Cuffed. [Norman Reedus]

4*Oh, the Irony.

Chapter Four ::: Oh, the Irony.

{*UNEDITED*}

Fireworks. And alcohol. Let me start off by giving you some advice: never, ever, ever, under any circumstances, should you put two and two in the same night.

Boone should know better. I know him, and if he wasn't as drunk as he is now, he would never let anyone light fireworks in his front yard. But twenty minutes after I met The Vampire, we come across the mob making their way outside to watch the show. And there he is; Boone Divins lighting a firecracker, all by himself.

Me and Vampire glance at each other, both thinking the exact same thing.

"Hey!" I call, turning to Boone, who is trying his best to keep his hand steady enough to light the wick. "How about we wait a couple hours to light these things up? I'll even light 'em for you later tonight." I bribe. I'm inching closer, but finally stop scooting forwards when I see the fuse light. And as Boone stands up to walk away, he swings his foot around and knocks the explosive off of the cardboard mat.

I back up quickly, looking around to see if anyone is in the path of the dangerous device. Nobody's in the path, but that doesn't release the weight on my shoulders.

I know Boone has messed up before, but this is a new side of him. He's never been this drunk in his entire life and he only ever lights up on fireworks on the Fourth of July. And even during those times, he's all about safety.

"Boone!' I shout, stepping around Vampire to make my way over to the whooping and rout crowd.

Apparently I'm not fast enough, because a high-pitched whistle just about blows my ears out, followed by a flaming rocket that twirls and swings and dips in the air. It just grazes the top of all the drunks, and just when I think it's about to go out, it catches the top of a large finger. Someone is in a costume of a middle-finger and before I know it, the negative flip is on fire.

Some people run. Others stand there laughing. But the few people that are not yet piss-drunk freak out and start a panic. One guy runs inside for a fire extinguisher and another ignorant woman tosses the only thing she has. Her cup of alcohol is thrown over the flames and the next minute, the guy in the finger costume is on the ground rolling over the dew-dropped grass.

I guess he has some since, because the fire goes out within seconds.

I take the chance to sprint over to Boone who is struggling with the package that holds the rest of the fireworks. I lay my hand on his shoulder to get my point across that this is not the best idea. "This is an awful idea." I say outloud, gripping his shoulder. He tosses the large package aside once he gets all the desired explosives he wants, and then stands back up.

"Loosen up, officer!" he hiccups. "Enjoy the show."

I'm getting ready to lunge forward and force the toys from his arms when he begins to twist five wicks together. This really is a bad situation to be in. Especially for me. And Vampire. And the large, negative finger laying on the gournd, trying to catch his breath.

"Shh!" Boone hisses, dropping to his knees at the cardboard stand. "This is gonna be GREAT!" he yells. And he holds the flame to the wick he orders everyone to back up super far.

It's now or never! I instruct my feet to jump at Boone and snatch the lighter from him. I get there just in time, knocking him over and flicking the light out of his cold fingers. "No, Boone!" I say sternly. I roll sideways in the grass and pull myself to my feet. "This isn't you. Just leave it for some other time!" I explain, really not wanted to get in trouble with the law.

As I'm still looking harshly at Boone, I don't realize the old man, that talked about my buns earlier, pick up the lighter. Without second thoughts, he dives for the stand and pushes the button down, lighting the wick on fire.

"Shit!" I yell, backing away. I disappear into the costumes and run into Vampire, who looks just as worried as me. "Trust me on this. This isn't the beer talking." I start. "We really should've left earlier, drunk or not."

I see the slightest change in her expression, the corner of her lip tilting up as if I made the situation even the tiniest bit humorous. The moment only lasts a second, though, and the next thing we know, the sky is white with sparks. Whistles and hisses and songs of the gun powder fill my ears, making me cringe and back into the house's wall.

"We should go now!" Vampire somehow gets my attention over all the noise of people and fire. I nod swiftly and frantically search for a getaway, spotting one in between two very large and colorful dresses. Without even thinking, I'm grabbing her hand and we're both running as fast as we can.

I can't help but feel as if I'm in a kick-ass action movie. Leaving the party with a super hot girl, hand-in-hand, running dangerously away from an explosion to hop on an even more kick-ass motorcycle to ride away. But as we drive, we can only get so far before the dreaded blue and red lights start flashing in front of us.

I attempt to turn around because I know that there's still a lot of alcohol lingering through me, but I end up facing two more cruisers. The party scatters, and the police follow after and the irony of the whole thing is almost funny.

I'm here dressed as a cop, getting arrested for drunk-driving and reckless-partying. And the real officers confiscate my plastic hand-cuffs and rubber gun, leaving me with an empty belt and a pit lodged in my stomach. We're all in deep trouble, now. And I know I've learned my lesson.

Partying is not for the 25-year-old, (single, and very lame,) Norman Reedus.