AN: THE DEAD HAS ARISEN!!!!! Muahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!! … Well, ladies and gentlemen, it is I, and I am back!… I honestly can’t explain the temporary leave I just had, but I’m gonna say this: IT SURES HELL SUCKED! Anyhoo, the long awaited chapter 2 of this saga is here…

Disclaimer: Linkin Park or its members hasn’t, isn’t, or ever will be in my ownership…. Sniff life sucks!! ; (

“And back here, we’ve got the Pheonix. This is where we keep the Pheonix.” “And you just came, when I just lost, too. Which doesn’t happen too often.” –Rob and Dave in “Pancake Festival” / “Touring”

The Bus Chronicles: Dude, I Just Lost!

The young men of Linkin Park were continuing their Ozzfest Tour. With their bus parked at a rest stop, Rob, Joe, and Chester wandered off for food. Where as Brad, Mike, and Dave were in the back of the bus. The bassist and emcee were sitting on the sofa, and Brad was sitting on the floor.

Dave was passionately in tuned with Resident Evil. Punching madly away at the controller, his body was tense in concentration. Unfortunately, it didn't his dwindling victory, with his two other band mates yelling and shouting.

"What the hell are you doing, Dave?!" Mike cried, eyes wide and leaning towards the TV in suspense. Dave's teeth clenched in irritation.

"Dude, he's, like, right there!" Brad replied, referring to the zombie on the bassist's right. However, he was occupied in trying to destroy the mob surrounding him.

Not liking the pressure built around him, Phoenix snapped. Turning away from the game, he faced the animated guitarist.

"I know! God, shut up!" he yelled.

"Dave, look out!" Mike cried suddenly, pointing to the screen.

"Oh, shit!" Phoenix muttered, immediately focusing on the game, once more.

"Dave!" Brad called, over come with agitation at his dying friend. (An: can u not feel the emotion! lol....)

"Dave!" Mike shouted in warning.

"DAVE!!" both men screamed.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Dave bellowed in terror.

Consequently, it was too late. The three men watched as Phoenix was ripped and eaten by a swarm of zombies. The friends sat in silence, when the game went back to the main menu. Thus signifying, the game was over.

Silence.... silence.... silence....

"I-I can't believe it...," Mike murmured softly, his voice laced with disbelief.

"I-I just lost...," Dave whispered astonished, face etched in horror.

"Dude," Brad said, bringing in the rear. "You, like, just lost."

"No, shit, Brad!" Dave shouted in anger. His head whipped as he turned to the guitarist.

"It's all their fault!" he thought desperately. "If it wasn't for their big-ass mouths, I could've won! But, nooooooooo!!!"

"Phi, relax," Mike soothed. The emcee touched the bassist's shoulder consolingly. "It's only a game."

"No, it isn't, Mike!" Dave snapped, aggressively shrugging the other man's hand off. "It's more than that!"

"Oh, snap," Mike whispered, his hands rose in surrender. His eyes widened, and he leaned back in trepidation. "Dave's trippin'."

Brad only nodded, eyes bugged out, speechless. Then, the bassist's eyes watered, and he sniffled.

"Fuck this, man!" he growled, slamming his controller on the floor. He then huffed and stormed out the room.

Silence.... silence.... silence....

"So," Brad drawled cautiously, after the awkward silence. "You wanna, like, go a few rounds on Need for Speed?"

Mike shrugged indifferently.

"Sure, why not?"

They both then began to race against each other.

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Later on that day, the guys were on their way to Miami. The six band mates were lounging in the back again. From left to right: Chester, Brad, Rob, and Dave were situated on the couch. Mike and Joe were on the floor. Mike sat Indian-style between Chester and Brad. Joe was sitting, as well, his back leaning against Rob's legs.

"Damn it," Rob spat, passing his controller to Brad. "I swear, you be cheating, Mike." he grumbled.

"No, I don't, Robbie," the emcee cooed, turning to grin at the somber drummer.

"Whatever," the young man mumbled, arms crossed. He didn't like Ready 2 Rumble, anyway.

"You wanna play, Chazy?" Mike asked, facing the older man.

Grinning, Chester shook his head, running his hands through the red-tinted black hair.

"Naw, I'm ok, baby. I'm having more fun watching you, though." he replied gently. Feeling his cheeks flush, Mike turned to the sulking bassist.

"What about you, Phoenix?"

"NO," the man barked.

"Damn, I was only askin'," Mike murmured under his breath. He felt his boyfriend's hands gently massage his shoulders, a gesture of reassurance.

"Dave," Brad chuckled, staring at the brooding man, on the end of the couch. "Are you, like, still mad about earlier?"

Phoenix only glared straight ahead, no reaction.

"What happened earlier?" Joe asked, starting a round against Mike.

"Dave got his ass reamed by Resident Evil," Mike replied, making Afro Thunder give a combo to Joe's boxer.

"Ouch," Chester sneered, grinning at the thought. "How's your ass, Phi?"

Mike, Brad, and Rob snorted in amusement.

"Shut up, Chester," Dave growled, focusing his glare on the singer.

"Alright, you two, calm down," Brad admonished, sensing an argument. "It is not that serious."

"Stop saying that!" Phoenix started, getting worked up. "It is serious! It's the principle!!"

"Ok," Chester muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Rob shook his head.

"God damnit!" Joe cried, dropping his controller. Mike laughed apologetically at the DJ.

"Sorry, Joe," the emcee chuckled half-heartedly.

"Nerd," the Korean man whimpered, facing away from his opponent.

"Hmmmmm," Chester purred cheekily, draping his arms across Mike's clothed chest. "I like nerds."

"I'd like it more, if you two would stop," Rob said, cringing at the sight.

"This is dumb," Dave mumbled heatedly, standing up and leaving the room.

"Damn," Chester grunted, leaning away from the emcee.

"What?" Mike asked softly, facing the singer again.

"I wanted us to go out there," the singer mumbled, crossing his arms and pouting.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ *~ *

"Alright, you little bitch," Dave growled, determination blazing in his eyes. "The time has come. It's either now, or never."

Turning on the tv, he then pressed the "power" button. Grinning in satisfaction, he grabbed the player one controller, and sat comfortably on the floor.

"Hey, Pheonix," Chester greeted, sitting down behind the bassist. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Shut up," was the abrupt response. The younger man's eyes were glued to the screen.

"Fine, I get it. Sheesh!" Chester grumbled, reclining in the couch's cushions.

An hour had gone by, and Dave was still towing away through the game. The singer had long gone to sleep. Suddenly, there was a knock on the doorframe.

"Hey, Dave," Mike called, poking his head in. "Have you seen- "

"DO-NOT-DISTURB-THEE!" the bassist shrieked madly, eyes wide and deranged. The shrill noise abruptly startled the snoring singer.

"Wh-wha? Huh?" Chester mumbled, dazed.

"There you are, baby!" Mike squealed, skipping to the man on the couch. He completely ignored the previous outburst.

"If I tell you two bitches to 'shut up', one more time," Dave hissed darkly, entranced by the game, still. Not wanting to catch hell from the crazed gamer, the couple immediately became quiet.

Another half an hour had went by, and Dave was still going. Mike felt compelled by the man's determination and drive. He soon found himself just as fascinated with the game. Suddenly, he felt a tickling sensation on his ear. Startled, he turned to see Chester gently licking his left lobe.

"Chester," Mike hissed, shrugging the other man away. However, the singer continued his ministrations.

"Ooh! Ooh! Watch your backs, biatches!!" Dave called to the monsters. His thumbs viciously pushed the buttons. He was completely unaware of what was going on behind him.

Mike tried hard to concentrate, but Chester's lips were all over his neck and ear. His hands, too, were combing and stroking his red and raven hair.

"Ches," the emcee whined softly, struggling not to give in. "Stop."

"Uh-uh," the singer chuckled.

Realizing he was almost finished with the level that beat him, Dave's gaming turned more vicious.

"You're not gonna get me this time," he mumbled to himself. "I got you bastards right where I want you."

Shooting the last zombie in the head, Dave howled in victory.

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!" he shouted, jumping up, arms high in the air. "YEA! IN YO FACE, BIATCH!"

He then proceeded to dance. This charade, amusingly, consisted of him pumping his fists and pelvic thrusting.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Ye-" He stopped abruptly in shock, when he turned and saw the scene behind him.

Right there on the couch, were his two best friends, Mike and Chester. Their heads were tilted in a total make out session. Both of Mike’s hands were holding the singer’s face; and his right leg was stretched across his lap. Chester’s left arm wrapped around the emcee’s neck; and his hand gently squeezed Mike’s waist. Moans and whispering could be heard between the couple.

“Eeeeeewwww,” Dave mumbled, completely turned off; his arms descending slowly. However, the moment soon passed, and the bassist was back to dancing.

Unbeknownst to the three men, the rest of the band was peeking by the door. Each member had a look of amusement on his face.

“Is anyone aware of how disturbing this looks?” Rob asked, smirking.

“Who cares?” Brad mumbled, shrugging indifferently. “As long as he’s happy.”

“Which one?” Joe querried, chuckling as Dave decided to switch his moves to disco.

“Doe it matter?” Rob asked.

“No,” Brad laughs.

Another minute rolls by.

“How long ‘til you think someone notices?” Joe asked, getting bored.

“GOD, SHUT-THE-FUCK-UP, DAVE, AND GET THE HELL OUT!!!” Chester bellowed, followed by some laughing from Mike.

“Nevermind,” Brad chuckles.

-End-

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well….. I kinda gots nuthin’ to say…. Review, please!! I’m sorry for my absanse… hopefully I’ll get back to the swing of things soon…. ‘til then…!