Frank Moffatt sat at the kitchen table sipping his coffee when the front door opened. One by one, his 4 sons filed into the kitchen and began to raid the cupboard.
“Ahem, What are you doing?” Frank questioned. The four jumped and spun around to see who spoke. The angry gleam in Scott’s eye disappeared when he saw his fathers face.
“Ah, we’re hungry.” He defended.
“Greg’s coming over and he volunteered to cook so don’t eat anything.” Frank informed his sons.
“Dad! That’s the reason we are eating... you know what happened that last time Greg tried to cook with Sheila’s oven.” Dave whined. Frank’s firm mouth turned into a little smile as he remembered the chaotic event.
“Oh no he isn’t! That man is NOT using my brand new oven! ” Sheila protested as she entered the kitchen to greet the boys. Just then, the doorbell rang.
“He IS NOT using my oven!” Sheila hissed. Frank rolled his eyes.
“Please! He’s here. In-fact you can help him! Please!” He pleaded. Sheila’s stiff back drooped knowing she was defeated.
“Fine... Let him in.”
“Thank you!” Frank exclaimed as he went to answer the door. The boys looked at each other, looked at their stepmother.
“Go! Hurry up! I’ll order you pizza!” She whispered to them as they dashed up the stairs. Pasting a smile on her face Sheila went to say her hellos.
~@~
“Haha! Man I LOVE Sheila! Pizza. MMMM Pizza! I feel sorry for Sheila and Dad.” Bob said with his mouth full. Scott grinned. Clint laughed.
“Hey! Look! I have something that’ll make this pizza better,” Reaching under his bed Clint pulled out a cardboard box. Dave peered into the box and gasped.
“That’s BEER!”
“SSSHHHHHHH” Scott covered Dave’s mouth with his hand. “Do you want Dad to find out?”
Dave shook his head ‘no’ and Scott’s hand removed itself.
“No Shit dumbass!” Clint replied.
“What kind Clint?” Bob asked.
“The one and only Heineken my brother” Clint smiled broadly. Scott had pulled out 5 beers.
“Uh Scottie boy, there’s only 4 of us. You got 5 there,” Dave pointed out.
“Yea I know, 1 for each of us and 2 for me! I AM the oldest you know,” Scott laughed. The triplets groaned. Glancing at the clock Bob announced.
“Hey! It’s 7:00; Lets get going to ‘Moonstrip.’ It’ll take us at least half an hour to get there.” Grabbing his coat he got up to leave the room.
Scott, Dave and Clint followed.
“Hey, where are you going?” Frank called from the living room. Scott poked his head in the room.
“Out, can we borrow the SUV? Thanks!” Grabbing the keys from the hook on the wall, he darted out of the house to join his brothers.
~@~
6:30 p.m. Carla’s house...
“AWW Please! Jon, We NEED you to drive us! Your the only one with a pickup truck to hold my drums and our amps!” Carla pleaded.
“Carla! I can’t, Bryson is coming over!” Jon protested.
“PLEASE!” Carla begged. Now she was on her knees.
“Carla!”
“PLEASE! IM BEGGING YOU! I AM ON MY KNEE’S IN MY $100 OUTFIT! PLEASE!”
“Fine! Fine! Lets go NOW!” Jon gave up. Grabbing his keys he headed to the door.
“YES!” Carla shouted and ran out after her brother.
7:30 p.m. Moonstrip Bar and Grill...
“ARGH! Where is my fucking rip-top?” Markie hollered. Ripping through her duffel bag, she screamed in frustration.
“Here! Have this! Take some scissors to it.” Alisa tossed Markie a tight black top. Markie sighed and grabbed the knife they were using to cut the cake Josie had made. Laying it down on the table and brought the knife down and slashed,
“Perfect!” Turning around Markie pulled the remodeled top over her head. On the front it said ‘QT’ and on the back it said, ‘Kiss me!.’ Grabbing up her guitar she headed to the stage. Carla, Alisa and Josie all followed.
“Hey, Scott! Dave, Bob, Clint! PSSST! OVER HERE!” Alisa whispered. When the four failed to notice, she tapped Tomas the bar tender on the shoulder.
“Hey, You see those four guys over there? Can you bring ‘em here for me?” She asked.
“Yea, ya mind if I give ‘em a scare?”
“Nah, go wild, thanks Tom.” Alisa grinned. She watched as Tom went over and tapped Scott on the shoulder. She couldn’t see what they were saying but Scott looked piss scared. When Tom pointed over to her, Scott’s panicked expression turned into an embarrassed grin.
“AHH! You! I should have known.” Scott shook his head as he walked over. Alisa grinned.
“Over there! You see that table close to the stage, go sit there.” Pointing to the specified seat Alisa finished.
“Ok I got to get ready see you after!” and rushed off to join her fellow band mates.
“Alis, where were you, we are like, going on now!” Markie hissed, tossing her hair. Jogging up on stage, she smiled at the applause.
“HEY! Everybody! Howsit going? I’m Markie and WE are SACRIFICE! Tonight we’re gonna do some covers and some of our own hope you like it!” Markie started out with the usual opening song, ‘Murder’s like Loving you’ Pretty soon the whole room was moving and shaking. The four brothers were having a great time.
“Hey, Guys I’ll.......be right........back ok? Goshta duse..*sniff* the facil, facil, fashilities.” A drunk Dave waved to his brothers and headed left.
“Ok!” Scott responded. He didn’t know his brother was drunk. Screams suddenly filled the air. The band had stopped playing. Scott stopped his conversation with the bartender and turned around. His eyes widened when he saw what was causing the screams. There, up on stage, was Dave. Drunk as a Skunk and buck-naked. He was hanging off Markie and singing his little heart out. Markie looked like she was about to puke as did her band mates. Everyone was screaming.
“WHO THE HELL IS THAT!” Tom the bartender hollered.
“Uh, I’ll be right back.” Scott dashed off.
“Umm, umm, everybody calm down. Just a little, uhh, technical emergency.” Carla jumped up from her drum set and took Dave under one arm and helped Markie carry him off stage.
“Heyo pwetty ladies. Didcha like ma sssow?” Dave asked a pair of waitresses going out for a smoke. Dragging him into their dressing room, Markie dumped him on the couch. Red faced she started screaming,
“You little bastard! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO US!!” Her muscles tensed like she about to hit him. Scott appeared in the door. Carla ran to him,
“What the fuck is up with Dave?”
“He’s drunk!”
“NO Shit Sherlock but has he never been drunk before?” Carla hissed.
“NO! I am in SOOO much SHIT!” Scott slammed his head against the wall. That seemed to bring Markie out of her angry state a bit.
“HOW COULD YOU LET HIM DO THIS TO ME! I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO EMBARESSED IN MY WHOLE FUCKING LIFE!” Markie shouted. Grabbing Scott by his shirt, she pushed him up against the wall. Carla knew that if she let this go on Scott would most likely take the beating meant for Dave. Grabbing Markie, Carla pulled her off Scott. Now it was Scott’s turn to get angry.
“DAVID MICHEAL WILLIAM MOFFATT! What the FUCK did you think you were doing?” Scott slugged Dave on the bare shoulder. Grabbing up a blanket he threw it on him.
“YOU FUCKING IDIOT! HOW COULD YOU GET DRUNK! SURE, 1 OR 2 BEERS AT HOME! IS OK BUT YOU DO NOT GET FUCKING HAMMERED IN PUBLIC!” Scott raged on.
“But, but Shcott, I gots thirsty, and all dere was, *sniff* was beer.” Dave explained quite slowly.
“Man! I cannot go home and tell dad Dave got wasted.” Scott slumped down into the blue bubble chair provided and hung his head in his hands.
“Sco-WHOA! What reeks?” Clint asked. Bob held his nose.
“Smells like a brewery,” Bob commented nasally.
“The brewery is your fucking idiot of a brother Dave, he is piss fucking drunk!” Markie explained quite feverishly.
“Whoa man, Dave, drunk? What happened? What did we miss?” Clint asked.
“Well if you guys weren’t so busy flirting with those two waitresses, you'dve seen Dave singing for us, buck fucking naked.” Scott sighed. Turning to Markie he asked.
“Umm, I can’t take him home, you know where I can take him?”
“Yea let me make a call and I’ll see if he can stay at my house.”
“Great, I got to call Sheila and explain why neither Dave or I are coming home tonight. Umm, Bob, Can ya grab my coat and head home now? Before things get messy? Your story is, YOU WERENT THERE! Ok?” When Bob nodded, Scott stood up.
“Where’s a payphone?”
“Umm, at the bar..” Carla directed. Scott closed the door behind him and walked out to the bar. Picking up the receiver, he deposited 25cents into the machine.
“Hello?” Sheila answered.
“Hey, it’s me Scott, is dad around?”
“No no I think he’s in the living room with Greg” Sheila replied. “Why?”
“Umm, Dave’s, umm Wasted. He’s not coming home tonight, he does not need Dad all over him like wet socks ok?” Scott explained.
“What???” Sheila lowered her voice. “Dave is drunk? Don’t bring him home. I’ll tell Frank that Dave and you ran into a few friends and are staying at their place.”
“Whew thanks Sheila, I owe you one.” Scott sighed with relief.
“No problem, Bob and Clint are home now. I’ll go explain to your father. Bye honey.” Sheila hung up. Sighing Scott headed back to the dressing room where 4 girls and a drunk Dave awaited his return.
“Hey Scott, No prob, Mum is gone out and she won’t be home. I didn’t have the chance to ask but when Mom goes out, she’s gone for days. So come on, lets get this wreck home.” Markie said gesturing to the door.
“I’ll see you guys later ok?” Josie said getting up to leave.
“Yea, get him sober!” Carla commented trailing after Josie.
“Thanks girls, bye, see ya whenever.” Scott said as he carried Dave out the door. He was singing again.
“OH! You don’t know the trublve I’ve seen! OH You’ll neva know ma shorrow.”“C’mon Dave, lets go home.” Scott struggled to get Dave under his arm. Markie stood up and gave him a hand.
“Look I’m sorry for going off on you like that earlier. I was just so mad. That was our first gig ever and well, I kinda wanted it to go well” Markie smiled apologetically.
“Hey it’s no problem, I would’ve been the same way.” Scott shrugged off the comment. Soon they reached Markie’s pickup truck. Opening the door to the back of the cab, Markie grabbed her seat cover.
"Here, put this on him.” She ordered. Scott flung the cover onto Dave’s naked torso. Climbing into the front seat he slammed the door behind him. Markie started the ignition and started for her house.
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