funny to read or watch to get me out of a bad mood. Either that or wrestle me out of nowhere. I wish I could show him this, but there's no internet in the prison he's in."

Ash felt terrible. Some of Johnny's best memories were ones he shared with his dad, and he couldn't do that if his dad was locked up. At that moment, Ash had a idea that was sure to make Johnny smile again.

"Hey, Gunter, can you send some of the photos you took of Lance to my phone? Here's my number," Ash requested, scribbling her phone number on a scrap of paper. Gunter nodded, and within the minute, she had about five photos on her phone from him. Gunter's more tech-savvy than I thought. She then turned to Buster.

"Is there a printer I can use?" Ash asked, which confused him. He had no idea why Ash would need a printer, but saw no harm in her using it.

"Y-yes, use the one in my office if you want," he stuttered, still confused. "But be quick."

Ash rushed to Buster's office, logged onto his computer (which had no password, as Buster wasn't as good with technology as Gunter was) and soon had the news article printed out, along with 10 of the photos Gunter had sent her fitted onto 1 A4 page (with gaps, so cutting them out was easier). Logging off the computer with one hand, she searched for a pair of scissors with the other. she couldn't find any. Luckily, another awesome idea came to her aid.

I'll just use my spines to cut the paper! a smart, slightly nerdy voice exclaimed inside her head. Pulling one of her quills out of her back, she winced in slight pain (like pulling a hair out your head), before getting back to business. With only a few flicks of her razor-sharp quill, she had the pictures of Lance neatly cut out and a small heap of scrap paper to place in recycling. Stuffing the pictures into a discarded plastic folder and sliding the news story behind it, she went to look for Johnny.

She found him in a secluded practice studio on his own, watching the viral video over and over again and trying his hardest to laugh. Her heart broke for him. Ash would bet her apartment that Johnny would love to share this news with his dad. Tentatively, she knocks on the door.

"Can I come in?" Ash asked. Johnny looked up sharply, but let his guard down when he realizes who it is. Johnny, in his panic, tried to force a smile just for her, but she saw through it easily and focused on his phone. "What's that photo on your phone?"

Johnny hands it to her wordlessly. It's a picture of him and his dad together, smiling as they had their arms around each other. Ash can only see from the chest upwards, but they seem to both be wearing shirts and leather jackets over them. "It's only been around a month since that photo was taken, but it seems so much longer. My dad would love to see that news article."

Ash saw that as her chance. "Johnny, I know I can't get your dad back for you, but I also know that they don't allow the internet there. So I decided to make sure your dad sees this by printing the news story for him, and including a couple of pictures for him." She slipped the folder into his lap. Johnny looked at it once, then did a double-take and grabs it.

"Y-you did this for me?" Johnny whispered, before he enveloped her in a hug. "Thank you, Ash! Thank you!" When Ash recovered from the feeling that her bones are breaking, she realizes Johnny is grinning happily, so she smiles and returns the hug. They eventually break away from each other; Johnny with an innocent, grateful smile on his face, Ash with a manic grin on hers.

"You know, Johnny," Ash finally said, "now I've made you smile, it's only fair that I make you laugh, too."

"How are you going to do that?" Johnny asked, scooting away from her slightly. "Please say it isn't painful."

"I'm going to do it the same way as Rosita's piglets did to you!" Ash grunted, as she pounces on Johnny and knocks him to the floor. "Tickle tickle, Johnny!"

"Hehehehehehey!" Johnny snickered, trying to protect his sides from Ash's evil fingers. "I'm tihihicklish there-hahahahahahahaha!"

"I know! Now, will you promise to loosen up around us?" Ash teased, tracing his ribcage until she found the hyper-sensitive area where his ribs and sides met. By sticking her fingers underneath and wiggling them, she had Johnny in stitches. (Her brothers had taught her this, and it never failed to bring someone to tears of laughter.)

"NOHOHOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHERE!" Johnny howled, squirming away from Ash's evil fingers that seem to be glued to his sides. "AHAHAHAHAHASH, PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!"

"Not until you promise that you won't be so uptight around us, Johnny!" Ash bargained, switching from his ribs to his belly button quickly. This is the straw that broke the gorilla's back.

"FINE! FIHIHIHIHIHINE! I PROMIHIHIHISE!" Johnny laughed. Ash took that as a sign to get off him and help him to his feet.

"So, you happy now?" Ash cooed, giggling like a schoolgirl at the embarrassed look on Johnny's face. "Don't worry, I won't tell a soul. I'm keeping the cuteness all to myself."

"Yeah, I'm better now," Johnny admits. "Since you've helped me out enough today to last a lifetime, let me be the one to post this to my dad. Oh, and Ash? You know when I was asked where I got my ideas from? I read lots of Captain Underpants when I was a kid and that's the only reason why I know what a prank is in the first place."

Ash smiled and patted his shoulder. "I did that too. George and Harold's pranks on the teachers never seemed to stop being funny."

4 days later, at the local jail...

Big Daddy paced his cell, anxiously waiting for a package of legal documentation he was supposed to be getting today from his lawyer. The suspense was killing him slowly, and nothing was helping him calm down. Hell, even his cellmate's breathing was irritating him.

The sound of a guard's boots thumping on linoleum floors was what snapped him out of his state. "Letter for you, Big Daddy," one of the guards said, as he slotted it in between the bars of the cell door. Big Daddy sprinted to get it, eagerly ripping the brown paper off like a child to get to the letter inside. When he saw that it was a letter from his boy, he felt a weight come off his shoulders. He was just about to read it when he felt one of his cell mates literally breathing down his neck. Turning around, he saw three other gorillas standing only six inches away from him.

"Give me some space so I can read this!" Terrified, they backed away and left Big Daddy with the letter and his own thoughts.

Big Daddy smiled wistfully at the letter, and thought about all the other ones his son had sent him in an effort to keep him from losing his mind. They were comforting, but at the same time really made him wish he'd never gotten himself locked up in the first place and never brought his son into the gang culture. For Big Daddy, this was more effective than any counselling session the system had to offer.

Smiling, his fumbling fingers slipped the piece of paper with his beloved son's handwriting on it out of its paper prison and read it. But to do that, he tipped the envelope upside down and out came a bunch of face-down photographs that were attached to a news article with a paper clip. He snatched it up, confused and wanting to know more. Johnny's letter is next to his feet, so he reads it, hoping for an explanation.

He gets it.

Dear Dad,
You won't believe what my friends and I have done! Don't worry, nobody knows it was us who did it, and it's not illegal but it's still hilarious. Let me explain everything to you now so you don't get confused later.
A girl who performs at the Moon Theatre was getting texts from her stalker ex-boyfriend that she'd split up with, and he tried to meet with her at the theatre alone. When we found out, we decided to get him away from her by deserting the theatre, placing face paint above the door so it stuck to him and balancing pillow feathers on all the ceiling fans so they got stuck to the face paint already on him. Then we put a fake note telling where to go to get himself cleaned up, but instead of him getting to some toilets, it put him on the street for everyone to see!
His face is now all over the internet and there's a news article about him, too! I also got you some photos of what he looked like after the prank.
Goodbye for now,
Johnny.

Big Daddy smirked after hearing about Johnny's prank, whilst also feeling a sense of fatherly pride that he'd learned to treat a girl right. That feeling turned to sorrow when he realized that he wasn't the one to give him that lesson, as he'd been so wrapped up in the gang, he'd forgotten about his son. Remembering what the letter said about a news article, Big Daddy picked it up and read it. First he smiled, then snickered, and once he'd got to the pictures, he was shaking with laughter. Tears of laughter rolled down his cheeks like tiny rivers.

"What's so funny, man?" one of his old gang members asked irritably.

Big Daddy, still howling with laughter, handed the photos and the news story to his lackey, who snorts and hands it to someone else in the cell. Soon, everyone has seen those pictures of Lance, and some of them had to sit down so they didn't collapse with laughter. Big Daddy (with some difficulty) passes it to the next cell over, and once everyone there's seen it, it's handed over to the next cell . . . and the next one . . . Hell, even the guards got to see it, after a suspicion of illegal drugs in the prison was raised. However, they found something far more addictive.

For the first time ever, the prison is filled with the sound of hysterical laughter.

Hey there, readers! Sorry I took so long to write this story, but I got caught up in schoolwork and revision and stuff like that. Anyway, I'm back and I hope I didn't disappoint you! I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it. Until next, time, viewers! Please read and review so I know what to do next time I'm here! FoxtrotTango543 is signing out!

Guess who's back, people! Nothing major, just a few tweaks where they're needed. Bye!