Aw crap.
Someone stole Nikki Sixx's hairspray.
In a frantic attempt to find it, he drags his band and Guns N' Roses along.
Who knows who took it? Not me.
I mean, we do know whoever did it isn't very bright.
And for some reason not to my knowledge, e...
"STOP LAUGHING!" Vince pushed Tommy, who was now on his feet and still giggling maniacally, "It's not that funny, anyways."
"FOCUS ON THE KEY!" Nikki yelled, he held the emerald key in the air, "Look for the keyhole."
"Alright, fine, don't get your panties in a bunch." Tommy muttered.
"They actually are in a bunch, thank you very much."
"Eww." The other three chimed in unison.
"And I'll only take them off for Vince." He slowly wrapped his arm around the flustered singer, who didn't know what to say.
"I'll do anything for you." Nikki tried to say seductively (he failed), he kissed Vince on the cheek passionately.
Vince babbled some nonsense and seemed to depend on Nikki to keep him standing.
"Tonight," Nikki whispered in Vince's ear just loud enough for Mick and Tommy to hear, "I'm in love with you, baby. Tonight, tonight, tonight, be mine tonight."
"Gah..." Vince slurred while Mick and Tommy watched carefully.
"He's doing that because there's no blood left in his brain." Tommy quietly said and Mick practically snorted trying to contain his laughter.
Without another word, Nikki moved Vince's hand to touch his...uh...y'know, assets made out of balloons. Vince accidentally popped one. It scared Mick so much he let out a girly little scream.
"WHAT'S HAPPENING?!" Vince snapped out of his Nikki trance.
"Oh, guess I'm a guy again." Nikki casually spoke while he popped the other balloon under his dress, "Oh, it's the keyhole."
The other three exchanged concerned and confused glances, as the unfazed bassist paced over to the lock. It was inside one of the strange indents in the walls. He jammed the key into the lock and twisted it. The stone the lock was embedded in, began to rise up, making way for Nikki to discover the strange object inside.
"What's this?" He slowly lifted it out, another box, this one as equally lavish but donning four reels contains numbers two through eight. Nikki ran his thumb over one of the reels and it spun to the next number, "We need a combination."
"Hey, can we get outta here, we're probably running out of oxygen." Tommy interrupted.
Later that day, Nikki was laying on the couch. Or should I say Feme-Nikki is laying on the couch, he was wearing short-shorts shorter than the space between atoms, a jean jacket and the same bra he's been wearing for days. He kinda looks like one of the girls who used to grind up against Vince in the middle of a show. But that's just a coincidence. No it's not. That's exactly what Nikki wants to do.
Like, (How do I describe this?) he looks like a—he looks like this, who am I kidding?
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Just without fluffy hair though. No hairspray. That's why this whole ordeal exists.
And since he takes up the whole couch, Tommy sat exiled on the floor with a bag of potato chips in his lap and crumbs on his shirt.
Vince and Mick were in the kitchen, trying to figure out if Vince would be able to get Tommy's girl.
"I could hit that". Vince whispered, just of of earshot of Tommy and his "girlfriend."
"Sure..." Mick looked at him like he was ridiculous.
Turns out Tommy could hear everything.
"Dude, Vince thinks you're hot." Tommy alerted Nikki, "He thinks you're a girl."
"Sure? What's that supposed to mean?" Vince crossed his arms, "You know what? Watch this."
Vince crawled across the floor, for some reason, and quickly asked Tommy if he was serious with the girl.
"I don't care." Tommy didn't make eye contact with Vince so not to allow him to discover his plot.
"Oh, so you think I'm hot?" Nikki sat up and struck a pose.
"NIKKI?!" Vince nearly leapt out of his skin.
Mick and Tommy laughed wickedly.
"What just happened?" Vince looked Nikki up and down out of sheer confusion.
"Oh, I know you'll break eventually. You can't resist me." Nikki gently ran two fingers under Vince's chin before parading up the stairs in the high heels he was wearing.
"Has he always had an ass like that?" Vince looked down at Tommy who was giggling at his remark.
"This just gets better and better." He said with his mouth full.
"This is the greatest thing that's happened in my entire life." Mick laughed.
The next day, Nikki was staring intensely at the box he'd found while wearing another skimpy girly outfit to catch Vince's eye. Earlier, he found golden letters screwed to the bottom of the box reading "What are you four?" He repeated the question to himself repeatedly.
"Would you shut up." Tommy spat.
"What are we, Tommy?" Nikki asked rhetorically, "And I feel like it has to be four letters. Like each letter corresponds to the numbers on a keypad on a phone."
"Well, all four of us are male, dumb, uh, human beings, existing, living, breathing, existing entities in an ever-expanding universe that was put down the path of time to force this very moment into reality." Tommy looked down at his hands, "That we are the sum of everything that's ever happened. That we are real, we are alive, and that will all come to and end, and we will become what is most feared. Dead."
"Stop being deep and poetic and help me figure this out." Nikki continued to shift the reels, "Also male and dumb didn't work. Tried it while you were babbling."
"Well, we're Mötley Crüe. And a motley crew. Try both and see what happens."
"Okay, so, c-r-u-e, two, seven, eight, three." Nikki mumbled. After the numbers were in their place, small mechanisms inside the box began to click. The code worked.
Is is weird that I'm proud that I wrote Tommy's short monologue about the combination.
