Zack
Inactive Member
[WARNING: The following contains coarse language and some adult content. Nothing too extreme though. Children beware!]
A few days before the Aethersperm’s open concert in Los Apagos…
Despite all things, the condo’s living room was more or less clean enough to traverse on this particular evening. Jon-Jon was known for being excessive, and excessively messy was indeed a high number on his habits list…however, the maid service was called in for a triple shift on this particular day, for a very good reason; it was the monthly ‘Bah-nd Meetin’!’, or so eloquently put by Mr. Rocketass himself. As such, Jon-Jon himself sat laid out luxuriously on the posh, red-leather sofa positioned in the corner of the room, strumming mindless rhythms and rhymes on his ‘livin’ room guitar’, the humming chords vibrating into nothing as the unplugged instrument chided smoothly with his hands’ motions. On the other end of the couch, sitting upright and motionless was Moe 17, his robotic shell matching the solemn aura permeating the room.
Rocketass was adorned in his usual fair for casual evenings; a black diamond-meshed shirt that left little of his upper torso to the imagination, black bell-bottom pants, well worn and slightly torn in various locations, and of course his untamable crop of raven-black hair, flumped loosely on the velvety-red leather of his couch. The Nepleslian shot sideways glance at the digital clock on the opposite wall, nearly indistinguishable with the horrendous amount of useless garbage and memorabilia (of himself, of course). Jon-Jon no sooner took a gander at his timepiece, however, before the door beside it exploded open, careening the hinged door solidly against the wall (which was already splintered into bits of plaster and wood from the doors same gesture repeated over the course of three years).
Bursting forth from the door, drawing back from her kick and leaning into a sprint, was none other than Dizzy Dinkaid herself. The miraculous mounds on her chest bobbed and weaved to and fro as the Geshrin bolted into the room, the solid-white t-shirt cut just below her marvelous blouse-mice doing little to restrain them, her well defined legs pumping with each step, each muscle clearly visible through the pearl floral-designed stockings ending below a not-so-surprisingly un-modest plaid miniskirt. With her long, fizzy, flowing forest of hot-pink hair accentuating her face’s soft features, Double D grinned maliciously as she ender her sprint a few feet away from the couch in a flying leap, curling her legs back and presenting both of her knees forward. Jon-Jon had little time to react; the soaring knee-attack landed directly on his chest as he stammered mindlessly in an attempt to temper her assault. “Oi oi oi OI OI OI-HUUURRGGHH! WOT THE FUCK, D?!”
Dizzy threw her head back and cackled, her assets jiggling with each upheaval of her lungs. “Aw shu’ it Jon-Jon! I’s Bah-nd Meetin’!” Double D chided with a smirk as she rolled off the crushed Nepleslian in a completely inappropriate sultry fashion. With a little sashay in her step, Miss Dinkaid planted her modest rump on the sofa across from Jon-Jon, parallel and separated only by a small square coffee table, throwing her arms up behind the couch and crossing her legs with little regard to her attire. “Now, we just waitin’ fer Shitz, roight?”
“I’m here.”
Dizzy and Jon-Jon leapt in unison as the voice rumbled from farther down Dizzy’s couch. Sure enough, Shitz was there, sitting down and leaning his body forward slightly with his elbows on his knees, hands drawn up in a contemplative fashion over his mouth. The massive dark-skinned Nepleslian wore a rather plain-looking army-green muscle shirt, ruddy mud-colored cargo shorts and Aethersperm-brand sneakers. His completely bald head glinted in the lighting of the room, the sheen only matched by the pair of dark-tinted sunglasses over his eyes. Shitz always wore sunglasses…in public, at least.
“C-cor, Shitz! ‘ow long you been there?!” Double D jumped back, flinching playfully as she glanced at the tall, dark Nepleslian.
“Long enough. What’s this all about?” Rodney asked solemnly, his expression unreadable behind the opacity of his eyewear.
“Bah-nd Meetin’, Shitz! Band stuff an’ th’ loike!” Jon-Jon wheezed out as he painfully pulled himself up from his laying position, standing up and grabbing a small piece of paper he had placed on the coffee table earlier. “Is tha’ fucken’ agent with ya’ll? ‘cause he ain’t here, ‘nd oi asked him to get ‘ere early today.”
Dizzy shook her head at the Jon-Jon’s question. “Naw, I fired ‘is ass yesterday.”
“Wot?! Wot, why!? Why th’ fuck didja do tha?!” Rocketass slapped a free hand over his brow.
“’cause he’s fuckin’ ‘orrible at sex!” Dizzy exclaimed, getting defensive about her actions, as usual. “I was ‘orny as fuck las’ noight after tha’ recordin’, so I called ‘im ova’ and was loike ‘Care for a lil’ overtime pay?’. But the’ he’s all ‘Err, Uhh, Umm?’, took me loike thirty minutes t’ get ‘im up an’ he lasted loike five! I was pissed off, I had th’ roight, so I fired his ass! Don’t give me tha’ look, ya shitfuck!” Double D shot Jon-Jon a fiery glare as he gave her an utterly disgusted expression.
“The shit?! Woy didntcha jus’ fuck someone else?!”
“Oh, wot, someone loike you?” Dizzy retorted, a fierce smirk spreading across her (absolutely breathtaking) lips.
“…wot?”
“Oh come off it Jay-Jay. You’ve been wantin’ a piece a’ this…” Dizzy uncrossed her legs with a tremendous lift before crossing them again, still grinning maliciously. “…eva since oi first stipped fo’ you an’ Shitz in audition fo’ your shitty garage band four years ago.”
“Shit, loike I’d eva’ want t’ touch yer junk, you must got ev'ry Es-Tee-Dee in tha' known universe boi now.” Jon-Jon denied. In actuality, he had wanted it. On many, many occasions. But right now, he was far too much in an uproar for the 35th fired agent this year. Jon-Jon quickly shook his head, his mane of untamable hair swinging side to side with him, and stomped his foot on the coffee table. “Foine, foine, FUCK IT! Ya know wot, I’ll just do this meself,” Rocketass said, holding up the slip up paper to his eyes and clearing his throat. The other three leaned back some, awaiting his message.
A few days before the Aethersperm’s open concert in Los Apagos…
Despite all things, the condo’s living room was more or less clean enough to traverse on this particular evening. Jon-Jon was known for being excessive, and excessively messy was indeed a high number on his habits list…however, the maid service was called in for a triple shift on this particular day, for a very good reason; it was the monthly ‘Bah-nd Meetin’!’, or so eloquently put by Mr. Rocketass himself. As such, Jon-Jon himself sat laid out luxuriously on the posh, red-leather sofa positioned in the corner of the room, strumming mindless rhythms and rhymes on his ‘livin’ room guitar’, the humming chords vibrating into nothing as the unplugged instrument chided smoothly with his hands’ motions. On the other end of the couch, sitting upright and motionless was Moe 17, his robotic shell matching the solemn aura permeating the room.
Rocketass was adorned in his usual fair for casual evenings; a black diamond-meshed shirt that left little of his upper torso to the imagination, black bell-bottom pants, well worn and slightly torn in various locations, and of course his untamable crop of raven-black hair, flumped loosely on the velvety-red leather of his couch. The Nepleslian shot sideways glance at the digital clock on the opposite wall, nearly indistinguishable with the horrendous amount of useless garbage and memorabilia (of himself, of course). Jon-Jon no sooner took a gander at his timepiece, however, before the door beside it exploded open, careening the hinged door solidly against the wall (which was already splintered into bits of plaster and wood from the doors same gesture repeated over the course of three years).
Bursting forth from the door, drawing back from her kick and leaning into a sprint, was none other than Dizzy Dinkaid herself. The miraculous mounds on her chest bobbed and weaved to and fro as the Geshrin bolted into the room, the solid-white t-shirt cut just below her marvelous blouse-mice doing little to restrain them, her well defined legs pumping with each step, each muscle clearly visible through the pearl floral-designed stockings ending below a not-so-surprisingly un-modest plaid miniskirt. With her long, fizzy, flowing forest of hot-pink hair accentuating her face’s soft features, Double D grinned maliciously as she ender her sprint a few feet away from the couch in a flying leap, curling her legs back and presenting both of her knees forward. Jon-Jon had little time to react; the soaring knee-attack landed directly on his chest as he stammered mindlessly in an attempt to temper her assault. “Oi oi oi OI OI OI-HUUURRGGHH! WOT THE FUCK, D?!”
Dizzy threw her head back and cackled, her assets jiggling with each upheaval of her lungs. “Aw shu’ it Jon-Jon! I’s Bah-nd Meetin’!” Double D chided with a smirk as she rolled off the crushed Nepleslian in a completely inappropriate sultry fashion. With a little sashay in her step, Miss Dinkaid planted her modest rump on the sofa across from Jon-Jon, parallel and separated only by a small square coffee table, throwing her arms up behind the couch and crossing her legs with little regard to her attire. “Now, we just waitin’ fer Shitz, roight?”
“I’m here.”
Dizzy and Jon-Jon leapt in unison as the voice rumbled from farther down Dizzy’s couch. Sure enough, Shitz was there, sitting down and leaning his body forward slightly with his elbows on his knees, hands drawn up in a contemplative fashion over his mouth. The massive dark-skinned Nepleslian wore a rather plain-looking army-green muscle shirt, ruddy mud-colored cargo shorts and Aethersperm-brand sneakers. His completely bald head glinted in the lighting of the room, the sheen only matched by the pair of dark-tinted sunglasses over his eyes. Shitz always wore sunglasses…in public, at least.
“C-cor, Shitz! ‘ow long you been there?!” Double D jumped back, flinching playfully as she glanced at the tall, dark Nepleslian.
“Long enough. What’s this all about?” Rodney asked solemnly, his expression unreadable behind the opacity of his eyewear.
“Bah-nd Meetin’, Shitz! Band stuff an’ th’ loike!” Jon-Jon wheezed out as he painfully pulled himself up from his laying position, standing up and grabbing a small piece of paper he had placed on the coffee table earlier. “Is tha’ fucken’ agent with ya’ll? ‘cause he ain’t here, ‘nd oi asked him to get ‘ere early today.”
Dizzy shook her head at the Jon-Jon’s question. “Naw, I fired ‘is ass yesterday.”
“Wot?! Wot, why!? Why th’ fuck didja do tha?!” Rocketass slapped a free hand over his brow.
“’cause he’s fuckin’ ‘orrible at sex!” Dizzy exclaimed, getting defensive about her actions, as usual. “I was ‘orny as fuck las’ noight after tha’ recordin’, so I called ‘im ova’ and was loike ‘Care for a lil’ overtime pay?’. But the’ he’s all ‘Err, Uhh, Umm?’, took me loike thirty minutes t’ get ‘im up an’ he lasted loike five! I was pissed off, I had th’ roight, so I fired his ass! Don’t give me tha’ look, ya shitfuck!” Double D shot Jon-Jon a fiery glare as he gave her an utterly disgusted expression.
“The shit?! Woy didntcha jus’ fuck someone else?!”
“Oh, wot, someone loike you?” Dizzy retorted, a fierce smirk spreading across her (absolutely breathtaking) lips.
“…wot?”
“Oh come off it Jay-Jay. You’ve been wantin’ a piece a’ this…” Dizzy uncrossed her legs with a tremendous lift before crossing them again, still grinning maliciously. “…eva since oi first stipped fo’ you an’ Shitz in audition fo’ your shitty garage band four years ago.”
“Shit, loike I’d eva’ want t’ touch yer junk, you must got ev'ry Es-Tee-Dee in tha' known universe boi now.” Jon-Jon denied. In actuality, he had wanted it. On many, many occasions. But right now, he was far too much in an uproar for the 35th fired agent this year. Jon-Jon quickly shook his head, his mane of untamable hair swinging side to side with him, and stomped his foot on the coffee table. “Foine, foine, FUCK IT! Ya know wot, I’ll just do this meself,” Rocketass said, holding up the slip up paper to his eyes and clearing his throat. The other three leaned back some, awaiting his message.
