"Whoa, love, what's the matter?" Trowa said in surprise, patting his smaller boyfriend reassuringly.
"I'm sorry to bring you guys out here, but this is serious!" Quatre said, his voice shaking slightly. "You see, Duo-..."
He was interrupted by a loud prolonged groan from the other three pilots.
"He got into the Mad Dog 20/20 again, didn't he," Heero said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt a killer headache about to be born. Much nodding from Quatre.
"And I suppose we'll have to go in there and get him out, right?" Wufei put in, looking rather perturbed. More nodding. "Lovely."
===
(Inside)
"And the Lord spoke saying, 'First, shalt thou take out the holy pin. Then shalt thou count to three, no more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thy foe, who, being naughty in my sight, shall snuff it.'" Duo giggled and downed another glass, hanging upside-down off his barstool as his friends entered the bar. He peered at them curiously, then smiled. "Yaaaaaay, braaaaiiiins!"
Much sweatdropping ensued.
Quatre spoke gently, trying not to excite the already-hyper braided American. "Duo, the guys and I think it's time for you to go home now."
Duo righted himself, stood up on the bar and pointed dramatically. "HAVE YOU THE BRAIN WORMS?!"
"Um...no...but you see..."
"Duo, you're drunk as a fuckin' skunk, it's time to leave," Heero cut in.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Heero Yuy, the Tactless Wonder," Wufei muttered under his breath. But Duo didn't seem to be listening.
"And Saint Attila raised the hand grenade up on high saying, 'O Lord, bless this thy hand grenade, that with it thou mayst blow thine enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy." He giggled and twirled in a circle, teetering precariously on the narrow bar. "Don't worry, Hee-chan, I'm not as think as you drunk I am." He smiled brightly.
"That you are," Wufei said with a roll of his dark eyes. Duo frowned and his expression turned stormy.
"YOU DARE AGREE WITH ME! PREPARE TO MEET YOUR HORRIBLE DOOM!" he hollered before leaping off the bar and tackling his Chinese friend to the floor. They tussled for a moment before Duo abruptly leaped to his feet and scuttled back to the bar to finish another shot, leaving Wufei on the floor, dazed and rumpled, but mostly unharmed.
"Listen, Duo, it's two a.m. It's time to go home and get some sleep," Quatre tried again.
"Pitiful human! Sleep is for the weak!" Duo scoffed, slamming down his glass. He got an odd gleam in his eye just then and started running in circles around a free-standing table. "YEEEHEEEE! I'M RUNNING! I'M RUNNING! WHEEEEE!"
Much sweatdropping ensued.
"You live with this young man?" the bartender inquired with a raised eyebrow as Duo began laughing maniacally. Four heads nodded.
"I'm his chaperone," Quatre added with a guilty smile.
"Oh you poor doomed child..."
Duo glomped the blonde boy and yelled, "Yay, we're doomed!" before taking off running around the room once more squealing, "SAMICH! HEHEHEHEHEHEE! SAMICH, YEEEHEHEHEHEE!" He froze suddenly and grinned in a vile and disturbing manner. "Okay, I think I've have my fill of these horrible...stink people things for today. Now, to unleash screaming temporal doom!"
"No, Duo, no doom!" Quatre said frantically. Duo blinked, then executed a flying leap back onto the bar.
"I WILL RULE YOU ALL WITH AN IRON FIST!" He pointed to a random customer and brandished a clenched fist menacingly. "You! Obey the fist!" The young lady grabbed her coat and ran.
"Duo, knock it off, it's time to go," Trowa said emphatically.
"No, you lie! YOU LIIIIIEEEEE!" Duo screeched, his arms flailing. He accidentally lost his balance and crashed to the floor. Instantly, his companions were on him with duct tape and heavy nylon rope, hog-tying the still-yelling braided boy.
"RELEASE ME!" he shrieked. "RELEASE ME OR SUFFER THE WRATH OF ZIM!"
"Zim?" Trowa said with a skeptical look. Heero shuddered.
"Don't ask. For God's sake, don't ask."
"CURSE YOOOUUUU!" Duo struggled and thrashed, trying his level best to free himself, to no avail. The other four boys were not Gundam pilots for nothing and had learned from long experience that a drunken Duo required strong rope and good solid knots. Heero hoisted the squirming boy onto his shoulders and carried him out while Quatre slipped the bartender a hefty tip to cover the damages.
"Okay, Maxwell, homeward we go. You'll feel better in the morning," Wufei commented as he helped Heero load his captive into the car. Duo got a rather funny look on his face then smiled brightly.
"Yaaay, I'm gonna be sick!" he said, then promptly threw up all over his Asian friends. Both of them Glared Black Death at the braided boy.
"Trowa," Heero said through clenched teeth. "Pop the trunk."
"I blow my nose at you, so-called Arthur King! You and all your silly English kinigits!" Duo said with a terrible accent as they tossed him into the trunk.
"Oh great, what now?"
"I'm French! Why else do you think I have this outrageous accent, you silly king!"
Heero glared and slammed the lid. From within the trunk, Duo piped up happily once more.
"I'm gonna sing the Doom Song now! Doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom doom...." The other four pilots wore identical pained expressions as they got into the car and drove away.
Their drunken cargo sang all the way home.