Crimson_Nails
The Fly
This is my first ever fanfic so I'm sorry if it's crap. It's called Cuatro Amigos because Four Friends sounds lame and I couldn't think of anything more inventive. I'm thinking of doing a series of short funny stories but it depends on the feedback.
Disclaimer: complete bullshit, not true, not even based on fact. Just something from the jungle in my head that rules my heart...
“I’m bored,” stated Bono gloomily.
“Bono, that’s the 5th time you’ve told us that in the last 2 minutes. Find something to occupy yourself or these drumsticks go up where the sun don’t shine,” growled Larry. Looking hurt Bono sidled over to Edge who was restringing his guitar.
“Isn’t that string in the wrong place?” he asked.
“Look,” Edge sighed, “there’s a good reason why I’m a guitarist and you’re a singer. Now quit leaning over, your breath stinks.”
“Need help with that crossword, Adam?”
“No, but I’ve got a job for you, go fetch me a beer from the fridge.” Happy that at last he could do something useful, Bono hurried off to the kitchen. He returned with a can of Guinness in each hand and settled next to Larry, lying on his stomach, eyes fixed on the TV screen.
“Can I have a go on the Playstation?”
“No, I bought the racing game, I’m playing it.”
“Well can I connect the other controls so we can play it together?”
“No, for fuck’s sake, read the flamin’ box! It says ‘One Player Game’ and that ‘One Player’ is me! Now look what you’ve made me do! I’ve crashed and I’ll have to go right back to the bleedin’ beginning!”
“What’s Latin for garden?” came a thoughtful voice from behind the ‘Irish Times’, stopping Larry’s tirade of abuse and making the room go silent.
“I think it’s ‘horto’,” Edge concluded finally, before launching into a long explanation about how Latin is the root of all languages, which no one paid the slightest notice to.
“I’ve got a great idea!” exclaimed Bono. Everyone groaned, knowing that his ‘great ideas’ were usually harebrained schemes, destined to end in disaster.
“Oh God! The last time we carried out one of your ‘great ideas’ the microwave exploded!” retorted Larry.
“No, this is a good one. We should redo the garden; it’s been looking crap for ages.” Adam, mildly interested, put down his paper and looked at Edge.
“Maybe we should do that. It’s sunny and I could do with some exercise.” Larry looked disgusted.
“I am no doing gardening!” he spat the word out, “It’s not exactly macho and I don’t need any exercise!”
“Don’t be so negative, Young Mullen,” taunted Bono, knowing how much Larry hated being called that. Edge flicked through the phone book, looking for the nearest gardening store while Larry and Bono squabbled over who was driving.
“You’ll crash the car and kill us all! Remember your score in my racing game?”
Before Bono could reply, Adam swiftly scooped the keys off the phone table and unlocked the car. Bono and Larry watched with such amusing identical expressions of astonishment, that Edge could barely suppress a grin while adjusting his beanie.
****
Having entered the garden centre, Larry found it hard to hide his amazement.
“I had no idea there were so many flowers you could grow! They’re all pink!”
Bono rushed around madly with a trolley, tossing in as many packets of garishly coloured flowers as he could, while Adam inspected the hammock aisle. Edge was avidly reading the back of a packet and doing calculations for how many watering cans full of water he’d need for 2 packets of flowers.
Once at the checkout they surveyed their purchases: Bono had finally chosen red, pink and orange Pansies, Adam had bought a hammock and a packet of Daisies, Edge was clutching a large packet of Hydrangeas and Larry was the proud owner of some potato seeds.
“Potato seeds?” exclaimed Bono, outraged, “Why would you want to grow those? They won’t look pretty, and you can buy them in the Co-Op down the road!”
“That’s precisely why I got ‘em. I don’t want any girly flowers and you can’t go wrong with an Irish ‘tat’!”
****
“I’m bored,” stated Bono gloomily.
“Bono, that’s the 5th time you’ve told us that in the last 2 minutes…”
“Hang on a minute!” interrupted Edge. “I’m having a bit of déjà vu! We had this same situation exactly a month ago!”
“That was the day I bought a hammock, wasn’t it? We should go and do this gardening thing, otherwise all those seeds will be a waste of money,” suggested Adam. However, the seeds were not to be found. Bono was beginning to despair, but Larry looked triumphed.
“We won’t be able to do this garden rubbish after all. It with be another scheme that falls by the wayside!” Like Newton discovering gravity, Edge smacked his hand on his head.
“I’ve got it!” he shouted and rushed upstairs at top speed. Before even Bono could open his mouth he was back, waking the seed packets.
“They were in my beanie drawer! I put them there ‘cos I knew that if Bono found them he’d go planting them in the middle of the lawn!”
Armed with spades, trowels and the seeds they ventured out into the jungle, A.K.A their garden.
“You know, some people do their gardening naked. I think I’m going to do that!” said Adam.
“Don’t even think about it!” warned Larry gesturing dangerously with a trowel.
Half an hour later:
Bono: “My back hurts, my arms hurt, my legs hurt…”
Edge: “My formula for placing each seed exactly the same distance apart doesn’t work! I
haven’t had this big a problem since Adam super glued my beanie to my head!”
(see caption threads for superglue jokes, trust me, they are hilarious!)
Larry: “I’ve got mud in my nails, my hair gel is melting…it couldn’t possibly get any
worse. Who in their right mind would want the many potatoes anyway?!”
Adam: “I wonder what’s for tea… I should know really…I’m cooking…”
****
The next morning Larry walked into the kitchen to find Edge reading a huge book entitled ‘How to grow Hydrangeas-the easy way’.
“Someone actually gave up some hours of their life to write about flower?!” asked Larry incredulous.
“Yes, it is a fascinating read! You should buy one on potatoes.”
“I know how to grow potatoes. You stick the seeds in the soil, wait a bit, and dig ‘em up. It can’t be any harder than living with Bono!”
“Edge, can you come and help me put up my hammock?” asked Adam from garden. Edge sauntered out and began reading complex instructions that no one else could understand.
“All I need now is a can of beer and some cigarettes and I can relax,” said Adam once they’d finished.
“You relax practically all the time!” joked Edge as they walked back to the house. They were met by a stampede consisting of Bono and Larry racing each other to the hammock. Bono leapt into it, promptly fell out and clambered back in.
“Bono,” yelled Edge from the back door, “there’s someone on the phone asking for Paul Hewson!”
“Tell them to go bother someone else. It’s probably a sunglasses manufacturer. If I’ve told them once I’ve told them a thousand times, I’ve got enough to give a pair to every person on that PLEBA forum you found the other day, and still have some left over!”
“No, it’s the shoe manufacturers wanting to know how high you want the platforms this time.” Before Bono could reply Larry had untied one end of the hammock, causing Bono to end up in a pathetic heap on the grass.
****
“We really should water the plants, you know,” pointed out Edge two days later.
“There’s nothing to water, nothing’s grown,” argued Bono.
“Plants are slow growers, they don’t rush into things, rather like me,” added Adam from behind the ever present newspaper.
“Well I’d make a crap seed, then. You can’t wear sunglasses and what’s the point in sitting in the soil, waiting for something to happen!”
“You’d be one of those really annoying weeds that always come back no matter how much weed killer you put down!2 said Larry, ducking a flying saucer.
“Hey! That was my favourite saucer. It was the one with the lemons on!” Edge complained. Adam, always the peacemaker, intervened:
“Maybe we should go and do this watering. It can’t hurt and I don’t want to be caught in the crossfire of flying crockery!”
“Right,” Edge took over, “there aren’t enough watering cans for one each so we’ll have to take turns.”
“I’m going first! Me! Me!” shouted Bono, jumping up and down. That sorted they trooped out on to the patio where Edge produced a vial of some blue liquid and proceeded to measure some into a watering can. The other three stared perplexed at the can, each other and the can again.
“Edge,” Larry finally asked, “what the hell are you doing?”
“This is a Copper Sulphate solution. If I water my Hydrangeas with it they’ll hopefully turn blue!”
“Wow! That will look so cool with my Pansies!”
“I knew I should have listened in Chemistry. Then I’d know how to turn my Daisies green!” Larry closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face, imagining the clashing colours. The others looked at him expectantly.
“No. I’m not making my potatoes orange, what do you take me for!”
“Well I’m going to get on with this watering, “said Bono, suddenly business like. He filled a can right to the brim and attempted to lift it. His face went red and sweat dripped from his forehead and into his eyes.
“Move out the way, Bono. You need drummer’s arms with big muscles to lift something like that!” boasted Larry, rolling up his sleeves. Adam and Edge started chanting to the tune of ‘Bob the Builder’:
“Larry Mullen! Can he lift it? Larry Mullen! Yes he can!”
Grasping the handle firmly, the well-toned drummer strode across the lawn. He was halfway towards the Pansy patch when the handle snapped off completely, spilling every drop of water on his brand new biker boots. The cursing could be heard for miles around.
“I don’t see why we can’t just use the hosepipe,” mentioned Adam calmly as if he couldn’t see Larry jumping up and down, yelling at the top of his voice.
“Yeah,” said Bono hastily attaching the pipe to the tap.
“You can’t do that! The force of the water might damage the flowers!” protested Edge.
“Oh screw the science for once!” said Bono, armed with the hosepipe. He turned it on and drenched both Edge and Adam.
“You moron!” screamed Edge jumping on top of the singer. “You know how long it takes to dry my beanies!” While those two were wrestling on the ground, Adam reached down, slowly picked up the pipe and gave Larry a shower. The shock of yet more water being deposited on him caused Larry to freeze and stop swearing.
The Cuatro Amigos had a noisy water fight, trampling their horticulture. Once again Bono’s ‘great idea’ went out the window but provided many good memories for future idle days….
Disclaimer: complete bullshit, not true, not even based on fact. Just something from the jungle in my head that rules my heart...
“I’m bored,” stated Bono gloomily.
“Bono, that’s the 5th time you’ve told us that in the last 2 minutes. Find something to occupy yourself or these drumsticks go up where the sun don’t shine,” growled Larry. Looking hurt Bono sidled over to Edge who was restringing his guitar.
“Isn’t that string in the wrong place?” he asked.
“Look,” Edge sighed, “there’s a good reason why I’m a guitarist and you’re a singer. Now quit leaning over, your breath stinks.”
“Need help with that crossword, Adam?”
“No, but I’ve got a job for you, go fetch me a beer from the fridge.” Happy that at last he could do something useful, Bono hurried off to the kitchen. He returned with a can of Guinness in each hand and settled next to Larry, lying on his stomach, eyes fixed on the TV screen.
“Can I have a go on the Playstation?”
“No, I bought the racing game, I’m playing it.”
“Well can I connect the other controls so we can play it together?”
“No, for fuck’s sake, read the flamin’ box! It says ‘One Player Game’ and that ‘One Player’ is me! Now look what you’ve made me do! I’ve crashed and I’ll have to go right back to the bleedin’ beginning!”
“What’s Latin for garden?” came a thoughtful voice from behind the ‘Irish Times’, stopping Larry’s tirade of abuse and making the room go silent.
“I think it’s ‘horto’,” Edge concluded finally, before launching into a long explanation about how Latin is the root of all languages, which no one paid the slightest notice to.
“I’ve got a great idea!” exclaimed Bono. Everyone groaned, knowing that his ‘great ideas’ were usually harebrained schemes, destined to end in disaster.
“Oh God! The last time we carried out one of your ‘great ideas’ the microwave exploded!” retorted Larry.
“No, this is a good one. We should redo the garden; it’s been looking crap for ages.” Adam, mildly interested, put down his paper and looked at Edge.
“Maybe we should do that. It’s sunny and I could do with some exercise.” Larry looked disgusted.
“I am no doing gardening!” he spat the word out, “It’s not exactly macho and I don’t need any exercise!”
“Don’t be so negative, Young Mullen,” taunted Bono, knowing how much Larry hated being called that. Edge flicked through the phone book, looking for the nearest gardening store while Larry and Bono squabbled over who was driving.
“You’ll crash the car and kill us all! Remember your score in my racing game?”
Before Bono could reply, Adam swiftly scooped the keys off the phone table and unlocked the car. Bono and Larry watched with such amusing identical expressions of astonishment, that Edge could barely suppress a grin while adjusting his beanie.
****
Having entered the garden centre, Larry found it hard to hide his amazement.
“I had no idea there were so many flowers you could grow! They’re all pink!”
Bono rushed around madly with a trolley, tossing in as many packets of garishly coloured flowers as he could, while Adam inspected the hammock aisle. Edge was avidly reading the back of a packet and doing calculations for how many watering cans full of water he’d need for 2 packets of flowers.
Once at the checkout they surveyed their purchases: Bono had finally chosen red, pink and orange Pansies, Adam had bought a hammock and a packet of Daisies, Edge was clutching a large packet of Hydrangeas and Larry was the proud owner of some potato seeds.
“Potato seeds?” exclaimed Bono, outraged, “Why would you want to grow those? They won’t look pretty, and you can buy them in the Co-Op down the road!”
“That’s precisely why I got ‘em. I don’t want any girly flowers and you can’t go wrong with an Irish ‘tat’!”
****
“I’m bored,” stated Bono gloomily.
“Bono, that’s the 5th time you’ve told us that in the last 2 minutes…”
“Hang on a minute!” interrupted Edge. “I’m having a bit of déjà vu! We had this same situation exactly a month ago!”
“That was the day I bought a hammock, wasn’t it? We should go and do this gardening thing, otherwise all those seeds will be a waste of money,” suggested Adam. However, the seeds were not to be found. Bono was beginning to despair, but Larry looked triumphed.
“We won’t be able to do this garden rubbish after all. It with be another scheme that falls by the wayside!” Like Newton discovering gravity, Edge smacked his hand on his head.
“I’ve got it!” he shouted and rushed upstairs at top speed. Before even Bono could open his mouth he was back, waking the seed packets.
“They were in my beanie drawer! I put them there ‘cos I knew that if Bono found them he’d go planting them in the middle of the lawn!”
Armed with spades, trowels and the seeds they ventured out into the jungle, A.K.A their garden.
“You know, some people do their gardening naked. I think I’m going to do that!” said Adam.
“Don’t even think about it!” warned Larry gesturing dangerously with a trowel.
Half an hour later:
Bono: “My back hurts, my arms hurt, my legs hurt…”
Edge: “My formula for placing each seed exactly the same distance apart doesn’t work! I
haven’t had this big a problem since Adam super glued my beanie to my head!”
(see caption threads for superglue jokes, trust me, they are hilarious!)
Larry: “I’ve got mud in my nails, my hair gel is melting…it couldn’t possibly get any
worse. Who in their right mind would want the many potatoes anyway?!”
Adam: “I wonder what’s for tea… I should know really…I’m cooking…”
****
The next morning Larry walked into the kitchen to find Edge reading a huge book entitled ‘How to grow Hydrangeas-the easy way’.
“Someone actually gave up some hours of their life to write about flower?!” asked Larry incredulous.
“Yes, it is a fascinating read! You should buy one on potatoes.”
“I know how to grow potatoes. You stick the seeds in the soil, wait a bit, and dig ‘em up. It can’t be any harder than living with Bono!”
“Edge, can you come and help me put up my hammock?” asked Adam from garden. Edge sauntered out and began reading complex instructions that no one else could understand.
“All I need now is a can of beer and some cigarettes and I can relax,” said Adam once they’d finished.
“You relax practically all the time!” joked Edge as they walked back to the house. They were met by a stampede consisting of Bono and Larry racing each other to the hammock. Bono leapt into it, promptly fell out and clambered back in.
“Bono,” yelled Edge from the back door, “there’s someone on the phone asking for Paul Hewson!”
“Tell them to go bother someone else. It’s probably a sunglasses manufacturer. If I’ve told them once I’ve told them a thousand times, I’ve got enough to give a pair to every person on that PLEBA forum you found the other day, and still have some left over!”
“No, it’s the shoe manufacturers wanting to know how high you want the platforms this time.” Before Bono could reply Larry had untied one end of the hammock, causing Bono to end up in a pathetic heap on the grass.
****
“We really should water the plants, you know,” pointed out Edge two days later.
“There’s nothing to water, nothing’s grown,” argued Bono.
“Plants are slow growers, they don’t rush into things, rather like me,” added Adam from behind the ever present newspaper.
“Well I’d make a crap seed, then. You can’t wear sunglasses and what’s the point in sitting in the soil, waiting for something to happen!”
“You’d be one of those really annoying weeds that always come back no matter how much weed killer you put down!2 said Larry, ducking a flying saucer.
“Hey! That was my favourite saucer. It was the one with the lemons on!” Edge complained. Adam, always the peacemaker, intervened:
“Maybe we should go and do this watering. It can’t hurt and I don’t want to be caught in the crossfire of flying crockery!”
“Right,” Edge took over, “there aren’t enough watering cans for one each so we’ll have to take turns.”
“I’m going first! Me! Me!” shouted Bono, jumping up and down. That sorted they trooped out on to the patio where Edge produced a vial of some blue liquid and proceeded to measure some into a watering can. The other three stared perplexed at the can, each other and the can again.
“Edge,” Larry finally asked, “what the hell are you doing?”
“This is a Copper Sulphate solution. If I water my Hydrangeas with it they’ll hopefully turn blue!”
“Wow! That will look so cool with my Pansies!”
“I knew I should have listened in Chemistry. Then I’d know how to turn my Daisies green!” Larry closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face, imagining the clashing colours. The others looked at him expectantly.
“No. I’m not making my potatoes orange, what do you take me for!”
“Well I’m going to get on with this watering, “said Bono, suddenly business like. He filled a can right to the brim and attempted to lift it. His face went red and sweat dripped from his forehead and into his eyes.
“Move out the way, Bono. You need drummer’s arms with big muscles to lift something like that!” boasted Larry, rolling up his sleeves. Adam and Edge started chanting to the tune of ‘Bob the Builder’:
“Larry Mullen! Can he lift it? Larry Mullen! Yes he can!”
Grasping the handle firmly, the well-toned drummer strode across the lawn. He was halfway towards the Pansy patch when the handle snapped off completely, spilling every drop of water on his brand new biker boots. The cursing could be heard for miles around.
“I don’t see why we can’t just use the hosepipe,” mentioned Adam calmly as if he couldn’t see Larry jumping up and down, yelling at the top of his voice.
“Yeah,” said Bono hastily attaching the pipe to the tap.
“You can’t do that! The force of the water might damage the flowers!” protested Edge.
“Oh screw the science for once!” said Bono, armed with the hosepipe. He turned it on and drenched both Edge and Adam.
“You moron!” screamed Edge jumping on top of the singer. “You know how long it takes to dry my beanies!” While those two were wrestling on the ground, Adam reached down, slowly picked up the pipe and gave Larry a shower. The shock of yet more water being deposited on him caused Larry to freeze and stop swearing.
The Cuatro Amigos had a noisy water fight, trampling their horticulture. Once again Bono’s ‘great idea’ went out the window but provided many good memories for future idle days….
