Sometimes, strange things happen around our tour bus.
Living on tour is never boring.
Okay, yeah, sometimes it is boring.
But what I mean is
it's interesting. The four of us each have our own respective personalities, and living together on a bus is like throwing those personalities into a blender on puree and then voila! You have a strange blend of zany, chaotic, activity and muddled body clocks, weird smells, and a lot of coffee.
It's difficult to have very much privacy or breathing space, no matter what bus upgrade we've earned this time around. For example, when someone (Ray) falls asleep on the couch in the lounge, there is absolutely nowhere to sit unless you fancy being sardined in your bunk for the time said person is snoozing the day away.
Then there's the bathroom, which is a toxic gas chamber, especially when the catering menu offers Mexican food. I swear it needs to be fumigated before I will ever go in there other than to take an emergency shower. Not only that, but doing anything other than checking your hair in there would be pointless; it's smaller than a closet.
You can't really cook much, or at least nothing that takes longer than ten minutes. Produce and dairy products don't last long enough before spoiling, and most of the time we eat what the catering offers, anyway. It's too hard to cook with people walking past, plus none of us really have the patience for cooking. Mikey burns Poptarts every time he makes them, and one time I saw him scrutinize the directions on a bag of frozen fish sticks for at least fifteen minutes before finally asking Gerard for help, because 'this is Chinese or some shit'.
So, overall, we almost always know where each other are on the bus. It's bigger than our old van, I guess, but after a few weeks on the road, hearing Mikey sing Fall Out Boy obliviously loud in the shower gets kind of old (Gerard tells me and Ray, despite our concern, or moreover annoyance, that we shouldn't approach him about it as we might 'damage his fragile sense of confidence').
If you ask me, Mikey's self-esteem is in no way fragile. The cocky bastard makes fun of me when I can't match my socks (our laundry gets mixed up, okay?!).
Try telling that to Gerard, though.
Gerard is really the only one making effective use of our limited space and privacy. He rarely ever complains unless his brother decides to 'borrow' his DVDs and never give them back, or if me and Ray have a burping contest. Most of the time, he perches himself somewhere and sketches. I've observed that his favorite spot so far is the comfy, brown, leather armchair in the front lounge.
Sometimes, I'll get lucky and all of the guys will happen to be gone out for the night, or a good portion of it; Ray likes to go drinking with Dewees, and Mikey either tags along or finds a coffee shop to sit in.
Most of the time, Gerard doesn't go out. He doesn't drink anymore, not really at least. He'll have a glass, maybe, or some wine on the holidays, but nothing more. And he doesn't like to party or hang out in hip coffee shops like Mikey.
So, it'll be me and Gerard staying behind on the bus, because I will most always choose not to follow either the guitarist or the bassist to their extravagant, evening adventure. The truth is, being 'stuck on the bus with Gerard' really isn't a bad thing at all. He's quiet, mostly keeps to himself when he's drawing or reading, and rarely ever sings in the shower or falls asleep on the couch. And he knows how to make fish sticks, too.
Tonight was one of my lucky nights. I had settled down on the unoccupied couch and started up a game of Spider solitaire on my laptop. I was grateful and looking forward to having the bus practically to myself for the night, as Gerard was already hard at work on a sketch of what had looked like Wolverine about an hour ago when he walked past me in the kitchen to grab the potato chips and then head back to his bunk, or what Mikey, Ray, and I had coined 'the lair'.
Ray whined at me as he put his jacket on. "Come on, Frank. You're being such a party-pooper, staying in all the time. Ya know we're in New York tonight. You can at least come out with me and Dewees and have some fun. I think I heard something about Misfits karaoke!"
I rolled my eyes. "Ray, I'm not interested in watching you and Dewees play pool drunk. And there never has and never will be Misfits karaoke, ever."
He shrugged and I drug my virtual ace over to connect onto the number two card.
"You're missing out on a good time, though.", he tried one last time.
"I don't care. I want peace and quiet.", I retorted. Ray looked slightly offended, but went out the door anyway after waving in my direction and grabbing his wallet. Mikey had left forty-five minutes ago.
At last, tranquility was mine.
My high-pitched, terrorized, ear-drum-popping scream echoed in the lounge and I jumped, my laptop flying off my lap and thunking to the floor, which luckily, was carpeted. I scrambled to my feet and ran away from the couch where I had been sitting, my heart pounding in my chest.
that was the biggest spider I have ever seen in my life...", I breathed to myself, trying to regain my sanity and think of what to do.
I expected Gerard to run out and investigate what the cause of my shriek had been, but minutes passed and Gerard was nowhere in sight.
That fucker! What if I had been being attacked by
by a robber
or a crazy fan with rabies
or Michael Myers!?
Paranoid that the spider would come after me, or would unexpectedly pop out of a corner and snap at my feet with it's gigantic, venomous, fangs, I tip-toed my way quickly across the room and into the bunkroom, slamming the door.
I yanked the privacy curtain of Gerard's bunk open and said shakily, "Gerard! Gerard
I need help. It's an emergency."
Gerard was lying back against his mound of pillows with his sketchbook in his lap. I glanced at the drawing and then at his legs. I noticed he wasn't wearing pants, but shorts. Very short shorts, with little red hearts that I would have otherwise thought were stupid printed all over them.
It was weird at first but then
"What? Is there a natural disaster in the bathroom? Or is Mikey cooking? Because if not, then I"
"No, Gerard, it's bad. Just come see, please.", I said. I was never one to sound so desperate or child-like, but this was a giant, creepy, mutant, arachnid we're talking about here, and I would not sleep until I knew it was dead or gone.
Gerard sighed and swung his bare legs over the edge of the bunk. He didn't look that annoyed, which was a plus. I bucked up some bravery and lead the way to the front lounge.
"What? I don't see anything.", Gerard said with a gentle sigh. I took note of his full outfit now; they were stupid girl pajamas. Booty shorts and a baby-doll tee. They had to be Lindsey's, right? But what the fuck, why was Gerard
"It's over there
it was on my keyboard! A spider! It was huge, Gerard!", I exclaimed, hopping up onto the countertop. I could not be too careful; that thing was still loose on the floor.
Gerard gave me a look of amusement, but it pissed me off.
"Don't you even dare make fun of me! It was big, alright, and scary! Just
Just find it and smoosh it!", I demanded.
Gerard moved the blanket around, shaking it out a little, and then examined my keyboard. He bent over and checked under the couch, too, and okay
now I was staring at his ass. His shorts were way too tight, and maybe I should have told him to pull them down, but quite frankly I liked the view, as horrible as that was on my conscience.
"Found it!", he hollered.
Snapping back to reality, I covered my eyes and cringed. "Ew! Ew, get rid of it! Kill it!"
Gerard giggled and I peeked through my fingers at him.
He picked it up. He actually picked up the spider and held it in his hand.
I could have passed out.
"What the hell are you doing!? Get it out of here!", I said, my voice cracking in half with terror.
Gerard laughed again, "Frank, it's just a cellar spider. Ya know, a daddy-long-leg'er?"
My eyes widened. I couldn't believe he was holding it like a fucking hamster! Just like a little pet!
"Oh my god! I don't care, kill it, kill it, kill it!", I chanted, appalled.
"Calm down! I used to get them all the time in my bedroom. They don't bite, or well, they do. They're actually the most poisonous type of spider, but their fangs are too small to bite a human.", Gerard informed me, as if this new information would miraculously make me decide to spare the eight-legged cretin.
I'm serious, squish it, or I'm sleeping in the storage under the bus.", I threatened. I wouldn't really sleep in the storage. There were probably more spiders under there, too.
Gerard rolled his eyes and walked over to the bus door, opened it, and let the creature outside. I sighed and slid off the countertop.
"You have a neurotic fear of spiders, Frank.", Gerard remarked, shaking his head.
I hip-checked him. "Yeah, well, you must have a neurotic fear of pants. I can see your junk, ya know.", I said bitterly, admittedly having been checking him out this whole time. I didn't normally get to see a whole lot of Gerard's thighs. As embarrassed as I was, thinking my friend was hot, It wouldn't go further than that, anyway. So I shrugged it off.
Gerard just looked at me and smirked, and that made my chest twitch a little bit.
The next night, Ray and Mikey stayed in. Ray was hungover from the night before and Mikey claimed Boston didn't have any good nightclubs, even though he hadn't even left the bus to test his theory.
So, Ray was naturally hogging up the sofa and snoring like a bear, and Mikey was bathing himself to infinity On High on his iHome's loudest volume setting. I was trying to watch The Blair Witch Project on television over the combined sound of both outputs.
I hadn't really seen Gerard all night, but now he was showing his face, sketchbook under arm, and I was sitting in his favorite seat.
Tonight he was wearing this absolutely ridiculous, short, ruffly, white nightie with a pink bow on the front. It reminded me frighteningly of Wendy from Peter Pan; if Wendy was a guy and was also a slut. But it was also kind of familiar-looking.
"Like my pajamas?", he asked me outrageously, and really, was he kidding?
I swallowed and only then noticed my throat was dry as he made his way over.
"Uh, sure.", I said. There were a thousand other things I could have said, maybe a dozen different insults, too, but wow...if only it were a little shorter in the back, and then--
"You're in my seat.", he declared, tapping his foot expectantly.
"I don't see your name on it.", I defended, leaning to the side to look past him and focus again on the TV.
"Fine.", he replied, and the next thing I knew, he was plopping down into my lap and wriggling to get comfortable.
"Hey! Who gave you permission to sit on me?!", I complained, shifting under his weight. I could tell by his cheeks that he was smiling, even though I couldn't see his face from behind.
"You owe me for rescuing you from the spider.", he returned, half-squishing me. I huffed. It really wasn't all bad, though I guess. His night-gown was actually riding up in the back now and
Oh my god, where are his underwear!?
So Gerard was practically sitting on my crotch with his bare ass, now and it was kind of hard not to let my mind wander.
Gerard watched the movie while I spent the remainder of the time lost in a daydream. I knew Gerard had really nice hips, but now that I was this up-close-and-personal with the man's ass, that was pretty nice, too. And this stupid ridiculous dress-thing for girls was seeming less and less stupid. It was more complimentary to him than I'd originally realized. It hugged his sides a little bit, clearly cut for women, and it was much too short, so as he sat it definitely rode up.
"Hey, Frank. Nice lingerie, faggot.", Mikey said, walking out of the bathroom and greeting me and Gerard with separate demeanors.
Gerard rolled his eyes and laid across my lap now, and I hoped he didn't hear my breath hitch slightly at the slide of his thighs.
"Shut up, flannel-boy. I'm sure Alicia would find it hilarious to know that your pajamas have Ninja Turtles on them.", Gerard threatened. I watched Mikey's face change from smug to one of horror.
"They keep me warm!", Mikey grumped, stomping over to the couch and shoving Ray off so he could sit. Ray tumbled to the floor, because Mikey was actually surprisingly strong in spite of his skinniness. Ray grumbled and rubbed his head, sitting up and glaring at Mikey.
"Fuck you, too, asshole.", Mikey barked. Gerard giggled and I sighed, wondering when this torture might end. I just wanted to go to bed.
By the time the movie was over, I kind of felt like a pervert. I was literally using every ounce of my energy not to get a hard-on, and I was totally confused about the plot of the movie.
I squirmed from beneath Gerard and announced that I'd be going to bed.
I laid awake for almost a good forty-five minutes before deciding the television was surely loud enough to cover for me if I jerked off.
Which I did, to the fantasy of Gerard in that stupid nightie.
The next night, as I occupied myself playing Mario cart, Gerard skipped out into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.
His ass-cheeks were staring back at me, only half-covered by a pair of lacey, black, underwear. My eyes popped out of my head. I had so many questions:
Where the fuck is he getting these fucking porn outfits? I swear to God, I've seen them before
Why does he think it's okay to wear them around the bus where it's impossible to get away from him?
I was well aware that Ray and Mikey were both getting ready to go out again tonight. They were going to leave me alone with Gerard all night!? No
not like this!
"Hey, Frank.", Gerard said with a grin, noting the look of deep bafflement and inner struggle, "Do you like my pajamas?"
Oh god, do I. Let me just list the good things first; I had decided that Gerard had the best ass, and I was kind of pleased to be seeing more of it. His hips were a sin, for one, and with that ass, he had a straight ticket to hell. And I'd follow him the whole way like this.
He also had on this tank-top thing, which to me looked like a cami someone had cut up the front, only to make it more revealing. As if lace wasn't skimpy enough. I could see his god damned nipples through what was practically a doily for a top. One train of thought was completely repulsed and totally scarred from seeing a little TOO MUCH of Gerard, while the other, less-morally driven, more prominent train of thought was all for it, and in fact, was telling my dick to fucking make a jump for it.
Instead of answering his question, I asked, "Why are you wearing that?" My voice was flat and my eyes were questioning.
Gerard set down his coffee mug and slinked over to me, ruffling my hair with his hand. I felt like a dog being scratching in just the right place. He perched himself on my right thigh and leaned closer to my ear, "Thought it looked nice. Plus, you seem to like it.", he giggled breathily. I proceeded to melt into a puddle of mush and testosterone as Gerard got up, shaking his hips as he moved to sit in his chair and draw. I was in shock.
Gerard was supposed to be the off-centered, innocent, do-gooder of the band, now. His brother was the partyer and I imagined Mikey to be much more promiscuous.
Yet here Gerard was, fucking hitting on me, cross-dressed like a French whore. And was his attire fucking invisible to Ray and Mikey, because
"Frank, we'll see you guys later. Going to catch a show downtown.", Ray said nonchalantly. I stared at him, as if to silently ask; Do you NOT see what our singer is wearing right now?!
"Uhm, okay.", I answered bluntly, looking to Mikey for help now. Surely, he'd say something.
Mikey looked boredly at both Gerard and I. "Later."
"Bye!", Gerard sing-songed.
I couldn't even fucking believe it. They were marooning me here with Gerard dressed like this! Come to think of it, they hadn't even invited me tonight, because I would have totally said yes. Anything to be out of here.
The bus door closed and the air thickened. I watched Gerard sketch. He had a small smile on his face. Sometimes I tried not to look. I couldn't help it, and my game was suffering. I kept driving off of cliffs and hitting things, so eventually I just shut the game off and turned on the television.
Gerard smirked, not looking up from his sketchpad. "Bored of Mario Cart?"
I nodded. I wished I was tired. It was too early for me to pull the 'exhaustion' card. Gerard glanced over, one of his straps slipping off his shoulder.
I wanted to die. Or maybe bend him over. Or both. But I liked the second choice better, although the first one seemed more probable.
"We can do something else.", Gerard suggested. I silently hoped this something else involved some sort of sexual activity, because honestly the ethical side of my brain was shutting down. I totally had a hard-on for my best friend.
And he was eating this up, so either he was teasing me about this or he was genuinely flirting with me.
I shook my head. "No, uh, thanks. I'm just going to go take a shower."
Gerard giggled softly and I got up, thankfully free. I wished I could drag out my shower for a few hours until the guys came back.
I turned the radio on and turned the temperature dial on cold as I stepped into the shower. It felt really nice.
I trusted the spray of the water and the music to cover for me, and I hoped it did, because I totally moaned Gerard's name when I came. Admittedly, I wasn't that disgusted with myself. Gerard was kind of asking for it.
As I washed my hair, I wondered for a serious moment what this was really all about. I mean, it wasn't like he'd always worn this kind of shit to bed. Last week, he had plaid pants and a t-shirt on at breakfast.
And what was I supposed to do? Keep getting off on him? Not to say I'd never had sexual thoughts about another man before, but Gerard, not so much. Nothing was ever serious when it came to stage stunts or jokes.
this was dirty, because it was real. It was so dirty, and I felt really weird, because hello, it's Gerard. But I already tried to control myself.
Where were my boundaries?
I needed to admit to myself that I wanted to get it up with Gerard.
I got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist, and went to my bunk. I started getting dressed when I saw the curtain move and Gerard's head poked out of my bunk.
"Whoops, sorry, Frankie.", he snickered, opening the curtain and sitting up even though I was half naked. I jumped into my boxers.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Gerard! You scared the living shit out of me.", I snapped, running a hand through my hair. His batted his eyelashes, lying on my cot seductively. I wanted to crawl ontop of him so bad, because shit, that lace and Jesus his curvy hips. He had to be wearing fucking lip gloss; no one's lips look that good on their own, except for maybe Gerard's. I was being a sicko, but I didn't even care. He'd probably leave lip gloss on my cock right now if he
"I said sorry. Wrong bunk.", Gerard remarked. He stretched out, though. "Yours is so comfortable. "
Okay, now he definitely knew. He HAD to know he was teasing me. And he was doing it on purpose, because he knew that I could fucking look but not touch.
What a fucker!
"Get out so I can go to sleep.", I sighed. Gerard fucking whined in complaint but obeyed, climbing out and fixing himself.
"Hey, Frank? You might wanna be quieter when you jerk off, especially if you're gonna personalize your moans."
My heart could have stopped.
This bastard fucking knew.
The next night was a hotel night with a day off. I purposefully avoided Gerard. Instead, me and Ray went to a mall in Vegas.
"Have you seen what Gerard's been wearing to bed lately?", Frank asked somewhat casually as he and Ray walked past Gamestop, and he gave it a longing face.
"Yeah, did it work?", Ray asked somewhat mindlessly, gravitating towards the video game store.
I was taken aback, "Did what work?", I asked him in confusion.
"Oh. Nevermind.", he replied, closing his mouth.
"I hate you! Tell me, you big stupid nerd, or I won't let you inside.", I threatened, blocking the entrance to the store.
Ray lowered his eyebrow and barged right through me, nearly mowing me clean over.
"Secrets don't make friends!", I called, crossing my arms angrily.
Gerard voted me as his roommate, but by now I kind of figured that he'd bribed Ray into voting for Mikey as his own roommate. I gave the guitarist a death glare and followed Gerard up to our room.
I actually went and took a shower before anything could get at all awkward; I took a nice, long, shower, and then dressed in the bathroom with the door locked. After I'd brushed my hair, I stepped cautiously from the bathroom and went into my room, thankful it was separate because me and Gerard were splitting a suite. If we'd had to have shared beds, I would have probably slept out in the hallway.
I flipped on my TV and settled on my bed with a can of Coca-Cola. I watched Halloween and remained unbothered, for a little while, at least. Then the door creaked open and in walked Gerard. I wasn't even surprised that he was wearing some kind of skanky outfit, but it looked kind of familiar again. I couldn't place it.
It was a black, satin-lace, top with matching panties, both trimmed in pink ruffles. And dear Lord, I felt my dick twitch in my boxers because he was wearing a garter.
"O-okay, Gerard, it's time I asked you; what the fuck?", I spluttered, sitting up and pausing the movie.
Gerard batted his eyelashes at me innocently. "What?"
"Why are you dressed like that?", I squeaked, as he climbed up onto my bed with a smirk.
"Why not?", he purred. He straddled me and I couldn't move. I squirmed a little bit under his weight.
"When did you spontaneously inherit the slut gene?", I asked somewhat breathlessly. I stared at his thick thighs squeezing my waist. That fucking garter.
"I'm not a slut.", he stated, chortling in amusement and just barely licking my right ear. I whimpered.
"Oh yes you are.", I said more boldly.
Gerard sat up and shrugged, licking his lips and folding his arms. It was beginning to get awkward. Gerard was being
Gerard again, not the wanton whore he's dressed like the past few days.
I was suddenly more aware that this was Gerard's ass pressing down on my crotch, Gerard's saliva in my ear, and Gerard's fucking weight sort of crushing my stomach.
"You obviously don't know the definition of 'slut', Frank. I don't sleep around with random people and--"
"Oh, shut up.", I said tiredly, yanking him forward and kissing him. He made a muffled sound of surprise at our initial collision, but after a moment he was practically climbing up my body and wrapping around me, sucking on my lip.
He was good at this.
I pushed Gerard back causing his back to hit the mattress. We bounced a little when I came down ontop of him and he exhaled sharply.
"Ouch, that was my ribs, you cockmunch.", he barked, sticking his nose up.
"Don't dress like a skank and I won't accidently elbow you while I'm making out with you.", I countered, leaning down to suck on his neck. Gerard moaned and rolled his body up, and I placed a hand on his side, just holding him. It made things kind of less awkward, being able to joke around even though we were kissing.
Then I felt Gerard's leg hook around my waist and I grinded down on him without even thinking. I witnessed his whole body shudder and he gasped.
"God, you should take your pants off and do th-that
again.", he mumbled. His eyes were closed just slightly and his lips were parted.
I sat up a little and cocked an eyebrow. I did it anyway, though.
In another minute, I was pantsless and Gerard was still breathing heavily and staring at me, his thighs spread more than they were before. I whimpered too low in my throat for him to hear.
I slipped my fingers under the fabric of Gerard's top and pulled it over his head, then followed suit by taking my shirt off and kissing him.
"You have a condom?", I asked, trying to sound casual.
Gerard closed his legs and tried to straighten up and act like he wasn't leaking on the front of his stupid girl underwear.
"Who invited you!?"
I rolled my eyes, "You did. All week.", I retorted, putting both hands on his knees and separating them again. He left a sour look on his face until I pulled his panties down.
While I kicked my own boxers down, Gerard fished around in my bag next to the bed.
"Where's you lube? Tell me you have it."
"Yeah, front pocket.", I directed. He tossed me the bottle and I slicked myself up pretty well, more than usual, because well
I didn't know what to expect.
Gerard laid back with a sigh and I raised my eyebrows, lifting his leg onto my shoulder and pulling his cheeks apart a little. I started poking one finger into him and I saw his dick twitch. I smirked in satisfaction and spread him with two fingers.
", Gerard muttered.
"You're okay, right?", I muttered, not wanting things to get awkward because I'd hurt Gerard.
Gerard nodded, "Yeah, fine. It's jus' been a while." I nodded in understanding and slowly went to add in a third digit. I saw Gerard's face twist a little in pain, but I pressed in deeper and he gasped.
", he breathed, pushing his hips down. I silently praised the gods above. I was throbbing for this.
I moved up and kissed him again, and then he flipped around so he was tummy-down. I knelt behind him and slid myself in, moaning when his tight entrance squeezed my head.
He omitted a slew of profanity.
"Okay?", I asked, leaning over him and panting as I moved his hair behind his ear.
He pressed his cheek down against the pillow and moaned, "Yeah, Frank, just fucking move."
I pulled my hips back and thrust forward, and that first drag was fucking electric. Skin against skin, squeezing me. My head rolled to the side and Gerard whined below me.
I picked up a leisurely kind of pattern at first, pulling out almost all the way and then pushing back in. I liked to watch the way his tiny ring of muscles contracted around me.
But Gerard's knees were shaking because he couldn't hold himself up much longer. I tried hurrying my pace, but apparently, judging by his constant, loud, moaning, Gerard liked that a lot and
", he whined. I picked up his leg again and rolled him over to his back, letting his calf rest up on my shoulder. Now I could really see his blissed-out face.
I pushed myself back inside of him and bit my lip, slamming forward, kind of aiming, hoping to hit
"Holy fuck! Right fucking there, again
", Gerard shouted, balling up handfuIls of the bedsheets in his fists and panting. I smirked somewhat, but concentrated, and rocked my hips in angled right to his sweet spot.
After a few times of that, Gerard had his head thrown back. The room was spinning even for me, and I knew I was getting close.
", I said a few times, breath hitching.
Gerard whimpered and came, hot and sticky right over his own fist and that really set me off. His muscles tightening around me, and was over the edge, too, and I felt like I just rode a fucking loopedy-loop roller coaster five times in a row.
"Jesus fucking Christ
", I exhaled, pulling and falling out of Gerard and collapsing down beside him.
We both stared at the ceiling and caught out breath, and Gerard accidently rolled over on the remote controller, so the movie started playing again just as a girl decided to scream and scare the living daylights out of us. We laughed though and I looked at him.
"Seriously, what was up with the costumes, though?"
Gerard made a face at me. "They weren't costumes, you dork. It was lingerie. I found your fucking spank bank, loser."
I was confused. Because, "What are you talking about?"
"Ya know that like six month old Victoria Secret catalog you have stuffed under your pillow? Yeah that.", Gerard scoffed, beginning to laugh.
I was still perplexed. And embarrassed. So what he found my happy mag? What'd that have to do with anything?
"Yeah, so? You act like your brother doesn't jerk it to Costume Express."
"Ew, don't even start with that. I was looking through it, picked out the pages with spots on them, and ordered whatever the model was wearing. I thought it'd be funny, actually. I wasn't even trying to get in your pants at first. But you, being a dumbass, didn't catch on."
So that was why the stupid girl pajamas looked so familiar! Gerard ordered the outfits the chicks wore in my magazine. He just wanted to tease me!
What a fucker!
"Wow. All that for some stupid prank.", I scoffed, "Jeez."
Gerard laughed and asked, "Hey Frank, like my pajamas?"