InsaneJournal

FIC: The Great Pizza Project-- MCR ensamble, 15ish
title: The Great Pizza Project
author: lisa roquin
rating: 15
fandom: My Chemical Romance
series/sequel: Love Is Like Pizza
characters/pairings: My Chemical Romance, Matt Cortez, Brian Schechter
disclaimer: fiction. not real. fake. entirely made up for sheer ridiculousness.
summary: They're totally hopeless. Frank isn't giving up. And he's enlisting help.
warning: Frank's still insane. See the previous fic.
author's note: for purple alicorn for the music/fic prompts. which no I haven't forgotten. Honestly I haven't. prompt was MCR & things they come up with to amuse themselves on the road...doesn't quite fit and the song is totally random but...I tried. This has been sitting here a month but finally gave itself an ending this afternoon.
wordcount: 2200+
song--> Mind Your Own Business-Hank Williams Jr.



“They're hopeless,” Frank grumbled and flopped back on the lounge sofa. The they in question absent. One with a quick doctor's appointment for his wrists, the other inside setting up for that night's show.

“Who?” Gerard paused long enough in his drawing to take a sip of his coffee.

“Bob and Matt.”

Gerard blinked. “So I'm not the only one that's noticed...”

“Nope. Totally fucking hopeless. I even tried putting shit in really simple terms for Bob—I mean how much fucking simpler can you get than pizza? Ya know? Fucking hopeless.”

“Pizza?” Ray looked up from his gameboy.

“Yeah. Pizza.”

Gerard reached across the kitchenette table and pulled the earbud from his brother's ear.

“What?” Mikey looked up from his phone.

“Bob and Matt.” Gerard said.

Mikey groaned. “Think we could lock them in a room together?”

“I doubt it'd work.” Frank snorted. “We could lock 'em in a room together naked with plenty of lube and condoms. They'd probably just plot ways to kill us. They're fucking hopeless.”

“We've got a hotel night—tomorrow?” Gerard frowned. “What day is it?”

“Tuesday?” Ray frowned.

“Thought it was Thursday.” Frank tilted his head.

“Monday, morons.” Mikey answered.

“You totally cheated and looked on your phone.” Frank accused.

Mikey shrugged, not in the least bit sorry.

“I---want to hear the pizza part.” Ray said cautiously. “I mean...it might not have made sense to Bob because Bob is...well you know..Bob and...” he struggled to find something that was a polite way to say 'less fucking batshit than you Frank' He loved the guys dearly but...there were days that it was really just better to smile, nod and turn up the volume on your mp3 player or game because when Gerard and Frank, and Mikey, got going...sometimes...

“Yeah, Bob's not real good with metaphors.” Gerard agreed.

Frank made a face. “I couldn't have made it clearer!”

“Tell it to Ray, he's almost as slow with metaphors as Bob is.” Mikey said.

Ray gave Mikey an affronted look. “Let's hear it, Frank,” Ray said, quite proud of himself as he resisted the urge to tell Mikey that was because he was, ya know, sane like Bob.

Frank eagerly repeated the entirety of the Love Is Like Pizza clue by four metaphor. Ray had to admit it made sense in a completely Frank sort of way.

“You did not say Mexican Pizza,” Ray fought the urge to slap his forehead with his palm.

“Yeah I did. So? I mean God.” Frank snorted. “They're idiots. And they've been staring and avoiding and not talking to each other and just being fucking stupid for like almost a goddamned year!”

Ray couldn't argue with that. It was...oh hell even Worm had muttered about them getting stupid. Worm totally ignored shit like that as much as he could. Especially after all the hearts and flowers and notes written in Glitter Pen decorated with unicorn stickers and zombie doodles he'd had to deliver to MSI's bus on Projekt Rev.

“So. We need a plan, right?” Gerard looked at the other three hopefully. After all, everyone should be as happy as the four of them were, especially Bob and Matt. And besides, he was totally fucking stuck on the comic script he was working on any way.

“I vote for locking them in a room.” Mikey said.

“You really think we're going to manage to get them in a room?” Ray asked warily. Frank was right, they'd probably devise ways to kill everyone involved rather than hook up—though Ray would change the 'even if' to especially if they were locked in a room naked with lube and condoms. Though everyone would probably be injured in that case because there was just no way to get that to happen unless they'd both been partying to passing out—which they didn't. Or someone slipped something in their Starbucks, which no.

“Worm could help if we had to like pick em up and physically put them in there.” Frank speculated.

“I think we need to save that for last ditch desperation.” Ray shook his head.

“Who gets to decide last ditch desperation?”

“Me!” Ray declared.

“Why you?”

“Because you guys get carried away and don't have any patience and Bob and Matt are going to take time.”

“They've been staring for a year!” Frank protested.

“I decide or I go straight to them and tell them you're trying to set them up.” Ray said.

“Low, Ray, low,” Gerard shook his head.

Ray crossed his arms over his chest and stubbornly tilted his chin just a little higher.

“You're right about them taking time. They're idiots. We need a plan.” Frank agreed.

“I have final say?” Ray demanded and let out an exhale of relief when he got three solemn oaths that he did. On punishment of allowing Ray to take away his phone for two weeks (Mikey) giving up coffee for a month (Gerard) and choking down a steak (Frank).

“The Great Pizza Project is Underway.” Gerard grinned.

Ray was pretty sure this was a phenomenally bad idea. He hoped Matt and Bob didn't kill him, but it'd be worse if Frank and Gee were left to plot on their own. Mikey was too amused and busy texting updates to Alicia to be much help in curtailing them. If he didn't decide to go off and come up with something even further out there than Frank and Gee, though admittedly less elaborate. Mikey believed in a warped sort of simplicity.


**Day One**

Matt hopped the crew bus. There wasn't room. He didn't care. He was not getting on the bus with the guys—with Bob. No fucking way. Not tonight. Sitting at the kitchenette table all night was preferable to his own bunk. Very much so. Because his bunk was right above Bob's. And...just...just fuck no.

He couldn't fucking believe Frank. His babbling about freaking pizza and oh god...Chicago Deep Dish Pizza? He was going to kill Frank. Or maybe himself or...something. He handed over pure extortion money for the half bottle of Jack. He didn't care.

Oh god.


*

“Where's Matt?” Gerard frowned as the bus started to move and it registered that they were short a person.

“He's riding the tech's bus tonight.” Frank said glumly.

Bob eyed them warily.

“WHAT?” Gerard squawked.

“Oh. Shit. You'll die Toro.” Bob growled.

“Yeah. Figured. Trying though.” Ray agreed.

“The fuck?” Frank stared.

“BUTT OUT FRANK!”

“There's nothing to butt out of!” Gerard complained.

Bob headed for his bunk, strangling Frank just now was way too tempting.




**Day Three**

Mikey was creeping him the fuck out. He'd been staring. Okay, yeah, Mikey stared a lot, no two ways about that. Mikey generally stared off into space blankly or stared at the damned text screen of his phone.

Mikey had been staring at him for the last hour and a half, barely blinking.

“What?” Matt finally cracked. They still had another two hours riding before they hit the venue. He was pretty sure Mikey intended to stare the entire time since there was no let up so far. And it was Mikey. Mikey could stare forever.

He'd go hide in his bunk, except Bob had already headed back to the bunks. Frank and his damned pizza shit...no. He didn't care if it did get obvious he was staying the hell away from Bob. These nuts had enough ideas. No. Just...no fucking way. He wasn't going to encourage them at all. Ray and Gee were in the studio and Frank was thankfully hiding in his bunk on the phone with Jamia.

“You got Bob tonight for roommate.”

“So help me, Mikey, if you start in about fucking pizza or some shit I will beat you so bad you won't be able to play tonight and I probably won't be able to play for you my hands'll be too fucked up.”

“What's wrong with pizza?” Mikey asked, all owl eyed and worried.

“Pizza fucking sucks.” Matt snarled and dug in his pocket, turned on his mp3 player and stuffed his ear buds in almost angrily. He grabbed Ray's gameboy, not knowing or caring what the hell the game still in it was, even as he smashed at the control buttons with his thumb.

*

“Want Worm or Brian?” Bob murmured. “Worm said he'd switch, he's got Bri for a roommate.” Brian had met them at the venue and was riding along a couple days.

“Worm's fine. Bri's got business shit for you guys.”

Bob nodded and hurried off. He managed not to do something really mean—he didn't know what, but mean--when Gerard freaking beamed at him.

*

Brian entered the room shaking his head. Bob was already there having left Mikey and Gerard's room the minute the business was done with.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“You don't want to know.”

“Mikey wants a shirt that says Life Isn't Worth Living Without Pizza. Frank and Gerard are absolutely manic that Cortez thinks pizza sucks and they've got to figure out a way to convince him it doesn't...and maybe you too.” Brian raised an eyebrow. Waiting.

“Don't ask.”

Brian thought that might be good advice. Frank and Gerard had been so worked up and upset over Pizza. Mikey was kind of twitchy. Ray looked like he was condemned man. They'd been on the road three months solid now, had another three weeks to finish this off and then hitting Europe in a month for seven weeks, followed by Asia, Australia and South America. He shrugged. Road insanity, not that these guys were all that sane to start with.

He just hoped they didn't go completely batshit with the rest of the tour. He wasn't planning on meeting up with them again until just before the Eurpoean leg.


**Day Ten**

Mikey had a dozen “You Can't Live Life Without Pizza” shirts. He'd been wearing one nonstop since Brian had them printed up and delivered. Possibly the same one. The stack didn't seem like it was any smaller and it was seven days since the last hotel and decent shower.

Matt retaliated. He had a T-shirt that read “Pizza Fucking Sucks.”

The boards went nuts.

The small test batch from a local screen printer in whatever city they were in sold out in like 45 seconds. Tshirts that read “You Can't Live Life Without Pizza” and “Pizza Fucking Sucks” were already taking off and looking to be as big a deal as Mikey's “Don't Google Yourself” and “Mikey Fuckin' Way” shirts. Brian was scrabbling to find a way to have at least a few available with their merch each show. Even if only a dozen or so from a t-shirt screen printer in whatever city. Simple enough to get with no elaborate design. Simple blocky white letters on black T's.






**Day Seventeen**


Brian stepped onto the bus. He had thirty eight frantic-reading texts from Ray that amounted to please come now. The last of which had flat out read GET YOUR FUCKING ASS HERE NOW SCHECHTER!

“Thank god.” Ray sighed.

Gerard was staring at Bob with a down right mournful expression.

“Brian?” Frank frowned. “You called Brian?” He looked at Ray.

“Going. To. Die. Slowly. Toro.” Bob growled.

Gerard sighed. Literally heaved and sighed like...some goddamn dramatic heroine or something. Too ridiculous to be anything but fake and making some bizarre Gerard-ish point.

Bob growled. Wordless, full out growl like a rabid dog or something. Then, “I'm going to my goddamn bunk. TELL THEM TO FUCKING FORGET ABOUT PIZZA BEFORE MATT FUCKING QUITS!”

“What the hell?” Brian groaned.

An hour later Brian stared at Ray in disbelief after both versions of the Love Is Like Pizza speech. He made mental note to thank both Bob and Matt profusely for not killing Frank. Hell for not killing all of them.

“Matt thinks Pizza sucks though.” Gerard said genuinely upset.

Ray shrugged helplessly at Brian.

Brian groaned.


**Day Twenty-One**

They sat through Brian's tirade. The final tirade. He'd been ranting every chance he got since he showed up. They all solemnly swore to give up the great pizza project before Brian was stuck arranging funerals and lawyers for murder charges.

“I mean it, Toro.” Brian glared.

Ray held out his hands helplessly with a shrug. “They wanted to lock them in a room naked with condoms and lube.”

Brian's jaw dropped. “If you three ever ever ever get so stupid as to plot shit –you don't let Ray have final veto you're—you're...finding a new fucking manager. JESUS! They'd have killed you. Bob would have quit. Matt would have quit. Goddamn. THINK! THE GREAT FUCKING PIZZA PROJECT IS DONE OVER DO YOU UNDERSTAND! GERARD!”

“Yeah.”

“MIKEY!”

“uh huh.”

“FRANK!”

“They're fucking idiots and they're miserable! We were just trying to help.” Frank complained.

“FRANK!”

“Yeah.” was the reluctant agreement.


*

“So..what're we gonna do for Plan B.” Frank asked.

“Plan B?” Ray whimpered.

“The road to Pizza's never smoothe.” Gerard said.

“That'd make a good t-shirt.” Mikey said thoughtfully.

“Brian will KILL YOU! No pizza nothing!” Ray yelped.

“So ideas for Plan B?

“Ask Jamia, Lyn and Alicia while you're home!” Ray said quickly, panicked. Oh he was going to get fucking killed. Please let them miraculously convince the guys to drop it. All of a sudden, Ray was really dreading Europe.