The Setting: The My Chemical Romance tour bus, somewhere in the middle of the US of A on the 1012th consecutive day of touring to promote the Black Parade album.
So what is that, Kansas?
Kansas it is, then.
We find them all huddled in the middle of the bus. Ray and Bob are playing a video game. Mikey is straightening his hair. Frank is reading a Hustler magazine. The usual.
In walks Gerard and stands in the middle of them.
Gerard (clears his throat): Excuse me, guys.
No one even looks up.
Gerard: Guys, I have an announcement to make.
Still, no one looks up.
Gerard (stomps his foot): Guys, this is really important!
Not even a twitch.
Gerard (whines): Bob!
Bob: Guys, pay attention to Gerard.
Everyone immediately stops what they’re doing and looks at Gerard.
Gerard: Thanks, Bob. (Pauses) Ahem. Anyway . . . Maybe some of you guys have noticed that I’ve been a little bit moody lately? Prone to some crying jags, some angry outbursts . . .
Frank rubs the spot on his arm where Gerard bit him only two days ago for calling him an old man.
Frank (mutters): Violent fits . . .
Gerard: But I finally know what’s been causing everything and I wanted to share the news with my four best friends in the world.
Everyone stares at him blankly.
Gerard (beaming): Guys, I’m pregnant.
Everyone stares at him for a moment before going back to what they were doing before.
Silence. Except for the beeps of the video game.
Bob: Guys, pay attention to Gerard again.
Everyone drops what they were doing and turns back to Gerard.
Frank (sighs): Ok, who wants to start? Should I?
Everyone looks at Frank expectantly.
Frank: Ok. Gerard, you’re essentially a dude. Sometimes a little girly, but essentially a dude. And dudes don’t get pregnant. It’s not possible.
Gerard whips out three different pregnancy tests.
Gerard: Oh yeah? Tell that to EPT. Tell that to First Response. Tell that to ClearBlue Easy. Tell that to the Planned Parenthood Clinic. All positive!
Frank: You went to Planned Parenthood? How are you not locked up in some science lab right now?
Gerard (blushes): I put on a dress and eyeliner and they fell for it.
Frank (is quiet for a minute): Yeah, I got nothing. Who’s next?
Mikey: I’ll take it. Ok, Gerard. I guess the next question here is - who’s the father?
Gerard sits down on an empty seat.
Gerard: Well, at first I thought it was Frank cause, you know, we do it all the time.
Everyone stares at Frank, who’s looking down at the ground like he wants it to open up and swallow him alive.
Frank: It’s called discretion, Gerard.
Gerard: But then I figured it was Mikey, cause him and I do it a lot too. Just not as much as me and Frank.
Everyone stares at Mikey.
Frank: Ew . . .
Mikey: What? My brother’s a ho and he’s giving out free samples. You don’t think I’m gonna get a little bit of that free milk?
Bob: Dude, I don’t even know what that means, but . . . that’s just gotta be wrong.
Gerard continues as if no one else is talking.
Gerard: Then I thought it might be Bob. We don’t do it all that often, but when we do . . . he rocks my world.
Everyone stares at Bob.
Bob: Right back at ya, Gee.
Gerard: Then there’s Ray. (Gets a dreamy look on his face) Who can forget all those nights at the rest stops, making love in the bushes next to all the other gay couples?
Ray: Gerard, do the words, ‘take it to the grave’ mean anything to you?
Gerard: You’re kidding, right?
Mikey: So what you’re basically saying is that you’re the band slut and any one of us could be the father?
Gerard (frowns): When you put it that way, it sounds so . . . gauche.
Mikey: Mom would be so disappointed.
Frank: Ok, people. I think the most important question we need to ask is: Gerard, when are you going to . . . you know . . . get rid of it?
Gerard stands up, a protective hand over his stomach, looking shocked.
Gerard: What? Are you insane? I have a life growing inside of me! A human life that I will nurture and love and support! Besides . . . I can mine this for song ideas! Imagine the possibilities. Almost endless, really.
At that, everyone turns toward Bob.
Mikey: Bob . . .
Bob: Yeah, ok. Um . . . Gerard. Reality check time. Last time I was down there, I didn’t notice a vagina.
Frank starts to giggle insanely.
Bob: So you see the problem.
Frank (still giggling): He said vagina.
Bob: Frank, don’t make me come over there.
Frank quiets down.
Gerard: Dude, C-section. Duh!
Bob looks at Frank.
Frank: Yeah, I got nothing.
Gerard: Anyway. I just wanted to share this wonderful news with you, because, you know, I love you guys. And this way it gives you time to plan me a really good baby shower. And I wanted to see if any one of you was willing to make an honest man out of me.
Bob, Mikey, Ray and Frank: Huh?
Gerard: Marry me, idiots. I won’t have this baby be illegitimate. Plus I already have the ring. On the right finger even.
Frank: Dude, no can do. I’m engaged. To a female.
Gerard (crosses his arms): But you’ll have sex with me?
Frank (shrugs): Dude, you’re easy and I’m always horny.
Mikey: Well, you know I can’t do it. One - I’m already married. Two - you’re my brother. And three - well, I’ll have to think about three. But it’ll be a damned good reason.
Bob: No can do, G-Man. You can’t tie someone like me down. I’m too bad-ass.
Gerard turns toward Ray, a sad yet hopeful look on his face.
Ray stands up.
Ray: Yeah, I’ll do it.
Gerard throws himself on Ray, wrapping his arms around him.
Gerard: Oh thank you!
Ray: Well, I figure I oughtta do right by you. You know . . . the one in a thousand chance that this is my child.
Gerard pulls away, looking slightly hurt.
Ray (rolls his eyes): And you know . . . I love you and all that shit.
Gerard jumps back in his arms, gives him a big kiss.
Frank: Ugh. This is too sick for words. Can I go back to my Hustler now?
Gerard: You guys can go back to whatever you were doing.
Bob: Ray? We gonna finish the game?
Ray (wraps his arm around Gerard’s waist): Nah, I think my fiancé and I are gonna have some alone time.
Gerard: Oh, Ray.
Ray (yelling toward the front of the bus): Hey, dude! Find us a rest stop somewhere! And make it a nice one! My woman . . . I mean my man . . . I mean . . . Gerard and I have some celebrating to do!
The Setting: The My Chemical Romance tour bus, three days after the last installment. Bob, Mikey and Frank are hanging out, resting after a particularly grueling session of Guitar Hero II.
And yes, they’re still in Kansas.
Mikey: Hey guys, I’m getting kind of sick of Kansas. Do you think we’ll ever get to play in another state?
Frank: Blame your brother. He’s the one that decided we should play in every town with more than 10,000 people. Speaking of which, where are we playing tonight?
Mikey: The county fair. Right after the pie eating contest.
Frank: Bob, can’t you do something about that? Seriously?
Bob: I could but . . . that might just be considered a misuse of my power.
Frank: Are you kidding? Getting us out of Kansas might be the best thing your powers ever did.
At that moment, Gerard and Ray walk onto the bus. Gerard is holding a huge plastic shopping bag in his hands.
Gerard: Hey, guys!
Mikey, Frank, Bob: Hey.
Frank: Where have you two been all day? And don’t tell me you were at the rest stop again. I just had lunch.
Gerard: Tell them, Ray.
Ray: Well, we-
Gerard: We went to the local bookstore, got recognized and almost got gang-banged and torn apart.
Mikey (shrugs): So, a typical outing.
Gerard: Yeah, but look at what we managed to buy before we got assaulted.
Gerard turns the bag over, dumping out a pile of books and magazines onto a table.
Frank: What are those?
Gerard: Tell him, Ray.
Ray: Well, they’re-
Gerard: They’re bridal magazines. And pregnancy books. I want to make sure that I do everything right.
Frank: Bridal magazines? Gerard, you do know you’re a man, right?
Gerard: Don’t be an idiot. I’m just looking through them for ideas. You know, Ray, I’ve always wanted to have a themed wedding. How do you feel about a zombie vampire assassin wedding?
Ray is so shocked that he’s actually getting to speak that he almost doesn’t know what to say.
Ray: Um . . . whatever you want, precious?
Gerard: Exactly. Anyway, we’ve got to get a move on with the wedding, I want to have it before I start to show.
Mikey: You mean before you get fat.
Gerard (gasps): Did you just say the f word?
Gerard turns to Ray.
Gerard (sounding a little hysterical): Am I fat now? Did he say I’m fat? Am I fat, Ray???!!!
Mikey: No, I said you’re going to get fat.
Gerard wails and claps his hands to his ears.
Gerard: He said it again!
Ray: Bob, a little help here.
Bob: Mikey, don’t make me come over there.
Mikey (sulking): Sorry, Bob. Sorry, Gerard.
Gerard: Is it true, Ray? Am I gonna get . . . you know . . . that horrible word that I can’t say?
Ray: Of course not, baby. You’re going to gain a few pounds and get a little round, but millions of preteen girls the world over will still worship you.
Gerard (smiles brightly): And everyone on the bus will still want to do me?
Ray: Don’t we always?
Gerard: Yeah, that’s right. Cause I’m Gerard fucking Way, bitches! So suck on that, Mikey!
Mikey (rolls his eyes): Ego much?
Frank, who has been quietly flipping through one of the pregnancy books this entire time, looks up.
Frank: Hey, according to this book, you’re in the trimester where you puke all the time.
Gerard: I am?
Frank: Yup. Morning sickness. Except it’s not really morning sickness. It can happen all the time. Any time.
Gerard: Any time?
Frank: Yeah. Wow, that’s gotta suck. Not being able to keep anything down. Any little thing you eat making you feel like you’re going to hurl.
Gerard sits down, putting a hand on his stomach.
Gerard: Any little thing?
Ray: You all right, babe? You look a little paler than usual.
Frank: It says even the smell of food can make you nauseous. Or even just thinking about food.
Gerard stands up, hand at his mouth.
Gerard: I’m going to go throw up now.
Frank starts to giggle as Gerard runs to the bathroom.
A minute later the sounds of retching can be heard throughout the bus.
Mikey: Damn, this is just like the old days.
Frank starts laughing insanely.
Ray: That wasn’t very nice, Frank.
Frank: I know. But it was still pretty fucking great.
Gerard (yelling from the bathroom): I need somebody to hold my hand and stroke my hair lovingly! So somebody needs to get their ass in here now!
Mikey: Man, you couldn’t pay me enough to go in there.
Ray: I’ll go. I am his fiancé.
Bob: Actually, I think Frank should go.
Frank stops laughing.
Bob: You did this.
Frank: Yeah, but . . .
Bob: Don’t make me get up, Frank. You know what happens when I have to move.
Frank stands and makes his way to the bathroom.
Frank (grumbling): This is so unfair. It was funny, damn it.
Gerard (still yelling from the bathroom): Hair! Lovingly! Now, people!
Frank (yells): I’m coming! Hold your horses!
Mikey: I take it that’s not considered a misuse of your power.
Bob: It would be considered misuse if I hadn’t done it.
Two days later . . .
Gerard is laying down on his bunk. Ray is sitting beside him. Stroking his hair. Lovingly.
Gerard: I’m dying.
Ray: You’re not dying.
Gerard: I’ve been puking for two days straight, Ray. I’m dying. This is my black parade.
Ray looks around.
Ray: A stinky tour bus in the middle of Kansas?
Gerard: Don’t mock me, Ray.
Ray: Why don’t you have some more ginger ale?
Gerard: I don’t want any more ginger ale! I’ve had so much of it, I’ve got it coming out of my ass!
Ray: Now there’s an interesting visual.
Gerard: I want a cigarette.
Ray: You can’t have any.
Gerard (moans): Oh God. No one told me pregnancy was going to be so hard!
Ray: What you need is a distraction. Something to take your mind off how shitty you’re feeling.
Ray discreetly turns and sprays Binaca in his mouth.
Gerard (talking mostly to himself): Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I could use my superior song writing skills to write a song about this. I could call it Regurgitation.
Ray starts to unfasten his pants, not even listening.
Ray: Uh huh. Yeah.
Gerard: Ray, what are you doing?
Ray: Um . . . offering a distraction?
Gerard: With sex?
Ray: Um . . . yeah?
Gerard: Ugh! You men sicken me.
Ray: Gerard, you’re a ma-
Gerard: Just go get me my notebook and a pen. I think I’ve got our next single.
Ray buttons his pants and walks away moping.
Gerard (calls after him): And don’t forget the ginger ale!
The Setting: The My Chemical Romance tour bus. Five months into the miracle pregnancy. Or as Ray likes to call it, the pregnancy from hell.
But before we begin - a little background to catch us all up. Ray and Gerard were indeed married. The ceremony took place in a graveyard under a full moon. The groom wore black, white pancake makeup and a hell of a lot of eyeliner. The other groom wore black as well. And drank a hell of a lot of champagne.
They followed the wedding with a brief honeymoon at the local Motel 6. Two days later, at Gerard’s insistence, the tour resumed, albeit with a much changed frontman.
Gerard no longer bounces around the stage. Now he simply sits on a chair and yells, “Jump, you lazy motherfuckers.” He’s also prone to crying fits on stage, especially if any of the above-mentioned lazy motherfuckers decides not to jump.
And now that we’re all on the same page - back to the tour bus.
Gerard is reading through a baby name book while Ray rubs his feet. Mikey is surfing the internet on his laptop for a new blow-up doll since his last one exploded from overuse. Bob is having alone time in his bunk. Frank is nowhere to be found.
Ray: Gee, my hands are cramping, I’ve gotta take a break.
Gerard: Excuse me? I’m carrying your baby here! I’m the one going through the horror that is pregnancy – the bathroom trips, the vomiting, the sciatic nerve, the indigestion. The least you can do is rub my feet!
Ray: Actually, we don’t even know if it’s mine, remember?
Gerard rubs his belly, smiling down at it serenely.
Gerard: Don’t listen to him, sweetie. Your mommy was not a slut. Mommy just liked to experiment.
It’s at this moment that Frank wanders onto the bus, looking around with narrowed eyes.
Frank: I just want you all to know that I hate each and every one of you.
Frank walks past them into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.
Gerard: Wow, what’s his problem?
Mikey: I think he’s getting a little sick of being on tour.
Frank opens the door and pops his head out.
Frank: Hate with the intensity of a thousand burning suns.
Frank disappears behind the door again.
Ray (worriedly): Gerard? Are you all right?
Gerard: Oh yeah. I know he doesn’t mean me. No one could hate me.
Frank pops his head back out.
Frank: Especially you, Gerard.
Frank pops back into the bathroom.
Gerard stares at the closed door a moment, lower lip quivering.
Ray: Aw man. Somebody help me! Bob, help me!
Bob (from behind the curtain of his bunk): A little busy here!
Gerard: He hates me. He really, really hates me.
Mikey: He hates you, Gerard.
Gerard bursts into tears.
Bob comes out of the bunk, disheveled and sweaty.
Bob: Now what did you go and do that for?
Mikey: I’m his brother - I’m supposed to mess with him. Besides, thanks to him and his stupid male bonding rules, I haven’t seen my wife in almost two years. He deserved it.
Bob: I see.
Mikey (shrugs): And I was bored.
Bob: You realize I’m going to have to beat you down for this, right? I hadn’t even gotten to the centerfold yet.
Mikey: Yeah, and it was still worth it.
Gerard continues to cry hysterically while Ray attempts to soothe him.
Ray: He didn’t mean it. No one hates you. We love you.
Gerard continues to cry.
Ray: We worship you. You are glue that holds us together.
Gerard continues to cry.
Bob: Tell him he’s the sun in the center of our universe.
Ray: You’ve gotta be kidding.
Bob: Just do it. He’s giving me a headache.
Ray: You’re the sun in the center of our universe.
Gerard stops crying.
Ray: Of course.
Gerard picks up the baby book again.
Bob: Wow, these moods swings are scary.
Mikey: That’s nothing. You should have seen him when he hit puberty.
Gerard: What do you think of the name Damien?
Ray: From the Omen? Um . . . no.
Gerard: Fine. What about Malachi?
Ray: What’s that from?
Gerard: Children of the Corn.
Ray: Ok, first of all, we aren’t naming a child after someone evil in a horror movie. And secondly . . . the baby’s a girl.
Gerard: What’s your point?
Ray (with infinite patience): Those are not good names for a girl.
Gerard: What about Michael? Or Jason? They could be girl’s names.
Gerard thinks for a minute.
Frank walks back out of the bathroom.
Gerard: Hey, Frankie, since you’re up – can you make me a sandwich? With extra pickles, extra cheese, extra peanut butter and extra honey?
Frank: What part of I hate you did you not understand?
Gerard’s lower lip begins to quiver again.
Bob: Ok, people, this seems like a good time for a band meeting.
Everyone looks at Bob.
Bob: Gerard, we need to talk about how much longer this tour’s going to go on.
Gerard: What do you mean?
Bob: It means that we’ve been on the road for too long. Nobody’s gotten any – you and blow-up dolls don’t count - in forever. We’re all tired and sexually frustrated and grouchy. Especially Frank. His Napoleon syndrome is showing big-time.
Bob: Plus, you can’t even move around on stage anymore, Gerard. You can’t jump. You get winded easily. You get too emotional and you start crying while singing Cancer. And I Don’t Love You. And Helena. And Thank You for the Venom.
Gerard: That’s a very emotional song for me.
Bob: And remember last week when you had to stop the concert to go to the bathroom?
Gerard: I had too much juice before I went on. It could happen to anyone.
Bob: Not to mention the fact that the fans are starting to notice your extra weight gain.
Gerard: Are you saying I’m fat?
Frank: You’re like a whale.
Bob: Frank! No, you’re not fat. You're glowing. But sooner or later, people are going to realize that something very weird is going on. We can’t let the world know that slash actually does take place within the band and that one of us knocked you up. The repercussions from the tween demographic alone could be disastrous.
Gerard: I don’t like that term, “knocked up.” It’s so crass.
Bob: Gerard, focus.
Gerard: Sorry. Ok, so you’re saying that we need to stop the tour?
Frank: Can I get a hell fucking yeah?
Bob: Frank . . .
Gerard: But what about getting the message of the Black Parade out to everyone?
Ray: But Gerard, just think, if we stop the tour, we can go back to Jersey, buy a house . . .
Gerard: Big deal.
Ray: Decorate the nursery . . .
Gerard: Decorate the nursery?
Ray: You could do it up in black and red with little vampires and zombies . . .
Gerard: And strobe lighting?
Ray: And strobe lighting.
Gerard: But what about the rest of the guys? I’ll miss them.
Mikey: We’ll visit all the time. Won’t we guys?
Frank: Not if I can fucking help it.
Frank: Fine, I’ll be there with bells on.
Gerard looks around. Everybody holds their breath.
Gerard: Well, I guess maybe it would be ok.
Pandemonium and chaos erupt.
Mikey falls to his knees.
Mikey: Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for making my slutty, control-freak brother see the light. Thank you, because that would have been the fifth blow-up doll this year and those things are fricking expensive.
Frank (talking into his cell): Jamia, baby, break out the Barry White and the heated lotions – Daddy’s coming home! We’re going to have sex!
Frank pauses to listen.
Frank: No. Not cyber, honey. The real thing. Yes, I’m pretty sure I still know how.
Bob breaks out his little black book.
Bob: Now, who should I call first? Wendy? Darla? Mary-Sue? Shaniqua? Jamia? Oops, no, she’ll be busy with Frank.
Ray: So, baby. Does all this talk of lovin’ give you any ideas?
Gerard: Ray, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m with child here.
Ray: The doctor said we can get it on till well into the third trimester.
Gerard thinks about it.
Gerard: Well, since you put it so romantically and all…ok. But first I gotta use the bathroom. I gotta pee like a racehorse. Cruella’s sitting right on my bladder. And she’s giving me gas too. Oh, and I gotta eat first. I haven’t eaten in like an hour and I’m starving.
Ray: Never mind. The moment’s passed. Hey, Mikey!
Ray: Exactly how badly did that blow-up doll explode?
The Setting: The fine state of New Jersey. The Way-Toro mansion. One month from the due date. Or as Ray likes to call it, “the light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel.”
Frank, Bob and Mikey stand outside the front door and ring the door bell. They wear identical looks of shock and trauma on their faces. And who can blame them – they barely made it past the flock of teenage girls camped outside the entrance gates.
Ray opens the door.
Ray: Guys, so glad you could— Whoa, what happened to you?
Frank: The hundred goth chicks outside your house, that’s what happened!
Ray: Yeah, they’ve been hanging out there for about a week now. Ever since that rumor about Gerard being pregnant hit the internet.
Bob: You could have warned us. They almost took both Frank and Mikey. The only thing that saved us was me throwing down. As it is, I think Mikey could file sexual assault charges against at least two of them.
Ray looks at Mikey who’s swaying on his feet.
Ray: Yeah, but are the presents ok?
Gerard (calling out from somewhere in the house): Ray, who is it? Is it them? Don’t tell me some more of those girls made it past the dogs.
Ray: It’s them, love of my life.
Gerard: Well, don’t just stand there. Let them in.
Ray steps back and they all enter, just in time to see a very pregnant Gerard Way waddling toward them.
Frank jumps into Bob’s arms.
Frank: Oh my God. What is it?
Bob dumps him on the ground.
Ray: Frank, the F word better not come out of your mouth or we might not survive this night.
Frank: Can I say whale?
Frank: Can I make allusions to a house?
Ray: Don’t make me step on you, little man.
Frank falls silent, although he still looks a bit afraid. When Gerard finally reaches them, all five men exchange hugs. Well, with Gerard they hug him as best as they can considering that he’s as big as a whale’s house.
Ten minutes and a lot of waddling later, they are all seated in the living room. Frank leans over to Mikey.
Frank: You could have warned me, you know.
Mikey: That’s what you get for not coming to visit as often as you should have.
Gerard: Thank you guys so much for coming to my baby shower! It’s so great to have us all
Frank: Hey, Gerard, what’s up with your hair?
Gerard begins to pat his hair self-consciously.
Gerard: What about it?
Frank: It’s a weird brown color.
Bob, Ray and Mikey duck, but Gerard merely smiles beatifically.
Gerard: Oh, that. It’s my natural hair color. The doctor says I’m not allowed to dye it until after the baby’s born.
Bob: Wow, I had no idea your hair color was brown.
Gerard: Me neither. So, how’s everybody doing?
Mikey: Well, Alicia and I—
Gerard: That’s great. Hey, let’s open the presents now, huh?
Minutes later, Gerard is surrounded by his opened presents, a ton of wrapping paper and a boatload of bows. In the tradition of baby showers everywhere, he is now wearing a paper plate hat decorated with the bows and ribbons from said presents.
Gerard: Thank you guys so much for all the gifts and for being here with me. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.
Bob: You know, I almost hate to say this but I think pregnancy’s agreeing with you, Gerard.
Gerard: Oh, I love being pregnant now. Yes, I’m incredibly uncomfortable and yes, there are days that I just want someone to pull Cruella out of me, but mostly I just feel so blessed that I’m able to bring a child into this world.
Mikey: That’s beautiful, Gerard.
Gerard: Besides, this pregnancy has been fueling my creativity like no other. How many songs have I written, Ray?
Ray: One hundred and sixteen.
Gerard: And how many comic books have I completed?
Gerard: The best one features pregnant, mutant super heroes.
Gerard: And how many times have I redecorated the nursery?
Ray: You didn’t redecorate it. I did all the painting and the hammering and the hanging.
Gerard: Fine, Ray. How many times did I redesign it?
Gerard: See what I mean? Creativity up the wazoo.
Frank: Wow. That’s great, Gerard.
Gerard: Yup. So speaking of creativity, who wants cake?
Frank, Mikey and Bob lift their hands in the air.
Gerard: Great. We’ll do that next. Right after I go to the bathroom.
Gerard holds out his hands.
Gerard: Ray, help me up.
The boys watch as Ray struggles to get Gerard up from the couch.
Ray: A little help here, guys?
Frank: Are you nuts? This is too entertaining.
Mikey: I’ll do it.
After a couple of minutes of back-straining labor, Ray and Mikey finally manage to get Gerard standing. He thanks them before waddling off toward the bathroom.
Mikey: How the hell do you that alone?
Ray (nodding sagely): There’s this new thing I’ve discovered. Bengay.
Frank: I never thought I’d say this, but this pregnancy has really changed Gerard. He’s barely exhibiting any diva-like or outlandish behavior.
Ray: Don’t be fooled. He could turn at any moment. Last week he stabbed me in the thigh with a fork when I told him he shouldn’t eat the spicy chicken wings.
Mikey: You’re a better man than me, Ray.
Gerard (from the vicinity of the bathroom): RAY! RAY! I need you!
Bob: Uh oh. Is he ok?
Ray: He’s probably stuck in the doorway again. I’d better go get him before he has kittens.
Gerard (standing at the entrance to the living room): I heard that! I did not get stuck in the doorway. My water just broke! Guys, I think I’m going to have the baby!
Frank: Cool! Here? Should I get the towels and hot water?
Bob smacks him lightly on the head.
Bob: No, you doofus. In a hospital.
Ray: Honey, are you serious? Are you sure?
Gerard: Do my wet pants give you any clue?
Ray (hysterical): Oh my God! The baby’s coming! The baby’s coming! And it’s early! Oh my God, it’s early!
Frank: How the hell are we going to make it past the crazed fans?
Bob: We can throw them Mikey as a distraction.
Ray: Will you people focus! My husband is about to have a baby here!
Gerard (doubling over): Ooh, what the hell is that? It feels like that one time I ate bad Taco Bell.
Bob takes a moment to look at the chaos.
Bob (to himself): I see I’m going to have to take charge. As usual.
Thirty minutes later they’re at the hospital in one of the maternity rooms. Ray is still panicking. Gerard is still having contractions and comparing them to various food poisoning episodes while Frank and Mikey nurse their latest wounds.
Frank (rubbing a particularly big hickey on his neck): Couldn’t we have gone out the back way, Bob?
Bob: Sorry baby, but the car was by the front door.
Frank: But did you have to turn the flashlight on us and point and yell?
Bob: I had to get Gerard out safely, didn’t I? Someone had to take the hit for the team.
Gerard, who is lying on the bed dressed in his hospital gown and squeezing the hell out of Ray’s hand, turns toward Bob and Frank.
Gerard: Why do you keep calling him baby?
Bob: Oh, that. Well, you know how we all went our separate ways at the end of the tour? Mikey went back to his wife, Frankie went home to Jamia and I hooked up with hundreds of unnamed chicks?
Bob(shrugs): Heterosexual sex got boring.
Gerard: Wait, so you . . .
Frank: I’ve been tappin’ that.
Bob: Actually, it’s me that’s been doing the tapping, right baby?
Gerard: Too much information, Bob! Too much information!
Gerard turns toward his brother.
Gerard: Mikey, what about you? You and Alicia are still good, right?
Mikey: Oh yeah. I’m very normal, Gee. I don’t go for sick slash stuff.
Ray: Except for when you get it on with your brother.
Just then the doctor comes into the room.
Doctor: Gerard, nice to see you again.
Gerard: Hey, doc.
Doctor: So, all seems to be going well. Contractions are about thirty minutes apart . . .
Just then Gerard and Ray both howl in pain, Gerard from the contraction, Ray from the fact that his hand is being broken.
The doctor takes the opportunity to place Gerard’s feet in the stirrups.
Gerard (after the contraction ends): Hey, why are my feet in stirrups?
The doctor puts on some gloves, sits down on a stool at the foot end of the bed and lifts up Gerard’s gown.
Gerard: What are you, a pervert or something? What are you doing down there?
Doctor: Believe me, I’ve seen it before, Gerard. I’m just checking things out.
Gerard: But, there’s no reason for that. Just give me my drugs and we’ll be on our way.
Doctor: Gerard, need I remind you that I am a professional? And as such, I have to check everything. I . . . oh my God!
Gerard: What? What?
The doctor lifts her head.
Doctor: Well, Gerard, it looks like you might be having this baby the old-fashioned way.
Gerard: What the hell does that mean?
Doctor: A natural delivery, Gerard. You’re 3 centimeters dilated. And gaining.
Gerard: Doctor. I am a man.
The doctor gives him a hard look.
Gerard: Yes, a somewhat effeminate man who likes cabaret and show tunes, but still a man. I cannot have a baby naturally.
Doctor: Well, I know that! And yet the proof is literally right in front of my eyes.
Ray steps around to where the doctor is.
Ray: Doctor, really. Stop messing around and just give my husband his drugs.
The doctor points in the general vicinity of Gerard’s crotch.
Ray: Oh my God.
Frank runs over.
Frank: I want to see too!
Bob: Baby, no!
Frank: Oh my God!
Frank topples over. Bob just barely catches him in time.
Mikey: Should I see too?
Frank: My eyes! My eyes!
Bob: I’m thinking no, Mikey.
Gerard: All right, you know what? I don’t even care what’s going on down there. Just give me my drugs and cut me open and let’s get this over with.
Doctor: Sorry, Gerard. Ethically, it would be wrong of me to perform a c-section when you’re perfectly capable of having this baby naturally.
Gerard: Ethics? You’re a doctor. How many ethics can you have?
Doctor: You should be a little nicer to me. Seeing as I’ve been keeping your secret all these months.
Gerard: Sorry, doc. But really. No c-section? No nice drugs?
Gerard: Then what doI get?
Doctor: A lot of pain and misery. Just like women in labor the world over. Look, I’ll check on you in an hour or so. I’ve gotta get some Starbucks if I’m going to get through this with my sanity intact.
The doctor leaves.
Gerard: Guys, I don’t think I can do this. I’m not good with pain. That’s Frank’s deal.
Mikey: Hey, don’t worry, big brother. We’re all here for you and we’re all gonna stay here with you for as long as you need us.
Mikey (walking toward the door): Yup. Just as soon as I get a sandwich.
Bob: Wait, you eat now?
Mikey: Yeah, it’s this new thing I’m trying.
Frank: Ooh, a sandwich sounds good.
Bob: Yeah, I could go for one myself. It’s not like we ever got that cake.
Ray: Let’s go down to the cafeteria.
Ray: Oh, sorry! You guys go. Have fun.
The guys start to leave.
Ray: Bring me back some pie!
Gerard: Can I have some pie?
Ray: You get ice chips.
Two hours later . . .
Ray: You’re doing good, sweetie. Just breathe through the pain. Breathe.
Gerard: Where the hell’s the doctor? Why isn’t she here? WITH THE DRUGS?
Nurse: Yeah, about that. She got stuck in traffic on her Starbucks run. I’m sure she’ll be here soon though.
Gerard: I will pay you all the money I have if you take this thing out of me. Now!
Nurse: Sir, I’m only a nurse. I can’t do that. Besides, you’re five centimeters along. You’re halfway there.
Gerard starts to cry.
So does Ray.
Another two hours later . . .
Gerard (panting during a contraction): I really think we should rethink the name Damien.
Gerard: Because this thing inside me is obviously evil!
Ray: Oh, Gerard. How I love that sense of humor of yours.
Gerard: Come a little closer and I’ll show you humor.
Another hour later . . .
The doctor comes running back in.
Doctor: Whew! Sorry about that, but there was a really long line at Starbucks.
She looks over at Gerard who looks like he’s been running around on stage for about ten hours straight. He’s sweaty, pale, disheveled and his makeup’s a tear-stained mess.
Doctor: Ooh, Gerard, you’re not looking too hot. Maybe we’d better get you an epidural.
Ray: Epidural? What’s that, doc?
Doctor: It’s going to numb him from the waist down.
Ray: Oh my God, yes please. I’m a guitarist - my hands can’t take much more.
Gerard: Yes, please. Drugs. Nice drugs.
The doctor lifts up Gerard’s gown.
Doctor: Now let’s see what we have here. Oh my . . .
Gerard: What? What now?
Doctor: Well, Gerard, looks like there’s no time for the epidural. You’re at ten centimeters. You’ve gotta start pushing.
Gerard: What? Pushing? What?
Doctor: Wow, rock stars really aren’t that smart, are they? You. Are. About. To. Have. The. Baby.
Frank, who’s been dozing in the corner, wakes up fully.
Frank: What? Do I get the towels and hot water now?
Bob: Not now, sweetie.
Mikey: I should go call mom and dad.
Gerard: No! Don’t leave. I need you here. I need all of you here.
Doctor: This is most irregular, having all these people here. Especially since that one there is trying to light up a cigarette.
Bob. Frank, honey, stop that.
Gerard: I’ll pay you a buttload of money if they can stay.
Bob: Um, Gerard, maybe we should leave . . .
Gerard: Oh hell no! You all slept with me! All of you are potentially responsible for this torture! You’re all staying! Now get the fuck over here and give me some hands to crush! And why is no one stroking my hair lovingly?
Twenty minutes later . . .
Doctor: One, two, three, push!
Gerard (pushing): Ray. You. Are. Never. Touching. Me. Again!
Ray: Fine by me.
Twenty minutes after that . . .
Gerard (near delirious with pain and exhaustion): What I said before? When I said that the nausea and not having cigarettes and coffee was my black parade? I lied. This is my black parade. Right here. Trying to push a bowling ball out of my body. This is it. It’s over. I think I can see the light, guys. I see the light. It’s just like that amazing song I wrote. Heaven is crashing down for me.
Doctor: Is he always this dramatic?
Mikey: You don’t really want us to answer that.
Another twenty minutes later . . .
Gerard (officially delirious with pain and exhaustion): You know what? I changed my mind. I don’t want to have this baby. No baby. No more. She can stay in there. I’ll take her out when she’s ready for college.
Doctor: I can see the head! Just one final push! Now, Gerard! Push!
Gerard begins to cry but pushes for all he’s worth. He’s crushing Ray’s hand on one side and Mikey’s in the other.
Bob and Frank stop making out in the corner and pay attention.
Suddenly, a baby’s wail is heard over all the manly screaming.
Doctor: Congratulations, Gerard and Ray. You have a beautiful, baby girl. Ray, would you like to cut the cord?
Ray (smiling happily): I’d rather take a baseball bat to the nuts, doc.
Doctor: Ok, then.
The doctor hands the baby to the nurse, who cleans her up before handing her to Ray.
Ray: Isn’t she beautiful, Gee? You did this. You brought our little girl into the world. I love you. I love you so much.
Gerard: I love you too, Ray.
Ray places the baby in Gerard’s arms.
Gerard: Hello, you sweet little thing. You’ve caused mommy a lot of trouble these eight months. But you were so worth it.
Frank, Bob and Mikey gather around. They all start to make little goo-goo noises at the baby.
Doctor: Yes, Gerard?
Gerard: Can I have my drugs now?
Doctor: Yes, Gerard. Just let me finish up down here and we’ll get you all drugged up.
Gerard gives the baby back to Ray. He lies back, drained but happy.
Gerard: Thank you.
Ray: Now we really have to think of a name. And no, it won’t be Cruella.
Gerard: What about Lindsey?
Ray: Why Lindsey?
Gerard: I don’t know. I just kind of like it.
Ray: I’m not too crazy about it.
Gerard: How about Caroline?
Ray: I like that. Our sweet Caroline. Yeah, I like that a lot.
The doctor finishes up with Gerard and orders him up some drugs. She walks over to Frank and Bob who were so moved by the birth, they’d started to make out again.
Doctor: Oh, Frank?
Frank tears himself away from Bob.
Frank: Yes, Doctor?
Doctor: The results of your test are back.
Frank: Oh. Ok, what’s the verdict?
Doctor: You’re definitely pregnant. Congratulations! This is what you have to look forward to in about eight glorious months!
Frank: Oh shit.
Frank passes out. Bob doesn’t catch him this time, seeing as he hit the ground right before Frank did.
Gerard: See, Ray? There is justice in this world after all.
Ray: Yes, there is, baby.
Gerard: Now, can we get a move on with those drugs?