Tales of the My chemical Children

Bandit’s 7th birthday was today, and I wanted to make it perfect. She had all her friends coming over, Mikey was coming up, to surprise her, the only problem is that Frank is on tour, and took his kids, so they can’t come, and Ray took his family to England for a holiday. Other than that, it should be great.
I was sat on the floor, blowing up the balloons for the party, whilst Lyn-z, helped get Bandit into her party outfit.
“DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!” I heard my little girl yell, running down the stairs.
“Wow,” I smiled, picking up Bandit, “Look at you. Very pretty Lady Bee.”
She giggled, and I set her on the ground.
“Guest should be here in about 10 minutes, so I am going to go pick up the cake now,” Lyn-z said, grabbing her purse.
“CAKE! CAKE! CAKE!” Bandit yelled, running around the living room.
“Okay,” I chuckled, picking up Bandit, causing her to scream, “Don’t be too long okay.”
As Lyn-z leaves the house, I carry Bandit into the kitchen, asking her to help with the snacks for the party. She agrees, carrying a bowl of chips into the lounge room. She doesn’t return.

I finish putting up the last balloon, when I hear a knock at the door. It is 5 minutes until guests start to arrive, and Mikey won’t be here for another hour, so I assume it is Lyn-z, who probably bought more food, which is why she can’t open the door.
I go over, and open the front door. It isn’t Lyn-z, but Bandit’s friend Charlotte, with her bitch mother, Karen.
“Hello Gerard,” She sneers, wrinkling her nose in disgust, “Is Lindsey here?”
“Um, no,” I mumbled, then call out to Bandit, “BANDIT! CHARLOTTE’S HERE!”
Bandit runs up, all excited, and brings her friend to the lounge room, most likely to eat the rest of the chips.
“So,” Karen snarls, “Is Lindsey not going to be here for the party? Is it just going to be you? May is say that, having a full grown man, run a little girl’s birthday party, without another female in the house, is quiet suspicious.”
“Oh no,” I say, trying to calm this woman down, “Lyn-z should be back any moment, she just had to pick up the cake.”
“Getting your wife to run errands I see. Very sexist,” The woman glares at me.
“No, no, no,” I exclaim, “She just asked me to stay here with Bandit, and help set up the rest of the decorations.”
“Oh so now women control you.”
I have no idea what this woman’s problem is with men, but she always finds a way to twist my words around.
“Who else was coming did you say, adult wise,” Karen jeered.
“Oh, um, well,” I stutter, quite unconfutable by the whole situation, “Me and Lyn-z, and my brother Mikey, and his wife Kristin.”
“So another man,” She snarls, “And why does he have such a babyish name. Mikey, that’s hardly a name for a full grown man. Also, your wife’s name is not Lyn-z, it is Lindsey.”
Before I could respond, the door opened, and my beautiful wife came through, cake under her arm.
“Lindsey,” Karen smiled, running up to her, “How have you been?”
“I’ve been well Karen,” Lyn-z sighed, “Gerard where’s Bandit?”
“She’s in the lounge room, with Charlotte,” I mumble, looking to the ground.
I see a flash of concern in her eyes, but I ignore it.
“Do you want me to take the cake to the kitchen for you?” I ask, walking over to take it from her.
“That would be-“
“No, Lindsey is perfectly capable of carrying it herself,” Karen glared, “Just cause you’re a man, doesn’t make you any stronger or better than her.”
“Oh, no Karen,” Lyn-z tried, but was cut off.
“You need to speak for your husband?” She sneered, “What kind of man has his wife speak for him?”
I was going to reply, but the door cut me off.
“Well, guest are arriving now, and so the party is starting, we really must cater to it,” I said, rushing to the door, “Goodbye now.”
Karen leaves in a huff, as more children start to pile in.

“DADDY! DADDY!” Bandit yells, running into the kitchen, “CAN WE PLAY GUITAR HERO AS A PARTY GAME?!”
“Do the others want to?” I ask, kneeling down to her level.
She nodded happily, causing me to sigh.
“Alright,” I sighed, “Let’s set it up.”
“YAY!” She yelled, running off to tell all her guests.

The party was coming to an end, and so far, it had been amazing. Mikey arrived, slightly earlier, causing Bandit to squeal with joy. Her guest were now entertained by her singing, and piano pla-er-bashing.
“DADDY!” Bandit squealed from the party room, “COME SING WITH ME!”
“Yeah ‘Daddy’, come sing with me,” Mikey mocked, smirking.
“Quiet, otherwise you’re on kid duty,” I threatened, sending back my own smirk.
I stood up, and went over to my baby girl.
“Okay Ban-Ban,” I grinned, “What are we singing?”
“Let’s sing Brother,” She cheered.
“Well, let’s get Uncle Mikey in here, considering the song is about him,” I laugh, walking over to the piano.
“Wazt ‘bout meh,” Mikey mumbled, walking into the room, mouth full of fairy bread.
“Uncle Mikey,” Bandit smiled, giving off her signature toothy grin, “Daddy’s gonna play your song.”
Mikey smiled softly, knowing that meant Bandit wanted me to play Brother.
“Okay,” He smiled, sitting down next to me.
I began to play, singing and playing the piano, causing Bandit to squeal.
“Does anyone have the time to bring me down?” I sung, proud that I made my child so happy, with just this one simple song.
“And can I sleep, all night long, to the drums of the city rain?”

Most of the guests had left, and only around 4 remained. Old My chemical Romance songs were playing, as Bandit insisted on us playing the album, May death never Stop You.
“MAMA WE ALL GO TO HELL!”
I laughed, as Bandit, and her parade of friends, danced around the coffee table.
“MAMA WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!”
Three loud knocks were heard at the door, and I prayed it was someone OTHER than Karen.
“WHAT IS THIS!?”
Shit, it is her.
“Hello Karen,” I smiled, “Charlotte, your mother’s here.”
“WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING?!” She seethed.
“Bandit wanted to play some My Chemical Romance,” I answer honestly.
“THEY’RE GONNA CLEAN UP YOUR LOOKS, WITH OR THE LIES AND THE BOOK!”
Shit, shit, Teenagers.
Bandit’s P.O.V
I sighed as I realized Charlotte had to go, but I knew there would be time to listen to more music, as Daddy and Charlotte’s Mommy often talked a bit, but Charlotte’s Mommy had a very loud voice, and scared Daddy sometimes.
“UNCLE MIKEY!” I squealed, running up to him, “TEENAGERS!!!”
He nodded, smiling, and eating all the fairy bread. Greedy Guts.
“CAUSE THE DRUGS NEVER WORK! THEY’ER GONNA GIVE YOU A SMIRK!” I sung.
Out of me and all my friend’s, I believe I have the best voice. I mean, come on, my Daddy is a singer.
“CAUSE THEY GOT METHODS TO KEEPING YOU CLEAN! THEY’ER GONNA RIP UP YOUR HEADS! YOUR ASPIRATIONS TO SHREDS! ANOTHER COG IN THE MURDER MACHIEN!” We cheered, dancing around the room, “THEY SAID, TEENAGERS SCARED THE LIVING SHIT OUTTA ME!”
“THAT’S IT!”
I saw Charlotte’s Mommy storm into the, and turn the music off. I saw Uncle Mikey stop laughing, and his face pale. He never was one to talk with people other than our family.
“YOU ARE MAKING MY CHILD SING HORRID THINGS, AND HAVING A FULL GROWN MAN WATCH THEM!” She yelled, reminding me of my Mommy that time I drew on Daddy’s art, “I COULD TAKE YOU TO COURT FOR THIS!”
“What’s all this yelling about Karen?” I turned to see Mommy in the door way.
“Your husband is a disgusting man Lindsey,” She growled.
“My Mommy’s always like this around boys,” Charlotte whispers into my ear.
I nod in agreement.
“Oh, and why is that?” Mommy scowls, folding her arms.
“He was making my daughter sing a horrid ‘Emo’ song, and having his paedophile brother watch these children.”
“KRISTIN!” I heard Mommy yell, “TAKE MIKEY OUTSIDE PLEASE!”
I saw Aunty Kristin run in, and take Uncle Mikey out of the room.
I frowned.
“Excuse me Miss,” I say, walking over to Charlotte’s Mommy, “Why are you yelling at my Daddy, and making fun of his art?”
“ART!” Charlotte’s Mommy screamed, causing me to flinch, “YOU STUPID CHILD! ART IS A PAINTING, A SCULPUTER, A DRAWING, HELL, EVEN SOME SCRIBBLES! ART IS NOT AN ALBUM YOUR FATHER LIKES!”
“But, Daddy does not just like it, he made it,” I pouted, tears filling my eyes.
“Yeah Mommy,” Charlotte said, standing next to me, “Bandit’s parents make music and art for a job.”
“Excuse me?” Charlotte’s Mommy spits.
“Yes, Karen, Gerard and I write music, and create art, actual art, for a living,” Mommy had that voice, the voice she only uses when she very angry.
“What is your stage persona then, Lindsey?”
What’s a persona?
“Lyn-Z, is the name I go by when I perform,” Mommy says, still the same mad voice, “I play bass of the band Mindless Self Indulgence.”
“What about your drunk husband?”
“MY DADDY’S NOT DRUNK!” I yell, knowing that drunk was not a nice thing.
“I use to sing of the band My chemical Romance, the band that the kids were sing before you showed up, but now have a solo project, called Gerard Way,” This is the calmest I have ever heard my Daddy talk around the girl.
“Oh, so you are the drunk, who’s pants fell off on stage, made out with the guitarist, and is believed to be involved in incest,” This woman was mean.
“If you are done terrorising my brother, and his family, would you kindly leave his house, with you lovely child, who I am sure would be allowed back, just not you, before I call the police,” I saw my Uncle Mikey standing there, looking cross, not that it was unusual, he always did.
“Come on Charlotte, we’re leaving,” Charlotte’s Mommy grabbed her hand, “Say goodbye.”
“Goodbye, thanks for having me, and sorry for my Mommy,” She said, looking at us, “She is always like this.”
And with that, they left.


“Goodnight Bandit,” My Daddy said, standing up from the bed and turning to leave.
Before he turned off the light, a questioned popped into my head.
“Wait, Daddy,” I asked.
“Yes Bee,” He replied, turning around.
“What did Charlotte’s Mommy mean by ‘Inzet’?” I question.
“Oh, um, Incest?” Daddy said, his face pink, “Y-you’ll understand when you’re older. Goodnight.”
And with that, he left before I could ask any more questions.

Notes