Travelling Wilburys Oneshots

Runaway

"We're going bloody fishing!" Bob roared, and they laughed harder.

Soon enough, they'd arrived at the harbour. They'd somehow managed to get the boat in the water, but now there was the challenge of starting it. 

And there were other challenges, too.

"George, d'ya have any food?" Roy said.

"Uh-"

"You didn't pack any food?" Jeff, Roy, Bob, and Tom said in unison.

"Well, I did."

"Where is it, then?" Jeff demanded.

"Well, it's in the cooler in the back of the car," George said- "But before you go, I gotta tell you something."

"What?"

"I packed... canned tomatoes."

"What the hell?" Tom was the first to say.

"Well, I thought I packed beans, but it was tomatoes," George answered helplessly. 

After a long pause, Bob was the first to say, "Well, I guess we're eating tomatoes for breakfast, then."

They were about to burst into laughter once more, but they stopped when they heard the turning of engines and the silent sputtering of water.

"We got the boat to work!" Tom cheered, and the others followed.

They all boarded the boat and eventually George figured out how to work the steering wheel. 

"George, why the heck are we on a boat?" Roy asked, popping open a can of tomatoes.

George turned the steering wheel a little, and the boat rocked. "Because we're the Traveling Wilburys, that's why."

They couldn't resist smiling at that.

******

"Hey George?"

"Yeah, Jeff?"

"I feel sick." Jeff was clutching his stomach.

"It's boat sickness. You'll be fine."

"George, I feel like throwing up."

"Throw up, then."

Jeff was panicking. "Where?"

"Over the side of the boat."

"Wait, I have a plastic bag that you can-" Roy said, but it was too late- Jeff was keeling over the side of the boat.

"George?"

"Yeah, Bob?"

"Where are we?"

"In the middle of the ocean."

"In the middle of the ocean where?"

George sighed. "I don't know."

"George?"

"What's up, Tom?"

"We're lost."

"We- we're not lost," George stammered, "We're just in the middle of nowhere."

Silence. Then, Bob. "George, do you have a map?"

George shook his head. "Nope."

Silence again. Then George again. "We're lost."

"We know," the rest of them chorused.

"While we're here, we might as well tell each other our deep and dark secrets," said Tom, but the idea was quickly vetoed.

"While we're here, we might as well go back because I feel sick," Jeff groaned. He was propped up against the side of the boat, trying to fight the nausea.

"Which way did we come from?" Tom wondered aloud.

"It was that way, I think," Bob pointed to the right.

"No, no, it was the left," Roy argued.

"Maybe it was the other way," Tom suggested.

"Hurry..." Jeff groaned, and then stood back up and keeled over the side of the boat once more.

"Sorry, Jeff," George said. "I'm pretty positive it was that way," he continued, pointing to the direction behind them.

"No, you're all wrong," Jeff said. "It was that way."

"George, listen to me. It was right," Bob repeated.

"No way, it was the left!"

"The other way, the other way!"

George rolled his eyes. "All right, I say we go with Jeff's choice, because he's the only one who's not arguing with everybody."

"We're gonna die..." Tom moaned, falling back against the bench.

George steered the boat in the direction that Jeff had pointed out. It took forever, but soon enough they could see land.

"Land ho!" Roy cheered.

Tom, Bob, and Jeff, who had long since fallen asleep, looked over at what Roy was pointing at. 

"It could be a dangerous tropical island," Tom said somberly.

"Or it could be our van," Bob pointed out. Sure enough, there was The Traveling Wilburys Van.

"We made it!" They all cheered at once as George pulled the boat in.

"So, how about another adventure?" George suggested as he helped the others out of the boat.

"No," they said firmly.

George glanced at his watch. "I think we have enough time for a-" He stopped in his tracks and looked at his watch again. "It's almost lunchtime!"

"Holy shite, the wife's gonna kill me!" Tom squeaked, clambering into the backseat. The others piled in hurriedly after him, and they ended going out on the highway at the speed of sound.

Ladies and gentlemen, The Traveling Wilburys. 

Me: Boy, what the hell was that?

George: It's a oneshot that you wrote in twenty minutes.

Me: Shut up, George. Our readers want quality. They don't want the truth.

George: *muttering* Pfft, quality, yeah.

Me: Huh?

George: Nothing, nothing at all.

Me: Anyway, while I kick George out of the room, I'm going to take this opportunity to ask you guys whether you like little oneshots like these. Thanks for reading!