"What's wrong?" Justin asked Lance, who was searching frantically through his purse--uh, 'carry-all'.

"I can't find my peach-blossom eyeshadow!" Lance cried, "And we're on in ten minutes! What am I going to do?"

"You can borrow some of my Honeysuckle shadow," JC offered, "They're almost the same shade."

"I can't!" Lance held up his lip gloss, "I'm using Delicate Rose on my lips. Honeysuckle and Delicate Rose? I think not!"

"Yhea," Chris agreed, "That's like...two worlds colliding."

"I think we should add a part to our show where I have a drum solo." Joey said.

"What?" Justin looked at Joey, "Where'd that come from?"

Joey shrugged, "I was just thinking...you have that beatboxing solo thing...why shouldn't I get a drum solo?"

"Cause you suck." Chris reminded him, "And no one wants to listen to that shit."

"Like Justin's beatboxing is great entertainment." Joey scowled, "And I don't suck. You're just jealous."

"Oh, you caught me." Chris rolled his eyes, "I'm so fucking jealous that you play the drums and I don't. It haunts me. I can't sleep at night."

"You are jealous." Joey insisted, "You're jealous cause I play the drums and all you play is the skin lute."

"Isn't the expression 'skin flute'?" Justin asked.

"Hello!" Lance yelled, "People! I'm going through a crisis here! I have to find an eyeshadow that won't clash! Somebody help me, damnit!"

"Okay, everyone just quiet down," JC put up his hands, "Let's all just calm the fuck down, okay?" He looked at Lance, "Lance, go ask one of the make-up ladies if they have any Peach Blossom. I know you're going to say you don't want to use it if it's not your favorite brand, but beggers can't be choosers."

JC turned to Joey, "Joey, Chris is right. No one wants to listen to you play the drums. You suck."

Chris smirked at Joey, but then JC said, "Chris, wipe that smug expression off your damn face. No one wants to listen to you do anything, either."

"And, Justin, you're right, the expression is skin flute." JC rubbed his hands together, "Okay. Problems solved. Score one for the C-man."

"I'm the C-man." Chris said.

JC frowned "Well, then what am I? I can't be the J-man...that's Justin."

"I'm the J-man!" Joey protested.

"Does that make me the L-man?" Lance wondered.

"You can be Jimmy Crack Corn and I don't care," Justin told him, "just go find a fucking make-up lady and get your damn eyeshadow. We're on in five."

"I love make-up ladies," Lance smiled,"they always gush over my beautiful green eyes."

Joey snorted, "Beautiful green eyes my a--"

"Okay, stop right there." JC interrupted, "No fighting."

"No fighting?" Chris laughed, "That'll last."

"I've had enough of your smart-ass comments for today, Chris." JC glared at the short, stumpy leprechaun, "Don't make me make you shut up."

Chris quirked an eyebrow, but backed down. He went to Justin and whispered, "Can I borrow your cell?"

"For what?" Justin asked, checking his teeth in the mirror to make sure he didn't have anything stuck in them.

"I wanna call the proctologist and get JC an appointment to have that stick removed from his ass." Chris said.

"What was that?" JC stepped up behind Chris.

"This is a hotdog and hamburger conversation," Chris tried to sound unintimidated, "Get your buns out of here."

"I'm the hotdog." Justin claimed quickly.

Chris turned to the him huffily, "Why do you get to be the hotdog? You always get to be the good stuff."

"Like when?" Justin asked, "You mean cause I got to be Luke Skywalker?"

"Yhea, and JC got Hans Solo, and Joey got Chewbacca, and Lance is Princess Laia, so I had to be Yoda." Chris complained, "And with 'Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure'. You got to be Ted, and I had to be Bill."

"No, I'm Bill." JC said.

"Yhea," Justin agreed, "He's Bill."

"Then who am I?" Chris whined.