It is a beautiful spring day in New York City. The birds are chirping, the New Yorkers are smiling as they pass the hookers selling their "wares" and the trembling tourists from Ohio getting mugged in a dark ally. All is normal in the great city of New York. An untrained eye would never suspect that something is amiss.

Suddenly, the wail of sirens and the screams of a large-scale riot interrupt the serene city. The incredible sound brings attention to the popular tourist spot, Central Park. However, the beautiful park is no longer a sight of strolling pedestrians and men in business suits eating their lunch. Instead, the park is crawling with teenaged girls wearing tube-tops and platform shoes, and security guards watching in disbelief as the two teen mega-star groups known as the Backstreet Boys and *N Sync are being ushered into police cars.

And this is how our story begins…

Jive Record’s publicists were glowing as they announced their new merger. Since the Backstreet Boys and *N Sync were such good friends, they had decided to share. Share publicists, marketing teams, managers, writers, producers, and now…even record labels. (Aww…isn’t that sweet? They know how to share!) *N Sync had just signed on to Jive Records and agreed to do a charity concert in Central Park with their good friends, the Backstreet Boys. All ten of the boyband members wanted to show the world their love and brotherhood for each other, and show the world how *N Touch they were and how they wanted to give back to the Backstreets of New York City. The concert would benefit the preservation of the speckled blue-billed duck of Indonesia, and go toward helping promote world peace by spreading the joy and happiness inherent to all boyband fans.

Behind stage, the frantic activity was at it’s height. *N Sync had asked the Backstreet Boys to join their tradition of hackeysacking and prayer before the concert.

Justin slapped Brian on the back, saying "Great job, Brian! Keep up the good work, buddy!"

Brian grinned, then said, "What could be better than spending quality time together and doing a concert for the greater good of the speckled blue-billed duck of Indonesia. I love you man!"

Justin looked confused. "What’s this about a duck? Whatcha be talking about, homey?" Then he shrugged and turned to his bodyguard, mumbling. "Are you sure she can’t get through? All of security is aware of the situation?"

The lights flashed, indicating that the show was about to begin. Joey kissed the two girls on each arm, then wrapped up his conversation. "Ciao, baby. We’ll talk. Say hi to Uncle Guido for me."

Chris petted Busta, who was being watched by his secretary/number one fan. "Bye-bye, schnookums! I’ll be back in a wittle wit and bring you a bone. You’d like that, won’t ya? That’s right! Daddy’s good to his wittle boy! No rough-housing with Tyke tonight, ok?"

Meanwhile, Brian was snuggling with Tyke. "Bye-bye, schnookums! I’ll be back in a wittle wit and bring you a bone. You’d like that, won’t ya? That’s right! Daddy’s good to his wittle boy! No rough-housing with Busta tonight, ok?"

Then both groups ran onstage to take their places. The lights came up, the crowd roared, and the show began. Halfway through, as the group sang "So Happy Together", clamity struck.

Bzzzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzzz. A yellow jacket (all the way from Georgia Tech) spotted the lilac nest and scented the fragrant nectar of Nectress hairspray. He decided to go in for a better look, dive-bombing straight into A.J. McLean’s head full of purple spikes. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" A.J. broke the song, running around the stage wildly, swatting at the yellow jacket. The yellow jacket got confused and flew down the front of his wifebeater. Both groups stopped singing and turned to stare at A.J.’s wild antics, then watched in horror as his baggy jeans fell to his ankles, revealing his hot pink *N Sync boxer shorts. The crowd of teenyboppers gasped, then cheered as the half naked A.J. McLean ran around the stage.

The crowd quieted, then watched in silence upon hearing the screams "RAPIST! Get that man!" A woman marched onstage, followed by some of New York’s finest. The silence of the crowd was eerie as they watched the scene unfold.

"Statutory rape! I swear! Arrest that man!" The woman shouted as she drug the ponytail of the infamous pink-powder-puff Britney Spears onstage in all her Catholic school-girl glory (you know, the usual Catholic school uniform—short pleated skirt, black sports bra, and thigh highs. Didn’t you wear that to Catholic school? Or at least Sunday school?). Ms. Spears’ guardian pointed to Justin Timberlake, screaming "PEDOPHILE!" Justin stopped, and turned in terror, then started to run. He tried to hide behind his good buddy Brian, but Brian was too short. The policeman saw him anyway.

Yipyipyipyipyipyip. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Arghfarghfarghfarghf! Ruffruffruffruff. Busta and Tyke broke onto the scene, playfully frolicking and wrestling, with the secretary following closely behind. "Stop! Please don’t fire me, Mr. Kirkpatrick! I LOVE YOU! I’ll get them back, I swear!"

"I thought ya said ya wasn’t pregnant, hoe! Ain’t no bun of mine goin’ be in that skanky oven!" Justin screamed as he ran laps around the stage trying to avoid the police officers. Britney followed Justin with her eyes as he ran, calling out "Oh ba-be, ba-be. How was I supposed to know?" At that time, Justin was running across the front of the stage, when Britney spotted the huge crowd. She looked around with a confused expression on her face, the walked to center stage, turned to the crowd and broke out into the lip-synching version of her song and the popular dance.

One of the policemen chasing Justin charged through the playful fighting of Busta and Tyke. Yiiiiiiiiiiiiippppppppppppppeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! The policeman had accidentally stepped on Tyke’s paw. Enraged, Tyke turned and sank his sharp fangs into the police officer’s leg. Busta, meanwhile, attempted to get revenge for his little buddy by peeing on the officer’s other leg.

A deep Southern drawl is heard. "Get ya damn hands off my dawg, y’all! Don’t worry, schnookums! Daddy’ll save ya!" Brian raced across the stage to save his baby.

"Yeah! What he said!" As Chris followed closely behind. Brian jumped on the back of the police officer, and started pounding him on the head. Chris started slapping him across the face. "How dare you touch my beloved dog!"

The other policeman chasing Justin finally caught him when he got trapped between the drum set and the keyboards. As he was attempting to handcuff Justin, SMACK! The police officer was stunned as he was repeatedly beaten over the head with a microphone.

"Let my buddy go! You can’t take him! He’s the whole reason why I get paid! My management company isn’t profitable yet! You have to wait at least another six months, damnit!" Lance gasped, and stopped his assault. "I’m sorry, sir. I do apologize for cursing in front of you. That wasn’t very gentlemanly of me. I do hope you understand. It’s cause I’m from Mississippi." Following this apology, Lance returned to beating the officer with the microphone.

Then a man, wearing a trench coat and hat, walked onto the stage and over to Sweet D. "Excuse me, sir. Would you be Mr. Howard Dwaine Dorough?"

Howie looked at the man and nodded. "Yes, I’m Howie. Can help you sir? Would you like an autograph?"

"Oh, that would make my little princess sooooo happy! But we’ll have to take care of that in a moment. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to come with me."

"What’s the problem, sir?"

"A Mrs. Dorough has filed a missing persons report on you. It seems her son, which you are, has been missing for…" The man checked his watch, " approximately twenty-seven hours and thirty-three minutes. She’s beside herself with fear that something terrible has happened to you. Don’t you know to call you’re mother, boy?"

Howie looked horrified. "Mommy! I’m so sorry! Please don’t ground me!" He took his cell phone out of his pocket, pressed the number one button, which was programmed to call his mother. "Mommy? I’m so sorry! It’s…it’s…Mom…I’m…Mom…ok, you’re right…I’m really sorry…ok…I won’t let it happen again…am I grounded?"

Nick strutted over to the police officer and Howie. "Excuse me. Is there a problem here? You are disturbing my concert. Do you know who I am?"

The man looked Nick up and down. "Wait a minute….are you that…that, uh…teen pop star? Oh, yeah! My daughter loves you! Can I get your autograph, Justin?"

Nick turned red in rage. "I am NOT Justin Timberlake. I AM THE BACKSTREET BOYS! Howie helps me out sometimes, and I DO NOT appreciate you distracting him in the middle of my show. Get off my stage, Mr. Trenchcoat! I have ordered, now GO!"

The man’s eyes narrowed. "What did you say to me? I know you didn’t just mouth off to an officer of the peace. I could have you arrested for that."

"STOP!"

Britney, again looking confused, once again broke into song.

"FREEZE! FBI!" The FBI SWAT Team swarmed onto the left side of the stage, guns drawn. Silence reined throughout the park, until… "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" A.J. stumbled across the stage, trying to pull his pants up and still swatting at the yellow jacket.

Joey looked around frantically for some place to hide. He panicked and tried to jump off stage, but thought the better of it when spotting the "Joey Can I Have Your Baby?" sign in the front row. An FBI agent grabbed Joey, cuffed him and read him his Miranda rights.

Meanwhile, the head FBI agent radioed headquarters, stating "Yeah, boss. We’ve got him. The godfather of the Fatone family mob, notorious for their international prostitution ring. We’ll bring him in. Over and out."

Through all of the commotion, J.C. had continued singing (after all, the show must go on, right J.C.?). He was almost to the end of his set, when he began "Tearin’ Up My Heart". He was so involved in the intricate choreography that he didn’t see the FBI agent coming up on his right. WAM! BAM! POW! J.C. had punched the FBI agent out cold with his flailing arms during his spastic dancing.

Kevin had turned his back on the audience, and was backing away from the commotion on the stage, saying "Calm down, everyone. We’ll handle this in an orderly fashion. Please do not panic." Unfortunately for Kevin, he backed up too far and fell right into the arms of the awaiting teenybopper wearing the "Kisses For Kevin" button. Kevin knew he was in trouble then. The teenybopper leaned in and went straight for his tonsils. Meanwhile, the other fans began ripping off his clothes, as he tried to fight them off. He finally broke loose, but not before loosing all but his underwear. His naked form dashed through the crowd and could be seen running off toward the sunset wearing only his whitie-tighties with the *N Sync flame on the ass.

The next day, Big Poppa Pearlman bailed everyone out of jail and took them home to the Trans-Con Compound. The Jive representatives were ecstatic. "Guys! Did you see the papers today! You’ve each sold another ten million albums. Now, let’s see what we’re dealing with here. A.J., you were arrested for indecent exposure. Brian and Chris, you were charged with assaulting a police officer, and you’re dogs have been taken to the pound. (Chris and Brian both sniffle). Justin, you were charged with statutory rape. We’ll work out the visitation rights later. Lance, they got you for battery. By the way, the officer said that he accepts your apology. Howie, don’t forget to call your mom. She said you’ve lost your driving privileges for the next two weeks. Nick, you are NOT the Backstreet Boys. You’ll have to do community service for harassing a police officer. Joey is in the federal prison awaiting trial for his possible mob connections and running a prostitution ring. J.C., you’ve got to be more careful! That police officer charged you with battery, and is still in the hospital recovering. Kevin, we can’t find your clothes, but Playgirl has contacted us about you posing for a centerfold. Are you interested? Oh, and also the Foundation For The Preservation Of The Speckled Blue-Billed Duck Of Indonesia (FFTPOTSBBDOI for short) has sent us a thank you note for the enormous amount of funds you raised. They also sent a speckled blue-billed duck from Indonesia as a gift. They said to enjoy it.