Pink Floyd's Dusty Flat

Hey You, Let's Go on a Date

The men had all finished their shopping, and it was around seven o'clock at night. Rick had settled on his button-up shirt with some burgundy jeans. Syd picked out a tie-dye long-sleeved shirt and two pairs of satin pants. Roger, of course, had his fur coat, some chains, and...booty shorts? Anyway, David had found his tee shirt and jeans, so all was well. Except it wasn't. See, although this platform likes to see David and Roger together, David actually liked Rick. They had a bit of a fling, actually. Long story. Anyway, Rick and him knew they couldn't be together, so David was hoping that the girl he met would help him take his mind off Rick. Conveniently enough, the woman called him as soon as that thought entered his mind.

"Hello?" David asked.

"Hi, yes. My name is Estelle. I'm the girl from the store."

"Ah, hello Estelle. My name is David, in case you didn't gather that already." He chuckled, referring to the screaming crowd that he was mobbed by. Estelle giggled.

"Well...what are you doing right now?" She asked. Just then, Roger ran into the room, wearing only his boxers.

"AGH!!! GODDAMNIT! NICK TOOK ALL THE WEED!" Roger screamed.

"Um...is everything okay?" Estelle asked over the phone.

"Erm...yes, love--just, uh, give me a few minutes, okay? I'll call you right back." David said in a hurry.

"Alr--" David already hung up the phone.

"Ugh, Rog, I was talking to someone!" David exclaimed in exasperation.

"Do you think I give a fuck? All my joints are gone!" Roger yelled. David sighed.

"Alright, alright...I'll talk to him." He walked over to Nick's room and knocked on the door.

"'Ello? Nick?"

"W-what? I...I didn't take all the weed...I swear." Nick slurred in response. David opened the door slowly. Nick didn't look so good. Now he saw why Syd didn't bother to ask about him.

"What's wrong, Nick? I'm here." David asked, a concerned tone in his voice.

"I--well, you see...it was the Thot Patrol." Nick said solemnly.

"The what? Wait, I thought they were done for? I thought all the thots were moved to the right dimension?" David asked, growing more and more worried.

"No...they found more. B-Brian May teleported in here...he said, he said..." David was shocked by this information.

"No way! That can't be possible! He--I--this simply isn't Wright..." David's jaw dropped. True terror sank in. It felt as if all the walls in the house were about to cave. It couldn't be...or could it? Find out next time on "Pink Floyd's Dusty Flat"...or will you? Just kidding, you will. I think.

A/N: This was a shameless reference to my other dumbass story--Melina's Mansion. Feel free to check it out!!