Written by: Stephanie (Darkcrystal)
Feedback to: padawan98@hotmail.com
CHAPTER ONE
“…’cause I want it that way,” sang AJ. That last note marked the end of the Millennium Tour. The Backstreet Boys joined hands on a risen platform in the middle of the hexagon shaped stage and took a bow. The crowd was screaming so loud, you would think the roof of the arena would be blown off! The platform was lowered beneath the stage; it was time for the after party!
CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN
The boys were led to their dressing rooms by their security. Inside, they showered and changed. When they were finished they were escorted into a room to sign autographs and meet some lucky fans. After a few signings and a few pictures, they were escorted to a van. They were driven to a banquet hall for the end of the tour party. After many hours of congratulations, music, and dancing, the party was over. The boys filed into their bus and made their way home.
“Well, fellas, I don’t know about you, but I’m beat,” Brian said with a yawn. “Nite y’all. Tell me when we get to the airport.” Brian went into the back and crawled into his bunk.
“Nite Bri,” Kevin called out.
“So guys,” Nick began, “how about some video games to top off a perfect night?” He began unwinding the cord on his Nintendo 64 controller.
“Nick, it’s like 1:00 in the morning,” said Howie.
“Yeah, and your point is?”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Nah. Besides, I’ll have plenty of time to sleep since were on vacation for two months! Yes!”
“Shh! Nick, shut up. Brian is sleeping, and I was at least trying to,” said a groggy AJ.
“Sorry man.”
“It’s okay. You’re just lucky I’m so tired. I’ll just kick your ass tomorrow,” AJ yawned and headed back to his bunk.
“Okay, so who wants to play my new basketball video game? Howie?”
“No, I’m going to bed.”
“Kev?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Fine, I’ll just play by myself,” Nick said like a whiny two-year-old.
“You go ahead and do that. I’m going to bed too,” Kevin went to his bunk, and left Nick alone with his game.
A half hour later:
“Jump! Jump! Left! Left! No, not right! Left! Work you stupid controller!” Nick yelled, complaining about his video game.
“Shut up!” Every one yelled from the back of the bus. But it didn’t even faze Nick.
“Jump! Shoot! Do something! Work you damn controller! Work! I can’t lose to the computer! Work!”
“Nick!” Brian whacked him on the backside of his head.
“What? Huh? Hey! What the big idea?!”
“Nick, would you shut up, already. Some people are trying to sleep here.”
“Oh, sorry. Just got a little caught up in my game,” Nick apologized.
“A ‘little’ caught up.” Brian emphasized on little.
“Okay, okay a lot caught up.”
“Nick, do my eyes deceive me? Or did you just lose to the computer?”
“I think it’s your eyes, Bri,” Nick tried to convince him.
“I don’t think so. Even beat you at basketball.”
“The controller’s broken.”
“Sure it is,” Brian said sarcastically. “Gee, it almost beat you as bad as I do on the court.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“I take that as a challenge, B-Rok.”
“I guess that means another one-on-one at my house.”
“Yup. Looks like I gotta stay over tomorrow night.”
“I just think that you’ve once again weaseled your way into inviting yourself overnight at my house.”
“Yup.”
“Well, it’s fine with me as long as you turn this game off, get to bed, and let me…” Brian yawned, “…sleep.”
“Okay, okay, deal,” Nick turned off his game and wound the cord around the controller. He followed Brian into the back and climbed into his top bunk. As soon as he closed his curtain, the bus came to a stop.
“We have now arrived at the airport, boys,” The bus driver made the announcement that blared through the speakers. “It’s 1:41 am and your plane is scheduled to leave at 2:00.” Tire moans could be heard from the back of the bus. “Lets move it boys.”
The seemingly sleepwalking Backstreet Boys scrambled out of their beds. They gathered their things and packed some last minute stuff away.
The boys flew for six hours, but they didn’t seem to notice. They all slept the whole way.
“Bye B-Rok! Bye Kaos!” yelled AJ.
“Adios guys!” shouted Howie.
“Bye Nick! Bye Bri!” yelled Kevin. Brian and Nick were dropped off at Brian’s house. The others were screaming their goodbyes from the van.
“Well,” said Nick with a basketball twirling on his finger, “ready to get your butt kic…Hey!” Brian grabbed the spinning basketball off of Nick’s finger. “Give that back!”
“What ever you say, Nickers,” Brian hurled the ball into Nick’s stomach.
“Oof,” Nick squealed, “You’ll be sorry you did that! And don’t call me Nickers!”
“Nickers!” Brian challenged.
“Stop that!”
“Nickers!” Brian stuck his tongue out at Nick and turned around and wiggled his butt at him
“That’s it!” Nick half-yelled and half-laughed. He threw the ball at Brian. Brian quickly turned around, only to have the basketball connect with his head. He fell to the ground and was overtaken by darkness.
“Oh, sorry B-Rok, I nailed you pretty good, huh? B-Rok?” Nick knelt down beside Brian. “Come on Bri, you can stop acting now,” Nick paused and waited for Brian to get up. He didn’t move. “Brian, wake up. Come on this isn’t funny. Brian, Brian, wake up,” Nick shook Brian’s shoulders and lightly slapped him in the face to revive him. It didn’t work. “My god Brian, please wake up,” Nick grabbed his cell phone and was about to call an ambulance when Brian started to stir. “Oh, thank god he’s okay.”
Brian fluttered his eyes open, adjusting them to the light. His head was spinning; he couldn’t see straight. Finally his vision started to clear. He saw someone kneeling over him.
“W-w-what happened?” Brian finally found his voice, though it was shaky, “Where am I?”
“Shh. It’s okay Brian. Just let me bring you inside,” Nick picked Brian up and struggled with his weight to carry him into the house. He gently placed him on the couch. “There you go, Brian. I’m sorry I about that. You sure scared me back there. Your head must hurt. I’ll go get you a wet washcloth,” Nick left for the kitchen.
Brian lay on the couch and closed his eyes. His head was throbbing; his thoughts were lost and confused, searching for answers.
What happened? Where am I? Why does my head hurt so much? Who was that guy? Who’s this Brian he’s talking about? What is he sorry for? Who am I? Why can’t I remember? Why can’t I… His thoughts were interrupted by a cool wet feeling on his forehead. He opened his eyes to find that ‘guy’ there again.
“Does that feel better Bri? Boy, you sure have one huge lump on your forehead. I’m sorry, but you did check that ball in my stomach pretty hard, there buddy.”
Lump on my forehead? I musta got hit in the head. Buddy? He must know me. He must know what happened.
“Brian? Are you okay? You haven’t said anything. Brian?”
“Who’s Brian? Is that my name?”
“Very funny, B-Rok. But the memory loss bit ain’t gonna work on me.”
“B-Rok?”
“Brian, you can cut it out now.”
“Is my name B-Rok?”
“Okay, okay, I’ll play along. Your name’s Brian, remember?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember. Who are you?”
“Brian, cut this out! This is no way to act toward your best friend!”
“You’re my best friend?”
“Brian, Brian, it’s me, Nick. I know you remember, so stop playin’ around!” Nick looked straight into Brian’s eyes and saw confusion and bewilderment. It was like looking into the eyes of a lost little boy. “You really don’t remember, do you?” Brian shook his head no. “Oh, god, what did I do? What did I do?…I …I gotta call Kevin and the rest of the guys. You stay right there Bri.”
“Bri?”
“It’s one of your nicknames, so is B-Rok.”
“Oh.”
“Listen, you just rest right there. I’ll be right back. I have to go call some people.”
*Ring, ring.*
“Hello?” Kevin answered the phone.
“Who is it?” Howie asked Kevin.
“It’s Nick.”
“What does he want?”
“I can’t tell. He’s talkin’ way to fast. Nick. Nick! Slow down. I can’t understand a word you’re saying. . . . . Just start from the beginning. . . . . . . You threw the ball where?! . . . . . . .What?!. . . . . . .Does he remember anything? . . . . . .Oh god, I’ll be right over, bye.” *Click*
“What? What happened?” Howie asked curiously, “Did something bad happen?”
“I’ll tell you in the car after we pick up AJ; we have to go to Brian’s.”
“Uh…Nick? That is your name, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Who did you call?” Brian asked, when Nick came back into the living room.
“Um, some of our friends. They’re gonna come over to see if they can jog your memory.” Brian nodded.
“Nick, what happened? My head really hurts.”
“Well, you and me were playin’ basketball, and you stole you ball from me. And…”
“Do we always play basketball?” Brian interrupted.
“Yeah we always played. You’re really good at it. That’s how you got the nickname, B-Rok.”
“B-Rok?”
“Yeah, ‘cause you rock on the b-ball court.”
“Oh,”
“Well, anyway, I was yelling at you to give me the ball back. So being the funny guy that you are, you hurled the ball at my stomach, and called me my nickname I hate. I got real…”
“What’s your nickname?” Brian interrupted again.
“That’s really not important. Where was I? Oh, yeah. So I got really mad at you, and you stuck your tongue out and wiggled your butt at me. That made me laugh, but it also made me mad, and I threw the ball at you. Now, now, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to hit you in the head, but…you turned around, and…and fell to the ground. I thought you were joking when you didn’t get up, but you were knocked out. And well, you know the rest. I brought you inside, and you lost…you lost…Oh, Bri, I’m so sorry. I’m so so very sorry.”
“You better be sorry Carter!” AJ yelled as he, Howie, and Kevin stormed into the living room. “As I recall, I owe you an ass kickin’ from last night!”
“AJ, man calm down,” Howie grabbed a hold of AJ’s shoulders and sat him down in a chair.
“Nick,” Brian whispered, “who’s that?”
“That’s one of our friends I was talkin’ about. But don’t worry, he’s just angry with me ‘cause…”
“Ya damn right I’m angry with you!” AJ shouted, “First, you nail Brian in the head, and than you make up some whack story ‘bout him losin’ him memory! Just to make us worry! Nick, the jokes over, so quit lying!”
“I wish I was lying, but he did,” Nick explained.
“No, he didn’t!” AJ yelled back.
“He did.”
“He didn’t!”
“He did!”
“He didn’t!”
“He did!”
“He d…”
“Shut up, you two!” Kevin silenced them.
This red-haired, tattooed guy is my friend? Nick’s friend? Who are those other guys? Think. Think. I can’t remember. Oh, my head… Brian, once again slipped into darkness.
“Brian?” Kevin knelt down beside Brian, who was lying motionless on the couch. “Brian, wake up,” Kevin shook him lightly. “Brian? I think he’s out. Howie, go call a doctor,” Kevin removed the washcloth from Brian’s forehead, revealing a large lump.
“Nick!” AJ shouted, “I can’t believe you did that! And to your best friend!” Nick looked down in shame. “Kevin, aren’t you going to say something to Nick? I mean, look what he did to your little cousin,” Kevin was still knelt at Brian’s side, running his fingers protectively through Brian’s hair. “Come on Kev,” AJ persisted, “Look what he did; then he lies about him losin’ his memory, I mean come on. Aren’t you mad at him?”
“Yeah, I’m mad,” Kevin said calmly, never taking his eyes off his unconscious cousin. “But I know it was an accident, and I know that Nick is really sorry. But I don’t think he’s lying about Brian’s memory.”
“What?!”
“Just think about AJ. What would Nick gain if he lied about something like this? Nothing. So, he has no reason to say it, only if it’s true. I do think you owe Nick an apology.”
“Well, I am sorry for blowin’ up at you like that Nick. And Kev, that does make some sense,” AJ admitted, “But this kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life. In cartoons, yes, but not in the real world.”
“I guess we’ll find out now,” Howie said leading an older man into the living room. “This is Dr. McGreggor.”
“I’m sorry to say, but after examining your friend, there is no doubt that he is suffering from memory loss. He suffered a nasty blow to the head. The lump is evidence of that, but it should be gone by tomorrow morning,” Dr. McGreggor informed the boys. Brian was in the living room sitting up, eating some leftover spaghetti. “But don’t worry, he only has a short term case.” Dr. McGreggor said quickly after seeing the guys’ weary faces.
“When will he get his memory back?” Kevin asked hopefully.
“It’s hard to say. It could be a couple of days, weeks, or even months. Most likely small things will come to him here and there,” Dr. McGreggor explained, “And then there is the rare occurrence that something could trigger his memory, and then everything will come back to him at once.”
“Is there anything we can do to help him?” Nick asked.
“Be sure to tell him about himself, and answer his questions,” Dr. McGreggor instructed, “Show him pictures, and even play him some of your songs. Anything to trigger a memory.”
“Thank you doctor,” Howie said leading him to the door, “But can we ask you a favor?”
“Of course, anything for the Backstreet Boys.”
“Could you not mention this to anyone. If the media, a fan, anyone gets a hold of this, it would get out of control.”
“You needn’t worry. Nothing of this will leave my lips.”
“Phew, thanks doc,” AJ said wiping away fake sweat from his forehead.
“Yes, thank you,” said Kevin.
“You’re welcome, boys, and good luck with your friend. Bye.”
**********
“Hi Brian. How’s your head feelin’,” Kevin asked sitting down next to Brian on the couch.
“Uhh, hi. Better I guess,” Brian said uneasy, slowly inching away from the unfamiliar man.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Brian. My name’s Kevin.”
“Oh. Will I ever get my memory back?” Brian sounded desperate.
“Yeah, don’t worry cuz, the doctor said that you only have a short term case.”
“How long is a short term…Hey, wait. Did you just call me cuz, as in cousin?”
“Yeah, we’re cousins.”
He’s my cousin? My god, I don’t even know who my family is. Who are my parents? Am I married? Do I have kids? Am I even old enough to be married? Why can’t I just remem…
“Brian. Brian?” Kevin said to break Brian out of his ‘trance.’
“Huh?”
“Brian, I know you’re really confused right now, so I’m gonna tell you about yourself. If you have any questions just ask, okay?” Kevin explained. Brian nodded. “You’re name is Brian Thomas Littrell.”
“Uhh…umm…”
“Kevin,” Kevin supplied, seeing that Brian couldn’t remember his name.
“Uh, right. Kevin, how old am I?”
“You’re 25. You have an older brother Harold III. You’re parents are Harold Jr. and Jackie Littrell. They all live in Lexington, Kentucky; that’s where you grew up. We’re in your house now, in Orlando, Florida. You live here with your dog Lil’ Tyke, but he’s with your parents now.”
“Why do I live here?”
“That’s kinda a long story. I’ll get to that in a minute. Like I said before I’m your cousin, Kevin Richardson. That’s Alexander James McLean, but we call AJ. You know, he’s the one that tried to kill Nick.”
“Hey, I didn’t wanna kill him. I just wanted to beat him up,” AJ defended, “And it was only outta love for B-Rok, here. You’re gonna make him think I’m crazy.”
“I think he can already tell your crazy from the red hair and tattoos,” Howie joked. AJ grunted.
“That’s Howard Dwaine Dorough,” Kevin pointed out.
“But people call me Howie or Howie D.”
“And you know Nick,” said Kevin, “Nickolas Carter, your obvious blonde friend.”
“Right,” said Nick, “Hey! Wait a minute!” Everyone laughed at Nick’s slow reaction.
“How old are you guys?” Brian asked.
“I’m 28,” answered Kevin.
“22,” said AJ.
“26,” Howie answered.
“I’m 20,” said Nick.
“Oh. Hey Kevin, you still didn’t answer me,” Brian spoke up, “Why do I live in Florida?”
“Well, in short it’s because you, as the rest of us, are a Backstreet Boy.”
“Backstreet Boy?”
“…that makes you lager than life!”
“Wow, we sang all those songs? I sang those songs? Can’t believe it, I’m famous.”
“Believe it buddy, “ said AJ patting Brian on the back, “we’ve been doin’ this for seven years.”
The guys told Brian about all their success and their years of being the Backstreet Boys. Brian was awestruck by it all.
Wow, I’m a famous singer. I have tons of fans. My own concerts and interviews. These guys seem to be real good friends with me. From those stories they’ve told me, we’ve been through thick and thin. My life sounds great. *Sigh.* It would be even better if I could remember it.
“Earth to Brian.” AJ said waving his hand in front of Brian’s eyes. Brian broke from his hypnotic stare and blinked repeatedly to come back to the ‘real world’ around him.
“Huh? Sorry, did you say something?”
“Yeah, I asked you if you were hungry,” said Nick.
“Oh, yeah, I am.”
“Great, were gonna order a pizza.”
“I’ll call,” Howie volunteered. Just as Howie was going to pick up the phone to order the pizza, it rang.
“Hello? . . . .Oh, hi. . . . Yeah it’s me, Howie. . . . . .Yeah, we’re all here. . . . . . .No, nothing’s wrong. Why would something be wrong? Were just hanging out, everything’s fine. . . . . . .Yeah, I’m sure. . . . . . . . . .What? But I thought we were on vacation. . . . . . . .No, but. . . . . . . . . .Yes. . . . . . . . .Sure, I’ll tell ‘em. . . . . . . Yeah, thanks, bye.”
“What’s up D?” AJ asked, “Who was it?”
“It was management,” Howie said with a sigh, “They said we’re gonna be on a special live Rosie O’Donnell Show.”
“Aw man. I thought we were on vacation,” Nick whined.
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“Man this is bogus,” AJ grumbled.
“When is it Howie?” Kevin asked.
“Tomorrow,” Howie answered in a weak voice.
“What?!” AJ shouted.
“Yeah, it’s tomorrow at five in New York. They’re gonna fly us over at seven tomorrow morning. First, we’re scheduled to sing, and then talk with Rosie for a few minutes.”
“What? Can’t we cancel?” asked Kevin.
“They said it’s a no can do.”
“Well, were gonna have a problem,” said AJ, “considering Brian doesn’t know the lyrics to any of the songs. Let alone who the hell he is.”
“Can’t we just tell them what happened?” Brian asked.
“That might sound like the right thing to do, Bri. But believe me, that will cause more harm than good,” convinced Nick.
“Then what are we gonna do? AJ’s right, I don’t remember any of the words to the songs.”
“Howie, what song did they say we’re gonna sing?” Kevin asked.
“I Want it That Way.”
“Okay, this is what we’ll do,” Kevin instructed, “We’ll go over the song with Brian ‘til he learns the chorus. We’ll give his solos to Nick, and say Brian has a sore throat. And that way Rosie won’t ask him too many questions. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Everyone responded.
“Hey, what about the pizza?” Nick asked. He was answered by an array of pillows thrown at him from every direction.
The Backstreet Boys were on the middle of the stage sitting on their stools, waiting for the go ahead to start singing. Brian’s heart pounded, his body tensed as he stared at the audience and the cameras.
I bet the old me would have no problem performing in front of a studio audience and on live TV. But I’m not the old me, am I?
“30 seconds!” a stage crewman, named Allen, yelled. Brian could feel the butterflies in his stomach doing somersaults. He began to shake.
“It’s okay, Brian.\,” Kevin said, steadying his cousin, by putting his hand on his shoulder. “Just sing. And just close our eyes if you get nervous. You usually sing with your eyes closed, anyway.”
“B-b-but what if I mess up the words?”
“15 seconds!” Allen yelled again.
“Don’t worry, you only have to sing the chorus. And if you forget the words, just mouth it. Just remember, we all believe in you, Brian,” Brian’s body relaxed at his cousin’s kind words.
“Thanks Kevin.”
“And in 5,” Allen started to count down, “4, 3, 2…” He pointed to the guys and they began to sing.
You are my fire
The one desire
Believe when I say
I want it that way
But we are two worlds apart
Can’t reach to your heart
When you say
That I want it that way
CHORUS
Tell me why
Ain’t nothin’ but a heartache
Tell me why
Ain’t nothin’ but a mistake
Tell me why
I never wanna hear you say
I want it that way
Am I your fire
Your one desire
Yes I know it’s too late
But I want it that way
CHORUS – repeat
Now I can see that we’re fallen apart
From the way that it used to be, yeah
No matter the distance
I want you to know that
Deep down inside of me
You are my fire
The one desire
You are, you are, you are, you are
Don’t wanna hear you say…
Ain’t nothin’ but a heartache
Ain’t nothin’ but a mistake
I wanna hear you say
I never wanna hear you say
I want it that way
CHORUS – repeat
‘Cause I want it that way
Brian was blown away by the audience’s cheers.
Wow, I can’t believe it. All them cheers for me, for us. I could get used to this. I didn’t even miss one word in the song. Now I hope I can fake the sore throat. I hope she doesn’t ask me stuff the guys didn’t tell me about.
“Brian? Brian, come on. We have to be on set with Rosie in one minute.” Howie said shaking Brian lightly on the shoulder, “Come on.”
“Here they are girls,” Rosie introduced, “They just about made us faint with their performance of I Want it That Way. It’s the Backstreet Boys!”
The guy walked out on to the set and took their seats next to Rosie’s desk.
“Hi guys!”
“Hi Rosie,” Howie greeted.
“Hello,” smiled Nick.
“It’s great to have you all back here. The song was great. But I noticed Brian, here, wasn’t singing too much. Something wrong?” Brian’s eyes grew wide. He tried to talk, but he couldn’t. He was too nervous. He looked at the audience staring at him, and looked at the cameras, where he knew millions more were watching him.
“He’s gotta sore throat,” Kevin saved, “He’s kinda losin’ his voice.”
“Oh, oh, I see. Hope you feel better,” Rosie continued, “Okay I understand that you just finished your Millennium Tour.”
“Yeah,” Nick confirmed.
“Well, I went to one of your concerts. It was great; I love it. So how do you feel now that your tour’s over?”
“Well, it’s a relief to know we got thought all the concerts,” answered AJ, “We enjoy every minute of the performing, I love it. But after a long while of being on the road, and being away from family; it feels great to be on vacation and take a break.”
“A well deserved break, I’m sure,” Rosie’s sad attempt to make a joke, “Now I have a couple questions from the fans, who wrote in to the show. Here’s one from Kristina from Arizona. Do you guys have girl friends?”
“Nope,” said Howie.
“Yes,” Kevin answered.
“Sorry girls, but I do,” said AJ.
“No,” said Nick.
“What about you Brian?” Rosie asked.
“Uhh…”
“Yeah, he does,” said Nick.
“I do? Ow.” Nick elbowed Brian in the ribs. “I mean, yeah, I do.”
“Okay our time is almost up so here’s another question. It’s from Ana from Massachusetts. What is your favorite song from the Millennium Album?”
“Definitely, Larger Than Life,” said Howie, “’Cause it goes out to all you fans.” The audience screamed.
“Well, guys one of my favorite Backstreet songs is That’s What She Said. Our very own Brian wrote the song,” Rosie pushed a button on the side of her desk, and That’s What She Said began to play.
After the very first guitar note, Brian’s memory started flooding back.
I remember! I remember!
“I remember! I remember!” Brian shouted, jumping to his feet. “I’m Brian! I’m a Backstreet Boy! I remember! Leighanne! Leighanne! How could you guys not tell me I had a girlfriend? Some friends you are. But I remember! I remember!”
“Brian,” Kevin yanked him back down into his seat.
“What?” Kevin nodded toward to the cameras and the silent audience staring at him with odd looks.
Brian did the only thing he could think of, pretend to be sick.
“Uhh…” Brian moaned, “I don’t feel so good.” Nick caught on to Brian’s plan of faking he was sick. Nick put his hand on Brian’s forehead.
“Whoa! Geez, Bri, you’re burning up,” Brian slunk his head down and gripped his stomach with his arms.
“Ooh, “ Brian moaned again, “I think I’m gonna be sick.” Brian bolted out of his seat and ran off the set into his dressing room.
“I’ll make sure he’s okay,” Nick said running after Brian
“Well, does anyone care to explain to me what just happened there?” asked a confused Rosie.
“Um, well, you see, Brian has more than just a sore throat,” Kevin covered for him, “He’s had a real high fever the past two days, and he’s been really out of it. We thought he had gotten better, but after the plane trip here he got worse. But being as dedicated as he is, he still wanted to come out here and perform for the fans.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Rosie fell for it, and the audience seemed to believe it. “Well, I’m sure we all hope he feels better real soon. Our time is up anyway, so thanks for coming and take good care of our Brian, right girls,” The audience screamed. “Bye guys and good luck.”
“Bye, thanks Rosie,” said Howie. They all waved to the audience and left for Brian’s dressing room.
“Man, live TV. I musta looked like a lunatic,” said Brian.
“You did,” teased Nick.
“Nick!” everyone scolded.
“The main thing is that you got your memory back, cuz,” Kevin said giving Brian a hug.
“Yeah, welcome back, B-Rok,” AJ mussed up Brian’s hair.
“Yeah, I’m so glad you’re okay,” said Nick, “And I’m sorry I caused all this.”
“It’s okay, Nick. Next time we play basketball, I’ll wear a helmet,” Brian joked.
“Maybe you should wear something to protect that wiggly butt of yours. After all that’s what I was aiming for, I just mistook your face for it,” Nick joked back.
“Ouch. That one hurt,” Brian said cringing his face.
“Great to have Frick and Frack back,” said Howie.
“Well, now we have to explain what happened, to management,” said Kevin.
“Let’s just stick with the fever story,” said AJ.
“Okay, but lets go home first,” Brian said.
“And what makes you think they’ll let us?” asked Howie.
“’Cause I’m very sick,” *Cough, cough,* “and I have to go to bed,” Brian acted dramatically sick.
“Well, okay lets see if we can get a flight home for tonight,” said Howie whipping put his cell phone.
“Wait a minute,” said Kevin, “Brian are you sure your back to normal? I mean, do you remember everything?”
“Yeah, Kev. I do. I do remember.”
THE END