In Which Kat Expresses Her Feelings With Sketchers Doc Marten Knock Offs And Anna Nalick Music

"2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
can you help me unravel my latest mistake,
I don't love him, winter just wasn't my season -"

"Can someone shut her up?"

"I don't know. . .she really can't sing. . ."

"Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to critisize,
hypocrites, you're all here for the very same reason -"

"Shut UP Kat!"

"CAUSE YOU CAN'T JUMP THE TRACK, WE'RE LIKE CARS ON A CABLE
AND LIFE'S LIKE AN HOURGLASS, GLUED TO THE TABLE - "

"I think I'm going to go insane. . ." Gabe moaned, leaning sadly on the couch next to the heap of trenchcoats from which the off key Anna Nalick music was issuing.

"You think?" Asked Max dustily from underneath the couch. He was playing with a dust bunny named Mictus, who was also a hint regarding Ben's birthday gift. He was also hiding from the terribly offkey music coming from within the coat. "You THINK?"

"Come on," Ben remarked, in a rare spasm of optimism, "she doesn't sound that bad."

"No one can find the rewind button girl,
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe, just breathe,
Woah breathe, just breathe -"

"Yes," Ben amended unhappily, "she does. Dear God, what's wrong with her?"

"What's wrong with her?" Sane Personage said, "She's hiding under blankets, asking for Haagen Daz, and singing depressing chick music. It's all about a -"

Kat flopped over and fell onto the floor. They could only just see her brown haired head sticking up from a miasma of black cloth. Thankfully she'd stopped singing, but nothing could stop her groaning. She lay there under the coats and allowed tears to secrete gloppily from her eyes, which were slightly swollen by now. The tears fell into the ice cream, and melted it with their heat.

"Kat, your angsty writing is really bad," Spencer complained, sitting uncomfortably on one overstuffed armchair.

Then something ocurred to Max. "Hey!" He shrieked. "Let's call in the heavy artillery."

"The whats?" Asked Willy Wonka, who'd been sitting in the corner all this time, licking a lollipop happily and making the occasional remark about how dreadful Kat's haircut was.

"The Eriks. And the Nadir! Max, you're brilliant!" Gabe jumped up and engulfed Max in a bear hug. Max squeaked and Gabe let go, rubbing his ears. Ben sat calmly on the couch, watching them with a faintly amused look on his face, and occasionally poking Kat with his foot.

Max dug Mictus the dust bunny hint from out under the couch and set him down on the table. "Mictus, go find Leroux!Erik and Kay!Erik! And Nadir!" Mictus hopped off, crossing Ben's new waterproof shoes, leaving a dull line of gray dust over everything. Ben kicked the dust bunny and it bounced off, muttering about union regulations, Vampire Lords, and new owners who had no respect, no, no respect at all.

"May he turn 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
Just today he sat down to the flask in his fist,
Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year -"

Gabe moaned and fell onto the floor, pulling a straight backed chair over himself. "We're all gonna die."

"Yes," Ben provided, "at some point."

"I meant rather sooner than we'd have liked."

"Ah, well. . ."

There was a short silence.

"What lovely weather we're havi - OW! Owwowowowoow. . ."

Kat had kicked him with one Sketcher Doc Marten knock off boot. They were enormous, painful, and hard. And, speaking of which, waterproof. "Oh," she muttered, "I barely tapped you."

"I was creating dramatic effect."

"Oh sure," Max mocked, "dramatic effect."

"Yes," said a silky, hissing voice from behind his ear, slipping a noose around Max's neck. "Dramatic effect."

Max screamed at the top of his lungs and began jumping about like a maniac.

"Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,
But my God it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him, maybe I'll just sing about it!"

"Oh, is the problem the depressed and bad singing Phantom?" Erik, the Opera Ghost, asked, calmly, slipping from the shadows and standing next to a terrified and vibrating at high frequency Gabe.

"Yes!" Said Willy Wonka, handing the short Persian man next to Erik a chocolate bird, and jamming his top hat on top of Gabe's shaking head. It vibrated there, constantly in danger of tumbling.

"Well, when Phantoms are singing and depressed, it's generally my forte," Nadir Khan offered modestly. "May I be of help?"

"Certainly, M. Khan. Give us a hand wiith the depressed J.G.. I'm the resident Persian."

"But you're not Persian."

"I lived in England for a year. They buy oil from Persia-now-Iran."

"Um. So does everyone else."

"Fine!" Ben crossed his arms, then recrossed them, lifted up one foot, and put it down. He tends to do this a lot. No one has a clue why.

"Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe, just breathe,
Woah breathe, just breathe!"

"You've sung that before!"

"It's the chorus, I think."

"There's a light at each end of this tunnel, you shout
'Cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
These mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around."

"What's it all mean?"

"Shut up, it's cryptic."

"And breathe, just breathe
Woah breathe. . .just breathe. . ."

"I'm breathing, damnit. . ."

"2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, its no longer
inside of me, threatening the life they belong to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd -"

"What was that?"

"Shut up, Max."

"Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to. . ."

"Well, no, not really, not if she threatens to sue us. . ."

"Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand."

"I understand! I understand!"

"DON'T SING, MAX!"

"And breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe,
oh breathe, just breathe."

"As I was saying?" The SP continued sensibly. "It's probably all about a boy."

"I HAAATE BOYS!"

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.