1Who Stole My Underpants?
"She leaned closer, the saline tears from her eyes making small stains on the scrap of paper. Quietly she wiped her eyes and continued.
"'I don't know if you will ever forgive me, Robert,' she wrote, 'but you and I both know that I have to do this. Remember me. I will be with you when the sun goes up and when it falls. I will be with you when-'"
Bob turned the car radio off with a click. "Radio Reader's going to put me straight to sleep," he said.
"Thank you," Spencer added from the back seat. "So can I put in Supernova now?"
"No," Bob said flatly.
"Why not?" said Joe, who was riding shotgun.
"Because I'm the driver."
"Well... who made you the driver?" Joe asked accusingly.
"I'm the one with the glasses, thank you very much." Bob hit the steering wheel to emphasize his point.
Joe and Spencer glanced at each other and grinned. "Are ya ready kids?" Joe said with a fake pirate accent.
"Aye, aye, captain!" Spencer yelled back.
"I can't hear you!"
"Aye, aye, captain!"
"Oh, no, please," Bob began to moan.
Joe ignored him. "Ohhhh... who lives in a pineapple under the sea?" he sang.
"Sponge Bob Square-" Spencer answered.
"All... RIGHT!" Bob yelled. "Fine, I give up! You can put in Supernova."
"All right," Spencer said as he handed the colorful CD to Joe who placed it into the portable CD player. The player was hooked into the stereo through the car's tape player since the car was made before built-in CD players had become mainstream. The stereo itself was a bit of a troublemaker, since the speakers on the right side had a tendency to shut themselves off randomly, and only random jiggling and poking of the volume dial would solve the problem.
"Once this CD is over we're listening to Miles Davis," Bob threatened as the loud, techno-rock music began to play.
Joe shrugged. "Fine with me."
Bob pulled into a gas station off Interstate 26 just outside of Summerville. Joe and Spencer immediately rushed inside to grab snacks. By the time Bob had finished refueling the old Volvo station wagon they had each grabbed at least six small bags of candy and four soda bottles a piece.
They were on their way to the checkout when Bob entered the store. Seeing them, he shook his head. "Guys," he said with a grin, "you know I'm going to have to limit you to four each."
"What?" they whined in unison.
"Actually, I'd rather you guys only get one. Remember why we went to Costco yesterday?"
Joe and Spencer sighed and put back most of their spoils. They were on their way out when Joe's cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller id which read, "FAIRY GODFATHER." He flipped open the phone. "Hello..."
Bob and Spencer popped open the hatch of the car. Inside were several duffel bags stuffed to the brim with "MOFia" spray-painted on the side. The object of their attention, however, was the cooler. It was a normal Wal-Mart style cooler except for the rubber hoses running around and through it. Bob pressed a small latch, and the cooler opened with a loud hiss as fog began to pour out of it.
"Department of Homeland Security's going to be on us for this thing one of these days," Bob said, pulling out a bottle of Hawaiian Punch.
Spencer nodded and pulled out his own bottle of Sprite. "Yeah, you know they want one," he said with a smirk.
Joe walked up as he closed his phone. "That was FG. He said to take I-95 to exit... one hundred something... I forget." He grabbed a bottle of orange soda and shut the cooler.
"Or something?" Bob asked skeptically. "Joe, if we're going to get to the paintball war we need to know where to turn. Give me that." He grabbed the phone from Joe and pressed the speed dial button. "Hello, Fairy Godfather? Sorry to bother you again, but I need the exit number."
Bob drove past a sign that read, "Florence: 7 mi." Joe was changing the CD since Miles Davis had finished. He flipped through the CD wallet, muttering as he went along. Finally he made a grunt that sounded like he was pleased.
"Please make it something tolerable," Bob whined.
Joe only laughed evilly and pressed the play button.
"Dear Diary," the CD began in a cheesy voice. "Hi, it's me John again. After all, who else would it be?"
"Joe!" Bob and Spencer yelled in unison.
"Does it have to be John Reuben?" Spencer moaned.
"Hey, you got to hear Echoing Green, Bob got to hear Miles Davis, I get to hear John Reuben," Joe said.
"Just let it slide, Spence," Bob said. "We're almost there." He pulled off onto exit 153, a small road outside Florence. After driving for a few minutes they found a long driveway leading to a tent and a group of cars. "Here it is, guys. Now, we just need to make our grand entrance."
The three of them looked at each other and nodded. Spencer gulped and said, "Let's do this."
"WHOOOOOO!" Spencer yelled, throwing his hands in the air.
Bob shifted into drive and sped down the driveway at a speed that would normally be considered reasonable. This time, however, he had a fifteen-year-old on his roof.
"You doing all right, Spencer?" Joe yelled through the sunroof.
Spencer stopped his screaming to answer. "I've always wanted to ride on the roof!"
Bob just smiled and adjusted his hat. He did his best to slow down gently, but when he stopped in their parking space Spencer still tumbled onto the hood of the car.
Another teenager in a red t-shirt and spiked hair walked up clapping. "Bravo, bravo, I would expect nothing more from a ragtag group as yourselves."
Joe, Bob, and Spencer stared at him coldly. "All in the spirit of friendly competition," Spencer answered.
"We'll see, we'll see," the teenager said with a smirk as he walked off.
"Gentlemen," Bob said after a moment of silence, "let's go kick some butt."
"All RIGHT!" Spencer yelled. "The MOFia has arrived!"
The three of them ran to the back of the Volvo and pulled out the duffel bags. In them were various containers of paintballs, belts loaded with spare carbon dioxide cartridges, and orange t-shirts with "MOFia (men on fire)" on them.
Bob threw the bucket hat he had been wearing into the back seat of the car and pulled out a cap with several paint splotches on it. "We'll get him this time, precious," he muttered.
Joe leaned over to Spencer. "He's talking to the hat again," he whispered.
The sun was already below the horizon, leaving only the aura of red in the sky behind it. Joe, Bob, and Spencer silently stuffed their gear back into the bags and changed out of their paint-covered shirts. They silently climbed into the car and drove away. As Bob pulled back onto interstate 95, Spencer said, "Do we have any Tylenol?"
Joe fumbled in the glove compartment and tossed the small bottle back to Spencer. "Godfather left a voicemail," he said to Bob. "Looks like he got us a room."
"Good," Bob said. "I don't think I can drive home after a beating like that."
The hotel was a nice, cozy Mariott. When they got to the room, Joe picked up his phone and pressed the "reply" button to call Godfather. After a short conversation he flipped flipped the phone closed. "He's offered to buy us a movie for the night, guys."
Spencer dived onto one of the beds. "It's one of the TV's where you order movies? Sweet."
Bob nodded and sat down on the other bed. "A movie would be nice."
Joe frowned. "It's not exactly that, though. He said, 'I get you good, American movie. It called, "Star Wars: Attack of the Clones." Very good. You like, no?'"
The three guys gave each other a look that said, "We have to watch THAT movie?"
Bob stood up quickly. "Well, guys, if it's a movie we're going to watch, then we're going to watch it. And as usual, in order to keep from going insane with all of the movie's bad-ness, there's only one thing to do."
"Mystery Science Theater!" Spencer said.
Bob nodded. "I'll go get the food. Joe, order the movie."
Joe grinned. "You're just as bad as the two of us, Bob."
Bob shrugged and walked out the door.
Anakin: She doesn't recognize me a bit.
"No, she just wants to kill you," Joe said.
Obi-Wan: Nonsense, Anakin. Be mindful of your feelings.
"But I got dibs on her tonight," Spencer said.
Bob walked in the door carrying sodas and several single-serving bags of Doritos. "Pig out, guys."
Anakin: Relax, everything's under control.
"I've even planted deadly scorpions in her room to kill the assassin," Bob said.
"That was good," Spencer muttered.
The three of them sat in front of the TV, their backs against one of the beds. The only light in the room came from the TV set, which was now showing the latest Star Wars movie.
Obi-Wan: [frustrated] What took you so long?
"I was proofreading Bob's thesis," Joe said.
"Hey, I resent that!" Bob quipped.
"Well, you have to admit," Spencer said, "that thing was huge. And your presentation lasted a whole hour!"
Bob rolled his eyes. "There's a lot to say about Jazz music. You'll appreciate it once you have to do yours, guys."
Joe laughed. "I suppose I should be working on mine now, but the summer lasts two months anyway."
"Is it anything like Science Fair?" Spencer asked with a hint of concern. "'Cause if it is, I'm a dead man."
"Naw," Bob said. "Just pick something you're interested in and you'll do fine."
Assassin Lady: I was hired by a bounty hunter named- [shot and dies]
Obi-Wan: [picks up the mysterious dart]
"Someone's good with darts," Spencer said.
As the night got later, the movie got worse and the jokes went down with it. Eventually, Joe and Spencer had to resort to cheesy pickup lines they had learned at school.
Anakin: It feels so... soft. [Anakin stroked Padme's shoulder.]
"Your name must be bunny-" Joe began.
"'Cause ya look so fluffy," Spencer finished.
Bob shook his head. "Sometimes I can't believe I hang out with you guys."
"Aw, come on," Spencer said. "You know you have fun."
Bob took a sip of Hawaiian Punch. "Yeah, I guess so."
Padme: I don't think we should be in a relationship.
"But here, you can-" Spencer began before he was wrestled to the ground by Joe and Bob.
"Don't say it!" they yelled.
[Antithesis] .com