Written by xxIlOvEbIlLyxx

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And In My Heart I Wanna Undo All This Murder And Give Back The Innocent Lives

Ha! SOpure and theTruth present the UPDATE OF THE CENTURY! Yeah, we know, we know... it's amazing XP. We hope you like it and giggle a little bit. It's ridiculous as always.



Chapter 6 – And In My Heart I Wanna Undo All This Murder And Give Back The Innocent Lives

“Wait.” I said and blocked Benji the way to Paul’s room, whose door was a bit ajar, so that we could see what was going on.

He shot me a confused glance, urgency evident in his eyes. “What? Why the fuck?” He hissed.

“We gotta do this more professional,” I whispered and nodded with my head in the direction we came from, giving him the hint to step a few feet backwards.

He did so, however, still confused. Only as we arrived at the stairs he finally realized the meaning of my great plan.

“Oh, I see… awesome idea, Billy!” He admitted, acknowledging my hard work to puzzle out this plan with a nod.

“Okay,” I breathed excitedly, “I suggest you make the music and I play the cop.”

Benji bit his lip nervously, “Alright.”

A few seconds later he began hammering the melody of Pink Panther to give our intention a bit more style, while I was sneaking carefully to Paul’s door where Joel’s weird shouts came from. I intimated Benji to lift his hands next to his head, put them together and form with his fingers a gun, just like I did.

“I go in and you give me rear cover.” I demanded.

“Okay, babe uh BOSS!” He whispered, shaking his head in irritation. What was that? Certainly he was just tired.

I licked my lips, bounced my eyebrows up and down, before I focused again on Paul’s room door. I took a deep breath, counted to three, whereas I nodded, and slammed the door open.

“Oh my god!” I breathed sharply, “Stop it, stop it! Police!”

Benji came forward and his eyes grew wide, “Mr. Thomas,” he said sternly, “Stop. Raping. My. Brother.”

Okay, Paul wasn’t really raping Joel, but at least he was lying upon him. We just wanted to make a little joke.

“Yeah, he’s right!” I said bumptious, “Put your hands behind your head, get up and stand with your face turned to the wall! Immediately!”

Thunderstruck, Paul got up. Joel, shocked and confused how he was in this situation, got up too and did the same like Paul.

Eventually they stood both against the wall, facing Benji and me with their backs.

“Oh my God, Oh my God! I haven’t done anything. Oh my God!” Joel whimpered like a little girl.

Benji cleared his throat, “Uhm.. Joel,” he said a bit irritated, “We didn’t want you to get up as well. But uh… if you wanna stay there… go ahead.”

Meanwhile I had got a whip from Paul’s toy box. Ha, this was gonna be fun…

With a crazed look on my face I swung the whip back and forth, laughing alarmingly every so often.

“Mr. Martin,” Benji dared it to call me by my last name, “I think the ice cream wasn’t good for you.”

Suddenly Paul’s head shot up,” What? Ice cream? Where? In my house? – WHOOHOOO!”

“Uh.. NO Paul,” I said determined. “Now get ready for your punishment.”

“Okay.” He squealed smiling and turned back to the pink-green painted wall.

I thought he didn’t know what would expect him the next moment.

However, before I could get the chance to hit their pretty, little asses – except Paul’s of course – Benji grabbed the whip from my hands…

… and hit my own butt.

“EE-AH!” I jumped and turned around to face Benji, only to see him smirking like a pervert idiot.

Oh. My. God. There was something seriously wrong with all of them. But what? I would see through their game!

I shook the confused expression from my face and recollected myself again quickly, “I’ll see guys at the commissariat.”

I turned around and went downstairs, shaking my head once in a while at my friends’ weird behaviors.
When I arrived in the living room I saw Ashlee still sleeping peacefully in our sleeping bag, which Paul had lent us, how I mentioned earlier.


***

Ten minutes later

Vehemently I ran through the room, grabbing stuff here and there from several commodes, tables and racks. I picked biros, papers and a typewriter, which I found in the highest board of the rack. Then I put all the things down in the little area that was bordered with the sleeping bags of Benji and Joel. This area was my commissariat.

“Hm?” I thought out loud, “Something is still missing…”

That was when it hit me: In every well equipped commissariat had to be a bottle of Whisky, in case important business associate would arrive surprisingly. I had seen that on TV.

So I went into the kitchen and dug through the refrigerator. Luckily I found the bottle with Whisky after a few seconds. I grabbed it and closed the door, before eyeing my find.

It looked a little bit disgusting. But then I realized that it looked that way, because Paul and I had mixed it with the rest of my Bacardi at our last party, two days ago.

Out of a sudden I heard footsteps coming from the staircase.

“Fuck. They’re coming,” I mumbled.

Quickly I rushed to my office and put the Bacardi-Whisky down. I also wrote “The commissariat – Billy Martin” on a piece of paper, before I stuck it on the outside of the living room door.

The footsteps became louder and stopped when my friends arrived in front of my door. I heard them murmuring and laughing ridiculously about something.

“No way he actually did that. I thought he was joking when he said he’d meet us in his commissariat.” I heard Joel’s voice.

“Sure he didn’t drink anything before you two came up there?” Paul’s muffled voice asked.

“Yeah. We only had a bit weird ice cream,” Benji said.

Suddenly the door flew open and the couple plus Paul entered. When they saw what I had built up they abruptly stopped in their tracks and stared at me with unbelieving faces.

“What the fuck, Billy?” Paul blinked, his mouth wide open.

I adjusted the black emo-glasses I had “borrowed” from Paul, “And you are-?”

“Uhm.. I’m.. Paul?” Paul replied with an insecure look on his features.

“Oh,” I asserted, “I remember. You’re Mr. Thomas, the prime suspect in this case.”

Before Paul or anybody else could argue I demanded them to sit down on the floor, which was already part of my office. I took a seat at the opposite side.

I just wanted to start with the legal proceeding, when Benji interrupted my actions.

“WOAH!” He exclaimed, “Did you see that shitty police documentation on BBC, too?”

I frowned, “Why?”

“Because of the Whisky, man! Wow, it looks so real here, dude!”

“Thanks.” I nodded, “Since you haven’t done anything illegal, Mr. Madden... uh Benji, it’d be a honor for me to offer you one.”

Benji’s eyes grew wide, while the others pulled a face.

“That’s really nice of you,” Benji admitted and grabbed the bottle. He took a swing, before setting the bottle back down and wiping his mouth.

He coughed a little bit, “What is that? That isn’t Whisky.”

Before I could answer his question, Joel snapped the bottle away and took a long, deep sip.

“Gah!” He grimaced, “That’s disgusting, man. Hm… I would say,” he smacked his lips, “that’s Wodka and Korn.”

“What?” Benji raised his eyebrows, “No way. Let me try again.” He pulled the bottle from Joel’s hands and took another sip from it. “I’m pretty sure it’s Blue and Klara.”

“What the fuck is Klara?” Paul asked dumbfounded.

I wanted to involve my specialized knowledge und piped up, “It’s some shit from Germany, I think.“

“What? I didn’t know we have such things in our house. – Well, let me try.” And with that Paul had already gulped a huge amount of Bacardi-Whisky.

“Hey, don’t empty that shit! I’m the commissar!” I yelled, snatching the bottle away from Paul and taking a sip by myself.

“Hey, I wanna try that Klara shit, too!” Joel argued.

“Calm down man. I never said it was Klara!”

“Well, than let us find out what it is!” Benji pouted.

I rolled my eyes and let happen what had to happen. After three rounds of Bacardi-Whisky or Klara-Blue we all lay on the floor, giggling and making fun of Joel’s hard-on.

“Hey Benji baby,” I chuckled, watching Benji’s pupils focus on me.

“YeeAA-RM?” He slurred, totally drunk.

“I’d love to fuck your ass,” I laughed and slapped his tight ass cheeks.

“Whooohoooo!!!” Joel screamed and tried to throw his hands in the air, but miserably failed as he punched himself in the face. “Who-hoo-HOO wants to help meee with jerking o-hoff! La, la…!”

“WHAT? – I, I, I! Please!” Paul laughed as if somebody was tickling him. “I’ll do you a fucking blow-job, bitch!”

While Paul pulled down Joel’s pants, I quickly fixed my lightly blurred gaze on Benji’s full pout lips.

“Aren’t you jealous of Paul?” I wanted to know, petting the tip of his nose.

Benji shook his head, knitting his brows. “What? No, I could never be jealous of my own bro-“

“What the fuck is going on here, BOYS?” A high pitched voice interrupted Benji, causing us to freeze.

The whole room was quiet, everybody stared at Ashlee, who was looking at us very angry. Every one contemplated despairingly what to say.

“We’re making a party,” Joel finally came up with something, grinning exaggeratedly and pointing to his little Joely.

Ashlee’s eyes seemed to fall out of her head. “What? I’m very disappointed of you.”

We looked guiltily to the ground. Wow, that was tough. Now my only girlfriend hated me.

“Yes, I’m very disappointed… that you made a party without MEEE!” She suddenly shouted and ran over to us. She hugged us, turned on the radio and grabbed the Whisky bottle.

Everybody continued doing what he had done earlier and within five minutes Ashlee was just as drunken as us.

I didn’t get the opportunity to kiss Benji, because I had to spend some quality time with my girlfriend. We came closer and closer until her lips were just a few inches away from mine. My eyes gleamed with anticipation and eventually she closed the gap between our mouths. The looked-for kiss finally happened.

But it wasn’t really what I had expected and I realized something horrifying…


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