4************************************************************************
The band walked out of the room and ran into a massive crowd of people, all of which were auditioning for the part of bass player.
"We'd better call Tito" stated Peter as he saw the hordes of people crammed into the hallways.
"Well thank you Captain State-the-Obvious" retorted Kennedy.
"Captain State-the-Obvious? He's Peter." replied Jeff, completely oblivious, as usual.
"It's an insult dumbass" spat Karlie.
"Dumbass? I'm Jeff. You people need to get your eyes checked or something.", said Jeff, still completely oblivious to. well, everything.
The band fought their way through the crowds, eventually stopping at the only payphone in the building. Kennedy proceeded to push everyone else out of the extremely long line up.
"Anyone got a quarter?" he asked.
"Here ya go" said Jeff happily, tossing Kennedy the quarter. The rest of the band gave him funny looks. "What?" asked Jeff, "I swiped it off of some guy on our way over here"
This didn't surprise the band too much. Jeff was a clinically proven kleptomaniac in all 50 states, Canada, and Mexico. In fact, the illegal drugs that he was caught in possession of were stolen off of a stoner. Not saying that Jeff wasn't a stoner or anything. but he didn't buy the drugs. just used them.
Kennedy inserted the quarter into the phone and punched in the number. It took several minutes for some one on the other end to pick up.
"Yeah. sup Will?. yeah. TWINS!? Lucky bastard. yeah. Well I'm sorry to interrupt your crazy sexcapades over there, but we need you to give us a lift. because we'll pay you. fine, in chocolate covered coffee beans. okay, drive fast", Kennedy then hung up the phone and faced the rest of the group, "I really shouldn't have told him to drive fast"
Will hung up the phone and turned to face the short blonde twins, presumably from Sweden. (A/N: Ich von annoying svedish ski instructor, ya?)
"Sorry ladies," he said, "there's been an emergency at work that I've gotta go to"
"Do you, like, have, like, an emergency, like, brain surgery or, like, something? . like?" asked one of the twins, sincerely believing that Will was a neurosurgeon and not a bus driver for a band that hasn't taken off the ground yet.
"Uhh. yeah. something along those lines", replied Will, hustling to get out of the door, "You guys know my number, right?"
"Like, tooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatttttaaaaaallly!", chorused the twins, dragging the word out for several syllables.
" Okay then, I'm really sorry to do this but.", said Will, just as he shoved the twins out the front door. Will then proceeded to lock all of the windows and doors before sneaking into the garage. He then clambered into his hippie-style van and sped through the opening garage door. Seeing that both of the twins were still standing, Will shut the garage door and sped out of the driveway, doing a 270-degree reverse onto the road, knocking over 3 garbage cans and a mailbox in the process.
"Where's he at?" asked Peter, growing very impatient, very quickly.
The band heard the screeching of tires and honking of many horns behind them. They immediately whipped around to see Will, speeding down the road in the middle of the two lanes. He finally pulled over the hippie van onto the curb where the band members were standing.
"Get in fast", directed Will through his open window, "There might still be a cop car out there, I shook one but he might've called in for back up"
"Will, what did you do?" asked Karlie hesitantly, "If it's murder, it's not on my hands"
"But technically," Kennedy butted in, "You can be extradited for harboring a fugitive.. But at least that's only 4-12 years in a medium security prison"
"I don't want to know, do I?" asked Peter.
"It's probably better for both of us if I don't tell you"
"Learned the hard way?"
"Damn straight"
The band clambered into the band's van. which technically was Jeff's. because he was the only one stupid enough to sign the insurance form.
"Where to?" asked Will
"Starbucks" chorused the band, milliseconds before Will threw the hammer down.
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