COAIB Part VI!

FWOOM! Girly Boy throws a blanket over Jonesy, blushing. "Cover yourself up, damnit!"

I wrap my arms around his two legs and threw him down on the floor and made a move to get my converse. "You little transexual freak!"

Girly Boy screamed (in what seemed like a very disturbing sexual manner, I daresay) and turned his (or ehr, depending on how you look at it) head away and started slapping me frantically with his petite hands and started kicking the floor.

"MERCY! I said MERCY! STOP!" He screamed.

"This isn't a hand game, you-" I began, as he rolled over and straddled me and started smacking me with my shoe.

I tried blocking my face with my hands, but this fruit of a guy just didn't give up. I made a move to grab my shoe quickly and sat up, making Girly Boy fall on his rear.

We both quickly stood up and he tackled me, and I felt my head go "SQUEAK" and bump against something hard, and then my head fly back down onto what felt like brick.

We both opened our closed eyes. (You know, just in case he smacked me in the eye with my shoe and I became horribly blind) My head was hanging out of the large two story window, and Girly Boy was leaning on me, his hands gripping my shoulders like I was some sort of sled.

We both tensed. Girly Boy looked behind me and down to the ground.

We weren't that high up. The hotel was small, a fall wouldn't kill us, even if we fell head first. I actually don't know, but that's what it feels like.

Suddenly, Girly Boy lets go of my shoulders and pushed the windowsill up higher, and he ducks down, but still manages to fall on his rear to the dirty maroon carpet.

I slipped myself back and rested my head far, far away from the window. Seriously. That was EPIC.

We both look up to see Jonesy, half clothed, sitting sprawled on the cal. king mattress. Wearing a green tee shirt that said, "Save the trees! That way my nuts can still grow" and his pants half on, he looked almost normal. His boxers, though, were pushed down, and he was clutching an ice pack to his...umm...meat stick.

He groaned before managing to murmur out, "What the flipping taco?" He glared at both of us from the mattress, and clutched his ice pack harder.

Girly Boy's response, though, was to throw my shoe at my face. It slips down to my lap, but I don't notice, because I'm still frowning at Jonesy.

"That freak...umm...stole my shoe." I lamely muttered, snarling at Girly Boy from afar.

Jonesy pursed his lips and looked at Girly Boy. "And you?"

"Um...she...he...drag queen! I mean, um, I'm not one to talk but..." Girly Boy mumbled. He pointed at me. "That's...a guy. From the Angry Girl Band concert. The one you...tackled. And, umm..."

He gestured toward me again. "He's dressing up as a girl. For no reason. I SAW him talk to Carrie's mom. Trying to be nice and close to her, and all. He's taking advantage of K...Katherine! I saw! I totally saw!"

Jonesy raised his eyebrows. "Sometimes I really don't know whether you just wanna cause trouble or if you're really this stupid, Logan."

Logan. This fruit's name is LOGAN. Hrrrrrrgrah!

"This," Jonesy nodded at me, seeing as his hands were busy at the moment, "is one of Carrie's many friends. Popo, I think."

"No." I said loudly, from the corner, my head down, my face deadly serious. "My name isn't POPO."

"Oh. Whatever. What is it, then?" Jonesy boredly inquired.

"Uhhh...uhhh..." I fidgeted.

"What, you don't eve know your name, Po?" Jonesy pushed. "Perv! Perv! Perv!" Logan chants from the sidelines.

"My...my name...is..."

"MAKE UP YOUR DAMN MIND!"

I throw my shoe at him, missing profoundly. It hits Logan instead, and he throws back to me, just as profoundly, hitting Jonesy straight in the jaw.

Jonesy slams my shoe on the mattress in indignation and threw it at me, landing in my lap. (profoundly) "Stop conspiring against me and answer my damn question!"

"It's Allison-Eclair Ma-Desine D'Aubigne!" I exclaim.

Siilence. Complete and utter silence. Both of them seem to be staring at me. I stare at them back.

Neither are moving. Or talking. I slowly stand up, and slowly, ever so slowly, I walk out the room, the door closing in an epic, "KTACH".

____________________________________________________________________

"Oh, Poppy, listen. The dermatologist and the person who can change your name are either sick, out of business, or on vacation. This is bad times, you know. Think economy." Katie says, from the front seat of her lamborghini.

Carrie snickers. "I knew you'd get lost. We waited a whole hour before calling Faery to see if you came back alright." Faery is my mom. Seriously. No joke.

"Imagine our surprise to find you talking peacefully with old man Connor!" Connor is the hobo that once chased me down the street for my donut. We mended ways and are now friends. Three new friends in this adventure of stupidity we know so much as Popina's Life.

"Hrmph." I cross my arms and look out the window, indifferently.

"Oh, cool!" Carrie pinches my seat from my left. I turn to her, my face bewildered.

Carrie pats/lightly slaps my cheek. "That's one cool mark there! I still don't wanna know how that got there, but..."

I touch my cheek lightly and look at the rearview mirror. Logan's shoe mark was still planted perfectly on my left cheek.

"Oh. Um. It's nothing."