Frank Iero and the Meaning of Life

Chapter Eight - Operation Chameleon

Sometimes, I do something so batshit insane that it surprises myself.

I mean, shit. I went from making sandwiches to blowing up a real live human being(?) in less than a week. I think my mind had deteriorated so much that I was actually enjoying myself in this shithole of a fanfiction; kind of like Stockholm Syndrome, but with my author. Don't get me wrong, I still wanted to get the hell out of there; but there was something oddly charming about how shit everything was.

In other words, it really was just like Jersey.

Poison managed to round up a couple of ugly-ass scarecrow costumes; after we got ourselves ready for travel, we traveled to the saloon at the end of the road once more. The moment I stepped in, all eyes were on me.

Except, they weren't giving me the stink eye anymore.

A bunch of kids announced my arrival, and a few even came to crowd around me. It was honestly kind of hilarious, really; they completely ignored Poison and gave me a million high-fives instead.

"Look out for Fun Ghoul!" said one of them. "The town hero and the scarecrow slayer!"

How did I go from being forced to make out with sandwich Gerard to murdering pimps? Life is a fucking rollercoaster ride, I'll tell you what.

"Fellas, it's been great fun around here, with the murder and chaos and all..." I said, "but y'know, me and the boys have to split soon. We're planning on raiding Battery City for TB medicine."

Suddenly, the hootin' and hollerin' stopped, and all of the cowboy punks went silent. A few gasps came from the back of the saloon, and the bartender dropped an entire bottle to the ground. I didn't think that it was such a big deal, but apparently these jokers had no idea that we were covered head-to-toe in plot armor.

"Battery City?"

"It's suicide!"

"You're gonna get yourselves killed!"

"Or captured!"

"Or tortured!"

"Can I have your stuff if you die?"

"I really gotta take a piss."

"Guys, guys, I know," I said, "but we have a plan. We're gonna dress up as scarecrows, sneak right in, and nab the medicine from right under their noses."

One of them raised their hand. "Excuse me, Mr. Ghoul?" he asked. "Can we all storm Battery City with you?"

"No way, kid," I said. "Only the bravest and the best are allowed to roll with the Fab Four. Why the hell would any of you want to come with us, anyway? It would be a death sentence."

That kid then stood up on a chair. "It would be an honor to fight and die for the Fabulous Four," he announced. "I am willing to sacrifice anything, even my life, to free this wretched world from the power-hungry clutches of evil corporations. It would be a privilege to lay down my life for the freedom of those who suffer under such an oppressive, unjust regime!"

He paused for a moment.

"I'm also just really horny and want to clap some droid cheeks."

Everyone cheered and yeehawed.

"Guys, seriously!" I shouted. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but this needs to be a stealth mission."

One of the kids squinted in confusion. "Stealth?" she asked. "What's that?"

"It's when you're quiet and sneaky," I said. "Ducking in and out without leaving a trace."

Another kid scoffed and snickered. "That's lame," he said. "I say we all go in guns blazing, immediately giving ourselves away!"