Crazy Little Americans

Please Don't Leave Your Shit At Home, America

Alfred-Home, Washington D.C-April 4th, 2024

Alfred woke up to muffled shouting. He sighed and ran his hand down his face. Alfred picked up his phone, the light blinding him for a few seconds. 2:30 AM. It was 2:30...in the fucking morning. Groaning, Alfred face-planted back into his pillow. He swore he would punch whoever thought it was okay to shout at 2 in the morning. After a few minutes, he got up from his bed and turned on the flashlight that was on his phone.

Dally was still asleep in his bed and the box still had the lock on it. Alfred tip-toed across his bedroom, phone in hand and opened his door. He instantly closed the door, not wanting to wake up his twin. The hall was pitch black and the voices were still muffled. Damn, Alfred never knew how thick these walls were. As Alfred crept down the hall, the voices became clearer.

"Holy shit, Nicky! It's Taylor Ham, not fucking Pork Roll. Why the fuck would you call it that! It's fucking creator's name was John fucking Taylor!" Mike shouted.

"I call it Pork Roll because it's made of pork! Also, John Taylor has been dead for years and the name Taylor Ham only accounts for one product of pork roll! It doesn't make sense!" Nicky shouted back.

"Why can't you decide on calling it one thing?" Brooke asked. Will nodded in agreement beside her.

"Shut it, Brooke!" Both of them shouted. Alfred sighed. Of course, it was the New Jersey twins. They didn't care if it was early morning, morning, noon, afternoon, evening or night, those two would argue for the most absurd reasons. Such as what to call a meat that came out of Trenton. Brooke wasn't being much of a help and Will didn't seem to care.

"Will you two shut up about the 'Taylor Ham vs Pork Roll' thing? It's getting old." Alfred asked. Mike and Nicky glared at Alfred. Successfully, they stopped.

"It's still pork roll, though." Nicky muttered. Mike punched Nicky in the face. Brooke gasped. Will supported Nicky as he stumbled back, clutching his left eye.

"Micheal!" Alfred snapped. Mike huffed and crossed his arms, storming off into his room.

"Are you okay, Nick?" Alfred asked, softly. Will tried to get Nicky to take his hand off of his eye, so Alfred could take a look at it.

"Mom? What's going on?" A small voice came from the top of the stairs. They all turned to see two small children at the top of the stairs, both looking worried. The one on the right had light skin, strands of her bright auburn hair fell in front of her face as she looked towards her sister with her honey brown eyes. The one on the left had slightly darker skin than her sister, her golden brown hair was tied into a high ponytail as her grey-blue eyes gazed upon the group.

"Annie! Nina! There you are! Mace wants you to come back to sleep!" Another girl said, sliding next to the two sisters. She had messy light brown hair that you could mistake for blonde at a glance, dark green eyes and pale skin.

"I wanna know what's going on!" The auburn haired girl shouted.

"Anne, go back to sleep." Brooke sighed, walking towards the girls.

"No, Mama! I wanna know what's going on with Uncle Nicky!" The girl named Anne shouted again.

"Stop shouting, Anne. Ya don't wanna wake up the others now, would ya?" Brooke questioned, kneeling to the little girl's height.

"No, Mama..." Anne murmured.

"Alright, I'll tell ya what. I'll tell ya what happened if ya promise to go back to bed." Brooke responded. Both of them nodded vigorously. The light brown-haired girl cocked her head in confusion.

"Great, now let's go." Brooke smiled. The three girls followed. Alfred sighed, focusing back on Nicky. During the conversation, Alfred was able to get Nicky's hand off of his eye. He could already see the bruise forming, Alfred cursed that they were as strong as him.