FYE: 01 Music Again

"This is naaasty stuff."

Adam poked at the mysterious concoction. Not with his hand, of course. A metal spoon. No way on earth would he ever touch it – much less drink it, which was what Kris was trying to get him to do.

Kris (that little devil!) stared in fascination at the – liquid? – sloshing up against the tall, smooth sides of the pitcher. A funny guy, he was. After deciding to throw the remains of lunch (spaghetti with meat sauce, it used to be yum-yum) into a container, add some Coke, lemonade, salt, sugar, pepper, cream, and God knows what else, he'd mixed it all up with the spoon that Adam was holding right now. "An experiment," he'd called it, but he didn't tell him that it would be dessert!

"That's what you think," Kris replied smoothly. "Can you not see? It's a masterpiece! Chefs from all over the world will be begging for the recipe!"

The dark-haired man made a face. "The only thing you can best them in is singing, not making food," he reminded the Idol winner. "Besides, it looks like it's not even edible. How can you not be repulsed?"

True. Along with those ingredients, Kris had rummaged around in the fridge and cupboards to look for extra things. The freezer had a few spoonfuls of chocolate and vanilla ice cream left. Strawberry yogurt and fruit punch were stirred in with, like, a litre of homogenized milk. Mineral water that tasted stale, and thank goodness there was no beer. Soy sauce, Aunt Jemimah Sugar-Free Maple syrup, left over honeydew flavored bubble tea, and oh dear, is that hot chilli sauce? There were many barely identifiable lumps at the bottom of the glass. Adam squinted at them. Limp, rubbery pieces of mushrooms from the spaghetti sort of floated around in the stir. Those kinda grey-white things… they used to be mints. The tapioca bounced around, actually bounced. At least they never changed color. Adam shuddered. The entire… 'liquid'… thingy… was a murky combo of grey-brown-blue. Ewww.

But of course, who could forget the not-so-little dash of Blue Raspberry Kool-Aid powder mix?

"Are you done staring at it?" Kris demanded lightly. "'Cause the only way to test if it's edible is to try it out! And since you won't drink it…" He started to lift the pitcher… what?

Adam's eyes widened slowly, slowly as the meaning sank in. "No! NO!" He jumped at Kris with his arms stretched out. He tripped over his feet in his urgency to get there, colliding into Kris's legs. Kris choked on his air and held the glass away from their bodies.

Looking up weakly from his position at Kris's feet, Adam reached a hand out in a pleading gesture. "Don't! I really don't wanna call Poison Control! I swear, that stuff came from the sewer!"

"Your mouth," Kris managed to crack after regaining his breath. "Look, I'm not gonna die. The worst, worst, worst thing that can happen is me puking all over the floor."

"No. Don't drink it!"

"I sincerely want to try it, though." There he was again. His weirdness. Who willing wants to drink a bucket of rainbow colored sludge? "And you really didn't have to body check me," he added, looking down on Adam. "I could have spilled it on you."

Adam gasped loudly in horror, than jumped up in a moment. "Oh, please, o! But did it get on me!" He twisted around to check if any of the 'poisonous sewer sludge with highly toxic chemicals' had touched him. "Oh, ew ew ew ew!"

"Chill it," Kris ordered calmly, a huge comparison to how Adam was acting. "I'm still going to drink this stuff. How about this: we split half-half?"

Stopping in his frantic twisting and turning, Adam stared at him in shocked disbelief. Drink… it…? Half?! No way in hell! Not even touching it! Drinking a pitcher of crap! Was Kris crazy!

Rolling his eyes, Kris flicked the dirty spoon into the sink. It landed with a clatter and a few drops of nasty stuff. "I take it by your silence that it's a yes. Half-half. Here I go." He touched the rim of the pitcher to his lips and tilted his head back.

Adam squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that Kris wasn't going to die. That stuff was a killer. Please don't die, Kris! You're my friend! You've got family, fans, a future… When he opened them, one by one, he saw Kris chugging the liquid cyanide. A squeak formed in the back of his throat as he helplessly watched Kris drink it. Oh god, oh god, oh god…

After what seemed like eternity, Kris set the pitcher down with a thump. He looked up at Adam with a triumphant grin and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm totally fine! Look at me! Hey, I saved half for you," Kris grinned even wider and threw his arms out.

Eying the half-filled pitcher suspiciously, Adam took a sniff. It wasn't all too bad, kinda sweet smelling. Maybe, like its scent, it wouldn't be sickening, unlike how it looked. At least they didn't throw it in the blender. Try to imagine pieces of mushrooms and tapioca and mints flying around… He shuddered again, trying to force the ugly image out of his mind.

It seemed like Kris didn't have a problem with the drink. He leaned against the counter top, looking to Adam with expectant eyes. "Come on, it's really not bad. Actually, it tastes pretty good, to be honest. Must have been the maple syrup – what was it, like half the bottle? The after taste is a bit sour though. But it's fine."

"Hm, OK then," Adam said uncertainly. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as it looked. "Since you aren't doubled over throwing up, I'll try it. Are you sure you didn't poison yourself…?"

"I'm totally fine," he reassured. Smiling a suspiciously bright smile he gave Adam the thumbs-up and motioned towards the pitcher. "Drink it or I'll pour it down your throat."

The contrast between Kris's expression and words was so funny that Adam had to laugh. "I believe you. I'll drink it." He picked up the glass with both hands, and keeping an eye on his friend the whole time, brought it to his lips.

He tentatively took a sip. It wasn't so bad. The taste wasn't like something he'd ever had (no surprise) but it also somehow seemed familiar. It wasn't horrible or good. Sweet, sugar sweet. The maple syrup, he guessed. He could definitely taste the Kool Aid powder in there. Some of the ingredients seemed to have completely vanished, and for that he was grateful for that.

Before he knew it, he'd drunken almost all the rest of the pitcher and got to the tapioca and mints. He took them together and chewed them – yes, the mints were soft enough – and swallowed. Kris was grinning like crazy. It looked like he was trying to hide something; probably laughter. Well, yeah. Who would willingly drink 2 litres of toxic waste? That much liquid in his stomach suddenly made his midsection ache slightly. It slowed to a tiny trickles of brown-ish liquid.

"Done," Adam declared, and thunked the pitcher down. It clattered with an empty sound. He grimaced at the aftertaste; Kris was right. It was sour with some artificial flavouring that tasted… blue. His tongue felt tingly.

"So what do you think?" Kris asked eagerly with the same expression.

Adam suddenly felt a little queasy as he looked up to the ceiling, thinking about a way to describe it. For some reason it seemed really hard to say verbally. The tingling spread down the back of his neck, and suddenly got inspiration. "Try to imagine crap sliding down your throat," he moaned and clapped his hand to his forehead mockingly.

"It can't be that bad," protested Kris.

"Well, it is now." Adam suddenly felt unwell, his stomach like jelly. Bile sprang up in his throat. "I'm feeling weird."

"That happened to me, too," he assured. "It'll pass."

Adam picked up the pitcher and spoon, placing them in the sink. The other things were already there, a small stack of plates and forks sticking in cups. He turned the tap on and rinsed everything. Watching the water drain, he felt dizzy.

Kris came up behind him and grabbed a sponge, pouring dish soap on it. He held it under water for a second and then began scrubbing the first thing he saw.

"So… how did spending the day with you end up by poisoning ourselves?" Adam asked conversationally, keeping his eyes and stomach down. Standing like this, working side by side… it brought back the Idol memories. It felt great, except for the way his stomach was flipping.

"It wasn't that bad. We didn't barf," Kris pointed out. He passed another dish to Adam and held it under the tap.

"That's true."

For the next few minutes, they soaped and rinsed the dishes in silence. Then Adam spoke up, feeling a little bit stupid.

"Will your wife be a little pissed that we trashed a bunch of stuff?"

"Not trashed," Kris disagreed. "Drunken. She wouldn't really care, even if she found out. But man, she was kinda fond of those mints… Besides, what's a little hot chilli sauce?" He turned his head to the side so Adam could see his wink.

He giggled. "What is a little chilli? At least I didn't taste it."

"Oh, you're lucky," Kris grumbled. "You've got the lucky end of that. I swear my tongue set on fire."

"I thought spicy doesn't really bother you."

He put on a frustrated face. "Let's pretend it does… and the rest of the stuff was horrid."

Adam smiled. Kris finally admitted that it was bad. As he thought this and put the clean pitcher on the dish rack, his stomach suddenly rolled out of the confines of his ribs and up. Something sour and tart rose in his throat and threatened to spill out. Without another word he bolted.

"Adam?" Kris called wildly as he dashed out the kitchen. He lightly ran to the closed bathroom door at the end of the hall and leaned his ear against the door. Sure enough, he heard Adam inside. Knocking, he said, "You alright man?"

"No! Go away!" Another noise. "I'm puking my guts out!"

Kris puckered his face, now also feeling the effects. "Let me in. I swear." He gagged, tasting bitterness at the back of his throat and his stomach churned. Maybe we did poison ourselves after all. His guts started to twist and jump. "Let me in!"

Adam's voice was hoarse. "You don't want to see me."

Kris hit his fist against the door, getting desperate. "I've only got one bathroom in this house!"

"Your fault! You should have bought a bigger one!"

"If I use the kitchen sink – Katy – murder –" He couldn't finish his sentence, the insides of his stomach jumping into his mouth. In a final attempt he raised his hand to hit the door, but it suddenly swung open and he stumbled in. He leaned over the toilet and became violently sick.

Adam ran out.

Several minutes later, Adam felt unwell again and hunched over the kitchen sink. Damn you Kris! he thought with every heave. Damn you! He took one look at the drying pitcher on the dish rack, and then vomited again. I know who's the next one laid on the rack!

Moaning unpleasantly, Adam coughed and spat several times. He turned the cold tap on and stuck his mouth under. After rinsing and cleaning, he decided it felt so cool and refreshing that he wet his face, and then stuck his whole head under. For a while he forgot everything; the toxic waste they had drunk, the fact that he got so sick. He just watched the running water spike his bangs in front of his face. The water rolled down the black strands, then finally dripped off the pointed shaped ends and dropped into the metal bottom. Rivulets of water streamed into the drain.

He had been concentrating so hard that it shocked him when he felt Kris touch his shoulder. Jumping, he smacked the back of his head on the tap. "Ow!" Pain rang in his head, but it wasn't much compared to the way his guts felt. It was like they were twitching and squirming, ready to go into action anytime… Shudder. Turning to face Kris, he poked his shoulder. His voice cracked, than he cleared his throat. It was very sore, feeling like someone had pounded a rock on it for a long time. "Are you – are you alright?"

"Yeah." Kris's voice was equally haggard. "I feel so dead. Wonder how there was that much stuff in me."

"The worst didn't happen. You didn't puke all over the floor," Adam pointed out, becoming more clear. "But you did, in the toilet. Be a man!"

"What? Me?" He was indignant now. "At least I could stomach it for longer then you!" His smirk was playful.

"Why, you – !" Adam pulled his hand back like he was going to hit him, but instead he shook out his hair wildly. Water drops sprayed all over the place, mainly landing on Kris.

Kris yelped in a very unmanly-like way and jumped back, swatting at the flying drops of water. Adam shook his head again and Kris tried to dodge the spinning drops. It seemed like all traces of sickness was gone. Their laughter rang in the small kitchen, and then –

A lock turned in the front door and they froze abruptly. Kris's wife was home.

Kris turned to Adam with a guilty look on his face. "Well, you can see for yourself if Katy'll get pissed. Oh yeah, who she'll kill, me or both of us…"

And the queasiness returned.