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By Kellyanne Lynch 5/14/01, 11:45 PM - 6/12/01, 4:43 AM The Longest Stinking Disclaimer Known to Humankind: You know everything that happens in this story? Welp, I made it up. Yup, every bleedin’ word of it. If any of the events in this story actually happened, TOTALLY co-ink-E-dink. The story may be all made up, but the members of the bands, (i.e., the Red Hot Chili Peppers, matchbox twenty, and Creed), are all so very real. If you didn’t know this already, boot to the head. Minor characters, (there are a boat load in this one), are all crazy figments of my imagination. BUT THEY SEEM SO REAL!!! If any of my imaginary friends sounds like yourself or someone like you, again, TOTAL co-ink-E-dink. My mission in creating this story, (yes, I have to make it sound important), is to 1) provide myself with hours of fun. 2) hopefully provide entertainment to other people (esp. Chewable Morphine, Fastfood Junkie, and Chilipeppergurl). 3) let everyone know how crazy I am about all three bands. 4) give people some important public service announcements. 5) add more fanfic to this section so that everyone knows the Chili Peppers rock. 6) improve my writing. 7) bring about world peace. I have no connection with RHCP, MB20, or Creed. But, if you happen to be a member of the band and you are reading this, please email me. I will love you forever. Oh, I do already. Please email anyway. As if that wasn’t enough... My McDonald’s Disclaimer: Recently, I realised that the fast food chain, McDonald’s, appears in many of my stories. I do not own McDonald’s. I do not work for them. I do not know any current employees of the restaurant but know people who once held minimum wage jobs there. No defamation is intended to the McDonald’s corporation. Their service is usually fast and friendly, and they have yummy food. And they are not paying me to endorse their restaurant. Thus I conclude my McDonald’s Disclaimer. My Waffle House Disclaimer: I have nothing against Waffle House. In fact, their hash browns are quite scrumptious. Again, not an employee, (and never was), and they’re not paying me to talk about them. If they were, they would have had me say something better. FYI: In this story, two other bands besides RHCP make appearances - matchbox twenty and Creed. Just so you know, in case you don’t already, matchbox twenty is: Rob Thomas (vocals), Kyle Cook (lead guitar), Adam Gaynor (rhythm guitar), Brian "Pookie" Yale (bass), and Paul Doucette (drums). Creed is: Scott Stapp (vocals), Mark Tremonti (guitar), and Scott Phillips (drums). And, if you don’t know who the Chili Peppers are, I don’t know why you’re reading RHCP fanfic. Oh well. RHCP is: Anthony Kiedis (vocals), John Frusciante (guitar), Flea (bass), and Chad Smith (drums). There. Everybody happy? Summary: People lie. The Chili Peppers learn this the hard way, and may not live to tell the tale. Rating: PG-13 * Please e-mail matchbox20orbusted@yahoo.com with questions, comments, theories, complaints, or words of wisdom. Peace, Love, and Chili Peppers! --------------------------------------------------- 1: Friendly Stranger 3:52 AM, Thursday Anthony turned from the tour bus window, brushing an errant strand of sunshine from his eyes. He glanced at the glowing green numbers that hovered at eye level in the gray expanse surrounding him. 4:00 AM. Just below the digits, Flea yawned. He appeared almost feline, his nose scrunched up, his teeth bared. He settled back against the seat, folding his arms across his chest, and slipped back into slumber. The AC batted around the tight, golden ringlets that covered his head. Anthony smiled at his sleeping friend, then gazed out the window again. His left arm was propped up on the seat, and the fingers of that hand drummed against the plastic. Sliding his right leg off his left, Anthony re-crossed his ankles. His legs were asleep. Numbness and tingling set into all his body, every joint and every muscle, but damned if he could sleep. He sighed, staring down at his feet. He loved the road, whether road trippin’ with his pals or touring with them, whether they were going bumping around town or to the most remote places in the world or to thriving metropoli. Anywhere! So long as he was moving, so long as he was free. So long as the wind whistled across his weathered face, through his ruffled hair. It was how he felt alive. Sleep doesn’t come easily for adventurers though. So much excitement! How could he stand still for a moment when the world was happening before his eyes? His fingertips struck the surface of the seat tops harder, and his palm slapped down. Anthony sprung to his feet. "Mmm?" Flea lifted his head, his eyes still closed, his mind only slightly at the scene. "It’s okay," Anthony raised his hands chest-level. "Sorry, buddy. Go back to sleep." "Mmm." Flea leaned back, and the muscles in his face relaxed. Anthony slinked past his friend, toward the back of the bus. Chad had left his laptop open, sitting on the small table where the Chili Peppers sometimes ate their meals on the road. Anthony slid into the bench in front of it. His face glowed bluish-green. Little trolls scurried across the computer screen, their hair wild and technicoloured. They kept bumping into one another and scampering off. Anthony chuckled to himself and tapped the mouse. The trolls disappeared. Anthony opened the America Online program. If he couldn’t physically wander around, at least he could do so virtually. The modem whistled and screeched. Anthony’s fingernails rapped across the mouse until the bus was silent. "Welcome!" AOL’s electronic voice greeted him. "You’ve got mail!" "No, I don’t," Anthony mumbled to himself. After all, it was Chad’s AOL account, not his. Anthony couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on the Internet. He wasn’t afraid of new technology, like a lot of people he knew were. He just never really had time for it. A box centred in the middle of the screen listed top news stories. Anthony wasn’t interested in any of them. Politics. All bureaucrats squabbling and eating up tax dollars. He X-ed out of the box and sighed. His dark eyes scanned the gray desktop as he sat back. What was he going to do online? An icon along the top of the screen said "People". ‘People are good.’ He clicked on it, and a box appeared. All these options for chat rooms, and Anthony had no idea what he wanted to talk about. Shrugging, he clicked "Lobby", which took him to LOBBY54. MERLYN8: I’m bored "Great," Anthony rubbed the bridge of his nose, his eyes trained on the screen. YANKEE040: A/S/L? LMONTGOM: 20/m/maryland FROOTY1: 14/f/Nashville Text began scrolling too fast for Anthony to read. Didn’t seem like anything interesting was going on here anyway. A box popped into existence on the left side of the screen, labeled "IM from BASKITKAYS". BASKITKAYS: So you play drums? Me too! ‘Must have read Chad’s profile.’ Anthony never had. He typed his reply: "No, I’m on my friend’s account. Drums rock though." He hit send. His message appeared beneath the first, beside the screen name CSMITH96. BASKITKAYS: Hell yeah! A/S/L? "38/m...," Anthony typed, then paused. Where was he anyway? Shrugging, he added, "I don’t know." BASKITKAYS: 24/f/VA / What do you mean you don’t know? CSMITH96: I’m on the road. I think I’m near Virginia though, if not there. BASKITKAYS: Cool! So, where are you headed? CSMITH96: Marysville VA ‘Should I tell her why?’ Anthony shrugged. This was the Internet, after all. Not like it could hurt anything. CSMITH96: My band’s got a gig there tomorrow night. BASKITKAYS: Cool! Hey, I live near Marysville! Maybe I can come see you play! Where are you playing? Anthony smiled, amused that this girl wanted to see his band in concert and had no idea to whom she was talking. CSMITH96: Okay! We’re playing at SAC Valley Amphitheater. What’s your name? I can have a ticket waiting for you at the door. ‘And a backstage pass.’ BASKITKAYS: Mariah Hodges Anthony found a napkin and a pen on the table and wrote down the name. CSMITH96: Okay I’ll make sure you get in ***** About sixty miles away, thick, callused fingers typed a reply: "Thanks! Sorry, but I have to go now. My roommate has to use the computer." CSMITH96: That’s okay! I’ll see you tomorrow night then. Show starts at 7:30, but get there early. BASKITKAYS: Great! Good night! CSMITH96: ‘Night, Mariah! "Mariah" smiled, running a hand over his auburn beard. He turned to the lanky kid sitting beside him. "Josh! ‘d we get it?" Josh’s pony-tailed mane flopped over his shoulder as he turned to "Mariah". He adjusted his wire frame glasses, a smile stretching the width of his jaw. "Sure did!" "Good." He grabbed the worn leather jacket from the back of his chair. "Let’s get moving." |