The Space Adventures of Brendon Urie and His Astronomically Large Forehead

6

Once upon a time, it was two in the morning at Brendon Urie's apartment. Suddenly, the Ryan-cell rang. As it did every single freaking episode. 'Cheez whiz. Cheez whiz.'

Immediately his forehead picked up the phone with its tractor beam. "Hello?" Brendon heard a faint voice on the other end of the line.

His forehead screamed louder than 23 screaming frogs. "OH EM GEE, JOSH DUN JUST CALLED ME AND ASKED ME TO BE HIS FRIEND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Brendon groaned, hand over his eyes. "At two in the morning?"

"Don't question the motives of our drumming lord and savior," his forehead retorted. Brendon didn't know how to respond to that, so he just tried to fall asleep again while his forehead blabbed on the phone with Josh Dun for three hours straight.

Finally, Brendon woke up again. It was morning. His forehead was madly texting Josh Dun with its nonexistent thumbs.

"Can't you let it be for like ten minutes?" Brendon asked. His forehead didn't respond. It was too busy texting. Brendon made some coffee, because he felt like a dead slug that had been hit by a truck four times.

Suddenly, the door to the apartment broke open. Standing there was a smol bean with a red beanie and some black tattoos.

Brendon held out the coffeepot to the bean, deciding to be polite. "Coffee?"

The bean cutely stormed up to Brendon and smacked his forehead as hard as he could, making the forehead drop the Ryan-cell in surprise and pain. "OW! What was that for?!"

The bean glared at the forehead, and pointed threateningly at it. "GIT UR OWN FREN!" Then he stormed back out the door as abruptly and adorably as he'd arrived.

Brendon picked up the Ryan-cell and deleted Josh Dun from his contacts. "Sorry, forehead. No more drooms for you. It's hazardous to your health."