Pissboy • Fall Out Boy

Pissboy

Joe looked down at the list of groceries he had. He was walking to the grocery store to pick up some stuff for him and his roommate, Patrick. Suddenly, his foot caught slightly on the paving of the sidewalk, causing him to trip.

He stumbled, bumping into another person. That person caught him by the shoulders, helping him steady himself once more. Joe looked up at the man, thanking him.

"Sorry for bumping into you, thanks for- oh my god, it's you!" The other man looked at Joe, laughing slightly.

He began, "Yeah, I'm from Arma Angelus! Pete. Let me guess, you want my autogr-" before Joe cut him off.

"No, no, I know you from somewhere else! You're that fucking pissboy!" Joe starts laughing as the smile fades from Pete's face.

"Wh-what?" Pete asks, dumbfounded. "What do you m-mean... pissboy?" His voice trembled, as did his hands. His lip began quivering ever so slightly. He anticipated Joe's next words nervously, unsure of just what had been said about him.

"Yeah, word on the streets is that you're a pissboy! I've been hearing it everywhere," Joe exclaimed.

"N-n-no.. that's just- just rumors..." Pete said nervously, his voice small. His eyes began to tear up as he let out a small whine.

"Just.. just rumors.... All it is is just... rumors....." Pete began repeating to himself erratically. Joe began to gain a worried look as Pete started to rock himself back and forth.

"Just rumors.. I'm no pissboy... It's all.. r-rumors..." he said to himself between whines.

Joe butted in, "Hey man, it's just what I heard. I'm not like... calling you a pissboy or anything. Just, calm down. Okay?" Pete's gaze shot upward at Joe, the look he was giving him sending daggers.

"Do not. Tell me. To calm. DOWN!" Pete yelled at him. "I AM NO PISSBOY!" Joe backed away a couple steps.

Pete let out a loud, growl-like sound that trailed off into a low squealing. One that sounded like a pig crying out in pain. Suddenly, he began crying. Joe stepped forward, putting his hand on Pete's shoulder.

"Hey man, it's okay. You- you aren't a pissboy!" Pete looked up at him for a moment with a blank expression. The tears stuck to his cheeks like glue.

"P-pissboy?" Pete asked him softly. Joe shook his head.

"No. No pissboy." Joe spoke in the same tone one would use when comforting a child. Pete stared into Joe's eyes.

"I'm not a pissboy," he said sternly. "I'm not a pissboy..." he repeated, his voice cracking.

Suddenly, he began crying again. He shrugged Joe's hand off his shoulder. He began sobbing, full-force, and quivering. His knees shook as large sobs washed over him in waves.

He gasped between breaths, "I'm not- a fucking- PISSBOY!"

He cried out a loud and desperate noise of exasperation. He fell to his knees, collapsing into himself. Suddenly, as if a monster caged inside of him was finally released, he let out a low growl. With it, his once white pants grow soaked with a yellowish-brownish liquid. He let out a loud squeal and continued sobbing once more.

"This is all your fault! You turned me into a pissboy! I HATE YOU!!!" Pete screamed at Joe.

Joe stood away from him, slowly backing away. His mouth was agape in pure horror. He turned away, and began sprinting, full-speed, in the opposite direction. He ran as fast as he could, not caring what he bumped into.

He shoved past old couples, knocked over strollers with small babies in them, whatever was in his way of getting as far from Pete as possible. He ran until he could no longer hear Pete's pissboy-fueled sobs.

He collapsed onto the ground in an alley, thinking about what had just happened. Whatever it was he has just witnessed—it was scarring; in a way beyond repair. He would never be the same man he was twenty minutes ago.

Whatever he did, wherever he went, the image of Pete collapsing into a heap on the ground as he became soaked in urine and sobbing uncontrollably would forever be burned into his mind.