Disclaimer: I don't own JONAS. *sigh*

Heh, sorry for the long wait. I had to wait a bit to get votes, and then I've been busy all week. (And btw, I've decided the first ten I'm gonna do, so you can stop voting.) Heh, this chapter turned out so much better in my head. It's ridiculously strange, but I hope you like it. :)

Joe Lucas sat idly in his chair, waiting for his mom to finish cooking breakfast. It had been a dull morning so far. He'd woken up to Frankie practically shoving him off the bed, saying their breakfast would get cold. And then, when he came down, his mom wasn't even up yet! Turned out that the brat just wanted him to get something off a high shelf for him. Joe rolled his eyes. It wasn't his fault his little brother was shorter than most girls his age.

So now, nearly an hour after his rude awakening, the Lucas family were all gathered around the table, with Nick rubbing his temples, Kevin asleep with his head propped up on his hand, Frankie off in front of the TV to catch his favorite show, his father 'reading' the newspaper, and Mom smiling happily at him as she set the food down in front of them.

Nick managed a sleepy smile at Mrs. Lucas. "It looks great, Mom," he said as he reached for a slice of bacon. He shoved Kevin's arm out from under him, and the eldest brother woke with a start.

"My bunnies aren't aliens!" he shrieked in surprise, sitting upright in his chair.

Everyone shared a laugh at Kevin's antics and began eating their breakfast.

Suddenly, the door opened and in strolled a bright and sunshine-y Stella in all of her early-morning glory. "Hello, hello!" she greeted with a cheery wave. "Good morning, everyone!"

Mr. Lucas put down his newspaper to look at Stella. "Oh, hello, Stella," he said with a raised eyebrow. "You're here… again… when there's no staff meeting."

Shrugging, Stella said, "Oh, I know. It's just that Mom's trying out some new recipe for Chilean soufflés or whatever." She made a face, and the rest of the family winced. As much as they loved the eccentric Emma Malone, she was a horrible cook.

Mrs. Lucas immediately set another place at the table for the blonde. "Here you are, Stella. Sit down and breakfast will be out in just a minute!"

Stella smiled gratefully at the bustling woman and thanked her before taking the seat next to Joe. Turning to the boy, she asked, "Did you need anything modified while I'm here?"

Joe shook his head. "Nah. But Kevin here might need his pants expanded a bit."

Kevin let out an indignant splutter. "I do not! My thighs are perfectly fine right now!"

"I never said it was your thighs that got bigger."

"Oh." Kevin shrugged. "Well, in that case, yeah. "

Stella groaned and made a face, promising the older teen that she would fix his pants later. But her face suddenly lightened when Mrs. Lucas placed a plate of warm pancakes and syrup in front of her. She turned to Mrs. Lucas to thank her but found the woman already heading upstairs. Yummy, she thought, digging in. Those were her favorite.

Joe, on the other hand, was poking idly at his waffles. Waffles were always his favorite, but not today. He was in the mood for fruit.

Or rather, a fruit army, Joe of Jonas, an ominous voice that sounded suspiciously like Macy told him. Raising his fuzzy caterpillar of an eyebrow, Joe found the voice to be coming from the small tree-plant-thingy they kept behind his seat against the wall. Yes, raise an army of fruit, Joe of Jonas. A girlish giggle came from the plant. 'Tis an order from I, the Almighty Fruit Tree. Do not fail me, Joe of Jonas.

Oh, yes. This would be fun.

Reaching into Nick's hair, he fished out a Sharpie. (Joe gave Nick a curious look. "Why do you always have something to write with hidden in your 'fro?") Joe pulled the fruit bowl closer to him and began drawing various faces on the fruit. In the end, all of the fruit had various expressions on them. Some had smiley faces, some had frowney faces. Some were crying, some were laughing. And some looked suspiciously like Kevin when he screamed like a girl.

Stella gave Joe a curious look. "What are you doing? I wanted some of those grapes, you know."

Joe didn't answer. Hazel eyes darted to Kevin's blueberry pancakes and back to his face. He merely gave Kevin a stare and a smirk before he began pelting his brother with the fruits. "Fruit Army, ATTAAACK!"

Kevin gave a girlish shriek and tried fighting off the onslaught of food. He let out a sigh of relief when it abruptly stopped, but Joe wasn't done yet. He picked up a banana, gave a slight murmur of apology for what it was about to go through, ("I'm sorry, Soldier. It is for the greater good of the army," Joe murmured solemnly,) and proceeded to stab Kevin with the stem of the banana. "Nom, nom, nom, nom," he chanted.

Letting out a cry of pain, Kevin grabbed the banana from Joe's hand and whacked him in the arm. "Joe, stop it!" he whined, bonking his brother on the head. "That hurts, ya know!"

"You are the cause of the death of our fellow soldiers belonging to the Blueberry Troop," Joe accused, pointing a finger at Kevin. "That's so—it's complete and utter cruelty!"

Kevin's gazed immediately dropped with shame. "I…I'm a killer. I'm a murderer of the Blueberry Brigade!" He fell off his chair and landed on his knees. "Nooooo!!!"

"Oh, please." Nick rolled his eyes. "Joe's just being stupid again, Kevin. Blueberries are made to be eaten, not to be put in battalions."

"No, it's the Blueberry Brigade, and the Banana Battalions," Joe interjected with a cheeky grin.

Raising an eyebrow, Nick asked, "Into alliteration now, huh?"

"It's my life!"

"And what about the oranges?"

"The Orange Troop!"

"That doesn't start with an O!"

Joe glared at his brother. "Yeah, well, it's got O's in it, so shut up, Poof Head!" he replied, sticking his tongue out at the youth. Joe turned back to Kevin and resumed pelting fruits at him. Just as he'd tossed an apple, Mrs. Lucas re-entered the room.

"Joseph Adam Lucas!" she screeched. "What on earth do you think you are doing with my fruit?!"

Oh, crap.

Joe immediately froze and slowly turned to his mother, eyes widening comically. "Um, leading a battle of my Fruit Army?" said the rockstar, hurriedly hiding the orange he was about to throw.

Mrs. Lucas was not appeased by his response. "And why, pray tell, are you attacking your brother with your Fruit Army?" She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, tapping her fingers in wait of a valid answer.

"Because Kevin is the murderer of the Blueberry Brigade!" Joe told her, his voice going slightly shrill. "He slaughtered all of them, cruelly chewing them apart with his jaws of death!"

"First of all," Mrs. Lucas began, "blueberries are not alive! They can't die in the first place!"

"Well, technically—"

"You be quiet, Mister," Mrs. Lucas snapped. "I don't care about being technical. You are in enough trouble as it is. And don't think I didn't see that apple you threw, or that orange in your hand!" Their mom sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "What the devil possessed you to do such a thing, Joe?"

"The Almighty Fruit Tree told me to do it," Joe replied proudly. It was only someone of importance who was deemed worthy enough to be commanded by the AFT, as he so proudly dubbed it.

Mrs. Lucas' expression switched from infuriated to concerned. "Joe, sweetheart, who is the Almighty Fruit Tree?"

Nick gave a snicker. "Yeah, Joe? Who's the tree?"

"It's the commander of the Fruit Army! I'm just a stand-in," he explained. "Aft is the real leader!"

Mr. Lucas, who had chosen to ignore all of the fruit-throwing crap, decided now was a good time to interject. "Son, how are you talking to this Almighty Fruit Tree?"

"Oh, it speaks to me with telephone-y."

"You mean telepathy?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Sweetheart," Mrs. Lucas crooned, placing a hand on Joe's forehead, "I think it's time to visit that house again. You're hearing voices."

"Oh, Mom, you're such a worrywart. I know where the plant is! I don't need to go back to the house again," Joe assured her and gently took his mother's hand off his brow. "Behold, the Almighty Fruit Tree!" He gestured to the small tree-plant-thingy behind him.

At that, Stella, Nick and Kevin promptly burst out laughing. But, of course, the glare from Mrs. Lucas promptly shut them up.

"Darling, I think we really should visit the House again," Mrs. Lucas pressed. "It'll be nice and relaxing, and your favorite white jacket will be there."

"But the Almighty Fruit Tree told me to do start the Fruit Army!"

"Well, the Almighty Fruit Tree doesn't exist," she said gently, not trying to evoke another one of Joe's hissy fits.

"But, Mom! Aft is right there!" Joe made another gesture at the plant.

Mr. and Mrs. Lucas grasped Joe's arms and began leading him to the car. "Let's go, sweetie," Mrs. Lucas murmured softly into his ear. "The happy place is at the House. The Almighty Fruit Tree won't be able to command you there."

But Joe refused to leave, so he kicked and screamed. "Mom, I am telling you, Aft is right there! I'm not going to the Assie-Lum again!"

"It's asylum, Joe," Mr. Lucas grunted as he promptly hoisted Joe over his shoulder (with great difficulty, mind you. Mr. Lucas was not as strong as he used to be, nor was his son as light). Mrs. Lucas hit her husband on the arm and glared at him, telling him to shut up.

"Fine, fine, I'll go!" Joe conceded after he 'accidentally' kicked his brothers in the face in his fuss. "Just put me down!" Once his father set him down, he looked up at his parents. "Can I have fruit before I go to the Assie-Lum?"

"NO, JOE!"

Lol, didn't I tell you it was stupid? It was so weird! I'm not good at keeping them in character. XD And I had a bloody hard time trying to end it. And I know that going to an asylum for Joe probably is a bit too drastic, but it suited the story. *shrugs* When you're at Joe's stage, you realize that a shrink can't help anymore.

Anyhoo, feedback would be greatly appreciated! ^^