A/N: Greetings once again all! I doubt anyone is still reading this, but I have just had a series of comedic ideas to put into this, and just found my long lost inspiration, like a castaway to civilization. Anyways, hope you all enjoy!Oh wait, by the way, there will be LOTS of language, stereotypes and perhaps (oh, who am I kidding, of course there are) suggestive themes in this chapter, so I'm officially giving this an M rating, just too lazy to change it. Ah well, I know that most teens are exposed to a lot worse nowadays anyways, so what difference is it going to matter now?
Chapter 4: Increments of Insanity
"Alright marine, repeat what I just said, so I can make absolutely sure you got what I just told you." Said marine looked directly into John's helmet, saying, "You want me to take this alarm clock and personally oversee its total incineration."
Pleased, John nodded. "Good, now take that damn thing out of here so I can sleep for the rest of the day. Damn thing won't let me sleep in." The marine just smiled as he left the room, the offending device in hand.
John turned to Cortana. "Well Chief, now that that's done, why don't you go and hop back into bed?" With a tired sigh, John slowly shed his armor, noticing with a pained grimace as he took it off that it was in DIRE need of odor eaters by this point. Quickly shirking the rest of the offending garments with some minor trouble, John stumbled back towards the bed. Laying down, he felt his head rest upon his pillow, its wonderful softness lulling him to sleep…
Mere moments later, his rooms communicator began to squawk at an unrealistically loud volume. Shooting out of his comfy bed with much regret, he stumbled over to the communicator, mashing the speaker button.
"WHAT?" John snarled. Vyachislav's thick Russian accent crackled through the speaker. "John? Get your lumbering thunder-thighs out of bed! We have company awaiting us in my room! Now!"
For the first time in a long time, John actually felt like crying. Why? Why did these things always happen to him? Stopping for a moment, he slowly looked back over at his bed…
"John, I know you are about to get back in the bed! I can pretty much see it! If you don't get your behind over here, I will send Klaus, who was here on time I might add, over there with a blunt object and less than friendly designs on your man salad, so GO!"
Shaking his head, John took his time replacing his armor, and then making his way over to Vyachislav's room. Suddenly, he noticed a crewman with a fake bird head on and fake wings passing him in the opposite direction. The strange man just slowly turned towards him as they neared.
"Tweet tweet, mother fucker…" And with that, the weirdo continued on his path, not even glancing back. John was simply astounded, but managed to push the encounter away fast enough to not pass Vyachislav's room.
As he entered, he noticed Klaus and Vyachislav huddled around a new fish tank. "Ah, there you are chief! These are the new friends I wanted you to meet." Glancing around, John looked at Vyachislav. "Wait, you mean the fish?" "Of course he means the fish," came Klaus' reply. "He just got them a few days ago. Come, let us introduce you to them."
Bending over heavily, John stared into the fish tank, immediately noticing several strange fish. "See those four small kind of green-blue shiny fish clustered there? They are Bill. Not just one, but all of them. If you want one of them, they are all going to respond to you. That tan-ish one there, with the black and red stripes at the top, is Charles. He is very nice, although Steve keeps on fucking with him."
Klaus began to talk now. "The one in the corner there, the purplish one with all red stripes is Steve. He is a closet homosexual from Nepal, and has had much trouble coming to terms with who he is, but recently he has discovered that he loves the fish dick. I mean seriously, don't those puckered lips look like they were made for dick sucking? Anyways, see that weird light-brown worm with strings tentacle things on its back? That is Francois. He's always laid back; I mean seriously, he just does not give a fuck. Ever. He is best friends with George."
"Those jack-knife looking fish there, are Alberto, Enrique, and Roberto. That slightly darker and bigger one there is Alberto. He's a transgender. Don't make fun of him for it, becau-. Oh now look, they're swimming backwards. Showoffs. Anyways, yeah, Enrique, the middle sized one, and Roberto, the smallest, all make fun of him. Try to refrain from doing that yourself."
"That tubular fish down by that boulder of corral, you know, the one with the bulging eyes? Yeah, that's George, Charlie's retarded brother. He never moves, so much to the point that when we first got him we thought he was dead, but no, he just sits on that rock with that blank stare on his face. Man, I just know that at some point, George is just going to flip shit and murder every other fish besides Francois and Charlie, and while he did it, that bored stare wouldn't leave his face. Check out how Steve keeps swimming by, all nonchalant, keeping tabs on him, making sure his isn't planning anything."
"The last resident is that hermit crab right there. She is the only female in the tank (or so we assume), and is known as Miranda. She is certainly easy, and every fish in there has tapped that ass, so yeah, stay away from her for now. I think she might possibly have crabs…"
Klaus began guffawing, cracking himself up with the joke. John and Vyachislav just looked at him, unimpressed.
"Well guys, its been fun, but I really got to go get some sleep. Got to be rested for that big party tomorrow, right?" John waved at the two crazy men before making his way back to his room.
Strolling inside, he saw Cortana on the podium, staring into the room. "Why, hello there Cort…ana…." It was then he saw it. Furbys. Furbys everywhere. And in the center of his newly saran-wrapped bed, was the alarm clock. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUU-"
A/N: Well, that's it for now kiddies! Until next time, remember: Furbys are evil. DO NOT touch them. Ever. Anyways, hope I haven't offended or alienated too many of you. Oh well, Deuces!