The Stick

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We're in a house. In one room, there is a Christmas tree being set up by none other than Joey Fatone. In another room, a theme is none other than preparing the room for the Fourth of July. Group members are scattered throughout. Lance is running around with something in his hand.

"Hey, Justin, look at my stick!"

Lance pouted. "Busy with WHAT? Talking to Britney? Yeesh you'd think you two were dating or something. Ugh."

"Man, we ARE dating," Justin said, rolling his eyes and going back to his phone conversation.

"Could've fooled me."

You mean you finally admit it so the poor girl can stop looking like an idiot every time she opens her mouth?

Justin put a hand over the phone. "Who said that?"

"SHUT UP! No, no, not you Brit...uh uh--"

"Justin, you DO know you're talking to yourself, right?" Chris asked, coming into the room.

"No I'm NOT! NO! I didn't mean YOU, Britney! No, I'm not mad, I...ugh the guys need to just leave me alone...Hey, Chris, watch out for Lance and his stick..." Justin walked into the closet and locked the door behind him.

Yup. Best place to have a private conversation. Just ahead of the bathroom...though maybe I should've told him not to shut the door? Oh well, he'll figure it out.

"Hey, are you the one Justin was talking to?"

No, Chris, my name's not Britney.

"No, I mean the one where it looked like he was talking to himself. And what IS your name?"

Oh, probably. And I ain't gonna tell you, that's a secret. EVERYONE would wanna know it if I told you. So nope.

Chris rolled his eyes and left the room. "Bitch," he muttered.

ExCUSE me? I HEARD that, Christopher. You don't want me on your bad side, I could SO hurt you.

"You heard that? HOW?"

I'm the Narrator. I know everything, hear everything and see--

Glad you think so highly of me. Tie your shoe or you'll fall on your ass. Then I'll laugh at you.

"Only the highest." Chris bent down to tie his shoe.

Of course. Oh, watch out, here comes Lance and his stick.

Lance suddenly ran by, looking for JC. "Hey, Chris, have you see JC? I wanna show him my stick."

"Your WHAT? No, I haven't. Maybe he's in his hole working on music. Or something."

Don't knock the music.

"Who are you?" Lance asked, looking around.

That depends. I can be your friend or your enemy. Be nice and I'm your friend.

"Oh, in that case, Hi, my name's Lance, what's yours?"

"Oh, um, well, then, nice to meet you anyway. If you'll excuse me, I have to find my boyfriend. He seems to have gone missing. Any idea where he went?"

Oh, you're polite. I like you. I think he's in the attic. Yeah, that's where he is. Definitely.

"Be careful, she could be lying," Chris warned.

Didn't I just say I liked him? If I DIDN'T like him, then I'd have a reason to lie. Jackass.

"Chris, that's mean," Lance objected.

"Stay out of it, Mississippi," Chris snapped.

See, I told you I liked him. He's in the attic, Lance, go show him your...um...stick.

"Okay!" Lance said happily.

Chris rolled his eyes, but then finally finished tying his shoe and looked up. "It's about time you let me finish...I've tied that thing twelve times. Hey, wait! That's not a stick, that's a--"

You can't spoil it!

"What, by telling them Lance's 'stick' is really--"

Yes, by telling them THAT. It's a surprise. Have to build up to it.

"JAAAAAYCEEEEEEEEE! WHERE ARE YOU?" Lance walked through the house, looking for JC. "JAYCEEEE!" He stopped. "Oh, maybe he's in here!"

No, Lance, don't--

"NOW WHY THE HELL ARE THEY BLINKING?!"

"Um, Joey?" Lance asked timidly. "What are you doing?"

"What does it LOOK like I'm doing?" Joey asked, trying not to fall off the ladder he was on. "I'm trying to rig up these frigging lights."

Chris meandered in. "Hey, uh, Joey, did you do the Fourth of July thing in the other room?"

"Cause it's December."

Maybe he wanted to get ahead.

"Exactly. You put it off for too long, and then...DAMMIT! One light goes out and they ALL go out!"

"Look, the Bitch is back in town."

"Watch it," Lance warned.

"Who's that?" Joey asked.

"The Narrator," Chris sneered. "She knows all and hears all."

You missed sees all.

"My deepest apologies."

Apology accepted, though NEXT time you insult me, I want a real one.

"Real what, insult?" Chris snorted.

"I'll keep that in mind," Chris said. "Psychotic Bitch."

Lance, let's go find JC. I'll make sure you do.

"Okay," Lance said, prancing away.

YES, he PRANCED. Do you have a problem with that, CHRISTOPHER?

"Good job, you made her go away! I need her help..." Joey muttered. "Stupid lights. Hey, was Lance carrying a--"

"Shh...don't tell. It's supposed to be a surprise."

"Oh. What's her name, anyway? I'd like to put a name to a...voice so I don't just keep saying 'The Narrator' all the time."

"Um...okay...GOD these STUPID LIGHTS! Christmas SUCKS!"

Chris giggled. "Haha. Man, don't do 'em like that, you gotta--"

Joey jumped off the ladder and threw the knot of brightly colored and still blinking lights at Chris. "Fine. You're so smart, YOU rig up the lights!"

"JAAAAAYCEEEEEE! BAAAAAAAAAYBEEEEE! WHERE ARRRRRRRE YOU?"

Not so LOUD, please. I have ears too.

No problem. Hey, where are you going?

"JC is there, isn't he?" Lance asked, obviously confused.

No, he's in the attic. Upstairs and watch where you point that...stick. You could hurt someone with it.

"Oh, okay, sorry. But don't YOU like my stick?" Lance asked, brightening up considerably.

Of course, it's a very nice stick. Just don't put it near your head, okay? You might...er...poke someone with it. Where did you find it, anyway?

"Outside," Lance said happily.

I won't even bother pointing out the fact that there AREN'T any woods outside. Hey, Lance?

I'm gonna go check and see if Justin's found his way out of the closet. Hear him yelling?

"You mean he's gay too?" Lance asked, eyes wide. "That's THREE!"

No, not THAT kind of closet. He's on the phone with Britney, remember? He's dating her? That means he's straight?

"Oh. Well, have fun."

I will. Bye sweetie.

"Sweetie?...hmmm...oh well...JC..." Lance knocked on the door. "Wonder how I did that without the Narrator. Eh well. JC? You in there baby? Jaaaay--Oh, JC! I've been looking for you all over the place!" He saw JC writing furiously in a notebook. "Whatcha doin' up here?" Lance asked, sitting next to him. "I've been lookin' everywhere." He kissed JC on the cheek and rested his chin on the older man's shoulder. "JC?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I...needed some quiet. What'd you need, babe?"

Lance, I'm not a Psychotic Bitch, am I?

Thanks. I'll be back. You two kids enjoy yourselves, but PLEASE try not to gross me out.

Lance giggled. "Never."

"Who's that?" JC asked, eyes wide.

"The Narrator. She's really nice, but I don't think Chris likes her very much. Or maybe he DOES like her, but he's pretending he doesn't so she doesn't figure it out. Or maybe--" Lance was silenced by JC's lips. "Hehe. Thank you Jace."

"You're welcome. Now shush up for a sec...hey wait...is that a--"

"It's my stick!" Lance said proudly.

"SOMEONE LET ME OUT OF THIS DAMN CLOSET!"

"Justin's locked in the closet," Lance informed JC.

"What, is he gay too?"

"No, duh, he's dating Britney, remember? Though-- never mind. But don't you like my stick?"

"It's beautiful...but let me put it into the light so I can see it better--"

"Kay, I'll do it," Lance said, bounding over under the light. "Seeeeeee? Isn't it pretty? I found it in the woods!"

"Oh. THE woods. That explains it--" JC stopped and his eyes widened.

"YOU STUPID NARRATOR, LET ME THE HELL OUT!"

NOT A CHANCE IN HELL!

"Damn, they're loud," Lance commented. "Anyway, what were you saying?"

"GODDAMN THESE LIGHTS! CHRIS, STOP BEING SUCH A JACKASS!"

"IT'S NOT ME! IT'S THAT PSYCHOTIC BITCH!"

NO! YOU'RE THE JACKASS!

"This is certainly interesting," JC said. Then he remembered something.

"Lance, that's not a stick."

"It's not?" Lance asked sadly.

"No, it's not," JC said, standing up and trying to get it away. Lance tugged it back, holding it firmly in his grasp.

Lance, let go of it-- CHRIS! LEAVE JUSTIN ALONE! JC, get it out of his hands so I can END this thing before I go CRAZY!

"Um, yeah...Lance, please--"

"NO!" Lance said stubbornly. "I found it, it's MINE! Finder's keeper's, loser's weeper's. Or something."

"That's childish. Give it to me!"

"It's MY stick! Find your OWN!"

Lance pulled it away and held it horizontally. "YES IT IS! AND IT'S MINE!"

"Lance, NO! Put the--"

"You can't make me!"

"I won't kiss you ever again."

"No I won't! Lance, PUT IT DOWN!"

"YES! LANCE, PUT THE GUN DOWN!"

Lance threw it on the floor. "It's a GUN?"

"Sorry," he said quietly.

"That's okay. Now come here and let me kiss you."

"No more picking up sticks you find, okay?"

"Okay," Lance mumbled against JC's lips. "But there was this little green rock out there, with a ring on top. It looked like you could pull it off...can I show you it sometime?"


	Inner Reflection \| home back to More back \| Somewhere They Can't Find Me \| The Eyes of the Cat \| The Purest of Pain \| The Stick \| Yesterday's Letter \| When Love Hurts The Stick We're in a house. In one room, there is a Christmas tree being set up by none other than Joey Fatone. In another room, a theme is none other than preparing the room for the Fourth of July. Group members are scattered throughout. Lance is running around with something in his hand. "Hey, Justin, look at my stick!" "Not now, Lance." "Why not?" "Cause I'm BUSY!" Lance pouted. "Busy with WHAT? Talking to Britney? Yeesh you'd think you two were dating or something. Ugh." "Man, we ARE dating," Justin said, rolling his eyes and going back to his phone conversation. "Could've fooled me." You mean you finally admit it so the poor girl can stop looking like an idiot every time she opens her mouth? Justin put a hand over the phone. "Who said that?" Said what? "THAT!" Hmmm? "SHUT UP! No, no, not you Brit...uh uh--" "Justin, you DO know you're talking to yourself, right?" Chris asked, coming into the room. "No I'm NOT! NO! I didn't mean YOU, Britney! No, I'm not mad, I...ugh the guys need to just leave me alone...Hey, Chris, watch out for Lance and his stick..." Justin walked into the closet and locked the door behind him. "The closet?" Yup. Best place to have a private conversation. Just ahead of the bathroom...though maybe I should've told him not to shut the door? Oh well, he'll figure it out. "Hey, are you the one Justin was talking to?" No, Chris, my name's not Britney. "No, I mean the one where it looked like he was talking to himself. And what IS your name?" Oh, probably. And I ain't gonna tell you, that's a secret. EVERYONE would wanna know it if I told you. So nope. Chris rolled his eyes and left the room. "Bitch," he muttered. ExCUSE me? I HEARD that, Christopher. You don't want me on your bad side, I could SO hurt you. "You heard that? HOW?" I'm the Narrator. I know everything, hear everything and see-- "Shut up." Jackass. "Psychotic Bitch." Glad you think so highly of me. Tie your shoe or you'll fall on your ass. Then I'll laugh at you. "Only the highest." Chris bent down to tie his shoe. Of course. Oh, watch out, here comes Lance and his stick. "His WHAT?" Lance suddenly ran by, looking for JC. "Hey, Chris, have you see JC? I wanna show him my stick." "Your WHAT? No, I haven't. Maybe he's in his hole working on music. Or something." Don't knock the music. "Sorry." "Who are you?" Lance asked, looking around. That depends. I can be your friend or your enemy. Be nice and I'm your friend. "Oh, in that case, Hi, my name's Lance, what's yours?" I ain't tellin. "Oh, um, well, then, nice to meet you anyway. If you'll excuse me, I have to find my boyfriend. He seems to have gone missing. Any idea where he went?" Oh, you're polite. I like you. I think he's in the attic. Yeah, that's where he is. Definitely. "Be careful, she could be lying," Chris warned. Didn't I just say I liked him? If I DIDN'T like him, then I'd have a reason to lie. Jackass. "Psychotic Bitch." "Chris, that's mean," Lance objected. "Stay out of it, Mississippi," Chris snapped. See, I told you I liked him. He's in the attic, Lance, go show him your...um...stick. "Okay!" Lance said happily. Chris rolled his eyes, but then finally finished tying his shoe and looked up. "It's about time you let me finish...I've tied that thing twelve times. Hey, wait! That's not a stick, that's a--" SHHHH! "What?" You can't spoil it! "What, by telling them Lance's 'stick' is really--" Yes, by telling them THAT. It's a surprise. Have to build up to it. "Psychotic Bitch." Jackass. * "JAAAAAYCEEEEEEEEE! WHERE ARE YOU?" Lance walked through the house, looking for JC. "JAYCEEEE!" He stopped. "Oh, maybe he's in here!" No, Lance, don't-- "NOW WHY THE HELL ARE THEY BLINKING?!" Oh man. "Um, Joey?" Lance asked timidly. "What are you doing?" "What does it LOOK like I'm doing?" Joey asked, trying not to fall off the ladder he was on. "I'm trying to rig up these frigging lights." Chris meandered in. "Hey, uh, Joey, did you do the Fourth of July thing in the other room?" "Yeah, why?" "Cause it's December." Maybe he wanted to get ahead. "Exactly. You put it off for too long, and then...DAMMIT! One light goes out and they ALL go out!" Hehe. "Look, the Bitch is back in town." "Watch it," Lance warned. Thank you, Lance. "Who's that?" Joey asked. "The Narrator," Chris sneered. "She knows all and hears all." You missed sees all. "My deepest apologies." Apology accepted, though NEXT time you insult me, I want a real one. "Real what, insult?" Chris snorted. Apology, Jackass. "I'll keep that in mind," Chris said. "Psychotic Bitch." Lance, let's go find JC. I'll make sure you do. "Okay," Lance said, prancing away. "PRANCING?!" YES, he PRANCED. Do you have a problem with that, CHRISTOPHER? "No." "Good job, you made her go away! I need her help..." Joey muttered. "Stupid lights. Hey, was Lance carrying a--" "Shh...don't tell. It's supposed to be a surprise." "Says who?" "The Narrator." "Oh. What's her name, anyway? I'd like to put a name to a...voice so I don't just keep saying 'The Narrator' all the time." "She won't tell." "Um...okay...GOD these STUPID LIGHTS! Christmas SUCKS!" Chris giggled. "Haha. Man, don't do 'em like that, you gotta--" Joey jumped off the ladder and threw the knot of brightly colored and still blinking lights at Chris. "Fine. You're so smart, YOU rig up the lights!" * "JAAAAAYCEEEEEE! BAAAAAAAAAYBEEEEE! WHERE ARRRRRRRE YOU?" Not so LOUD, please. I have ears too. "Oh, sorry." No problem. Hey, where are you going? "The basement." Why? "JC is there, isn't he?" Lance asked, obviously confused. No, he's in the attic. Upstairs and watch where you point that...stick. You could hurt someone with it. "Oh, okay, sorry. But don't YOU like my stick?" Lance asked, brightening up considerably. Of course, it's a very nice stick. Just don't put it near your head, okay? You might...er...poke someone with it. Where did you find it, anyway? "Outside," Lance said happily. Where outside? "The woods." I won't even bother pointing out the fact that there AREN'T any woods outside. Hey, Lance? "What?" I'm gonna go check and see if Justin's found his way out of the closet. Hear him yelling? "You mean he's gay too?" Lance asked, eyes wide. "That's THREE!" No, not THAT kind of closet. He's on the phone with Britney, remember? He's dating her? That means he's straight? "Oh. Well, have fun." I will. Bye sweetie. "Sweetie?...hmmm...oh well...JC..." Lance knocked on the door. "Wonder how I did that without the Narrator. Eh well. JC? You in there baby? Jaaaay--Oh, JC! I've been looking for you all over the place!" He saw JC writing furiously in a notebook. "Whatcha doin' up here?" Lance asked, sitting next to him. "I've been lookin' everywhere." He kissed JC on the cheek and rested his chin on the older man's shoulder. "JC?" "Hmm? Oh, yeah, I...needed some quiet. What'd you need, babe?" Lance, I'm not a Psychotic Bitch, am I? "Of course not." Thanks. I'll be back. You two kids enjoy yourselves, but PLEASE try not to gross me out. Lance giggled. "Never." "Who's that?" JC asked, eyes wide. "The Narrator. She's really nice, but I don't think Chris likes her very much. Or maybe he DOES like her, but he's pretending he doesn't so she doesn't figure it out. Or maybe--" Lance was silenced by JC's lips. "Hehe. Thank you Jace." "You're welcome. Now shush up for a sec...hey wait...is that a--" "It's my stick!" Lance said proudly. "SOMEONE LET ME OUT OF THIS DAMN CLOSET!" Hehehehehe. "Justin's locked in the closet," Lance informed JC. "What, is he gay too?" "No, duh, he's dating Britney, remember? Though-- never mind. But don't you like my stick?" "It's beautiful...but let me put it into the light so I can see it better--" "Kay, I'll do it," Lance said, bounding over under the light. "Seeeeeee? Isn't it pretty? I found it in the woods!" "What woods?" "THE woods!" "Oh. THE woods. That explains it--" JC stopped and his eyes widened. "YOU STUPID NARRATOR, LET ME THE HELL OUT!" NOT A CHANCE IN HELL! "Damn, they're loud," Lance commented. "Anyway, what were you saying?" "GODDAMN THESE LIGHTS! CHRIS, STOP BEING SUCH A JACKASS!" "IT'S NOT ME! IT'S THAT PSYCHOTIC BITCH!" NO! YOU'RE THE JACKASS! "This is certainly interesting," JC said. Then he remembered something. "Lance, that's not a stick." "It's not?" Lance asked sadly. "No, it's not," JC said, standing up and trying to get it away. Lance tugged it back, holding it firmly in his grasp. "Yes it IS!" Lance, let go of it-- CHRIS! LEAVE JUSTIN ALONE! JC, get it out of his hands so I can END this thing before I go CRAZY! "Um, yeah...Lance, please--" "NO!" Lance said stubbornly. "I found it, it's MINE! Finder's keeper's, loser's weeper's. Or something." "That's childish. Give it to me!" "It's MY stick! Find your OWN!" "It's NOT a stick!" "Yes it IS!" "No it's NOT!" "YES!" "NO!" Lance pulled it away and held it horizontally. "YES IT IS! AND IT'S MINE!" "Lance, NO! Put the--" "You can't make me!" "I won't kiss you ever again." "Yes you will!" "No I won't! Lance, PUT IT DOWN!" "NO!" "YES! LANCE, PUT THE GUN DOWN!" Lance threw it on the floor. "It's a GUN?" "YES!" "Sorry," he said quietly. "That's okay. Now come here and let me kiss you." "Okay." "No more picking up sticks you find, okay?" "Okay," Lance mumbled against JC's lips. "But there was this little green rock out there, with a ring on top. It looked like you could pull it off...can I show you it sometime?" back to More