Miss Lestrade

Yeah. Squirrels are a bit of an inside joke for me and my friends. We also had 'Rabid squirrel' and 'possessed squirrel'. :dance:

Gah. I leave for like, one or two hours and I this is what I get. I'm testing out my signature. Hmm...

That's awesome; I've never seen it before either. *saves right away*

Okaaaaaay. :laugh3:

What, really? But...I...never mind. xD

Here's the real Part 4, now that my horrific incident of embarrassment is over! :laugh3: I like this one. --------------- Will stumbled down the hallway, hammering away at Chris’s door. He heard a feral growl from somewhere inside and took a step back. The door swung open, revealing a very pale, very angry Chris Martin. “What?” he hissed. “I’ve got an idea, mate, about why we’re sick.” Chris sighed, replacing the angry look with exasperation. “Okay. Why?” “Remember that creamy dessert we had last night that the others didn’t?” “Yes…” Chris knew where this was going. “You think we’ve got food poisoning?” “Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Chris nodded. “So how do you make it…stop?” “Ahh…is that even possible?” “It’d better be!” he hissed, making Will take another step back. “Wow, Chris, you are really not pleasant when you’re sick.” Wrong thing to say. Chris’s jaw twitched, and a moment later, the door slammed shut in Will’s face. “I’m sick too, you bastard!” he snapped. Jonny suddenly appeared out of the door on the other side of Chris’s. “What’s all the yelling?” “Chris is being a bitch!” “Will’s being a bitch!” Chris had come back to argue. “Oh my god, shut UP!” called Guy, coming out of nowhere. “I can’t watch SpongeBob with all this fucking arguing between you idiots!” He stormed back to his room, leaving the others in silent shock. “This is a waste of time. Will, what did they say when you called about the show tonight?” “Ah…” “You CALLED them?” “Chris…” “OH MY GOD, WILL!” “You can barely stand; how can you perform?” “I can sit most of the time! We can’t miss it!” “Relax, Chris, we’re going to try and make it...” added Jonny, wincing. “Mate, do you want to pass out onstage?” “I’d rather do that than not show up at all!” “Did I not make myself clear?” howled Guy from inside his room. “That’s IT. Go…somewhere else! Both of you!” yelled Jonny. Chris eyed him before slinking back into his darkened room. Will stormed off as well, wishing Chris would be attacked by a schizophrenic squirrel. Unfortunately, that probably wouldn’t happen. Just an angry squirrel, then. He laughed, immersing himself in his feverish thoughts. "Oh, lord..." he moaned, suddenly dizzy. This was just not his day.

Okay, wow. It's ancient. :/

I'm not sure if there's a thread like this, but I know I haven't seen one, so here it is! Anyway, the night before yesterday, I was in this weird, feverish dream-state. I kept seeing Coldplay everywhere...like them rehearsing and snapping at each other. And it was almost like I was one of them (Guy, I think). And I kept thinking, "What's Chris doing? Why can't I sleep? Jonny, get that bunny hat off! Will, I said I wanted chocolate, not vanilla!" It was weird because Chris is my favorite, but I was looking through Guy's eyes. :thinking:

That was the best thing ever. Chris is just so...:rolleyes:

I think the band should vote on who's the sexiest. That would be interesting. I don't think anyone would vote for themselves...would they? :rolleyes:

Gravity. :wings:

Uh...The Killers. No, wait! U2. Oh my god that would be sooooo awesome! :wacky:

I wish they would do another like the 2006 one (oh, good times). Then again, they are really busy on tour and all. :dozey:

I don't know. It's alright, I suppose. :\

That was GREAT! I love how Guy's the smart, attentive one but no one acknowledges his existence. :lol:

ARGH, damn that Berryman! Would Chris get mad if we grabbed Guy, tied him up, and threw him in a stall in the girl's bathroom? :confused:

Hey! The box thingy! I didn't know it was automatic. Yeah, I'm new here. xD

[ame=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lhuq9CAqol4&feature=channel_page] *speechless* [/ame] I don't think this has ever been posted. You must see this! It's at the end of Viva la vida (the concert I was at! :smug:) and he just lays down on the stage for some time before doing this awesome little roll to flip back up. IT'S FREAKING AWESOME JUST WATCH IT.

*chokes, shudders, and dies* Will (the legal kind): I want Coldplay to play at my funeral. If you can't get all of them at least get Chris Martin to sing Trouble. Give all my possessions to my parents and my brother (except the Coldplay albums which will be buried with me). Send my apologies to the Coldplaying thread (with a copy of the lyrics of Trouble). My ego has been thoroughly destroyed. *sits in a corner and starts muttering about moving to Switzerland* But the story can still apply... it just makes Jonny Buckland look like an idiot too. Sorry Jon.

Part 4, friends. :rolleyes: -------------- Guy, bored, was surfing the internet. He was so bored that he soon made his way over to Coldplaying.com. He sighed, running through the forum lists. "Hmm. Fanfiction? I wonder what they write about us." he skimmed through the pages, laughing at some of the work, cringing at others. "Guy sex? I hope that doesn't mean me. Oh, it can't be. Oh, christ, do I dare?" he muttered to himself. He took a deep breath and read. Then he blanched, gagging. "Oh, my god...oh my god..." "Guy?" asked Jonny, appearing at his door to get something. Guy screamed. "What? What's wrong?" squeaked Jonny. "I HAVE TO GO." Guy ran past him, flying down the hall so fast he nearly tripped twice. "What's wrong with him?" murmured Jonny to himself. He eyed Guy's computer, wondering if that was Coldplaying.com he had been looking at. Jonny slid down in front of it, quickly reading what was on the screen. "Hmm. Men's room...Chris kissing...I- oh. Oh no. NO, no, no...NO!" the rest was lost in a choked cry of horror. He felt bile rise in his throat. He closed the laptop, terrible images he'd rather not see racing through his mind. "WHY?" he screamed. He ran out into the hall, stumbling into Chris's room. "CHRIS. WHERE ARE YOU?" "What? WHAT?" snapped Chris, laying on the floor next to the toilet. His ears were ringing with his friend's screeches. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT, JONNY?" Jonny ignored him. "Never ever take me into the men's room. EVER! And just in case...keep your hands to yourself, you sick bastard!" Chris stared at him, utterly confused. He blinked. "What are you talking about, man?" "Nothing. Just...don't touch me." Jonny ran away, leaving Chris wondering what the hell that was all about. He thought for a moment. "Jesus...it's sounds like he's been reading the fanfiction thread at Coldplaying! But no...he wouldn't be that masochistic." sighed Chris. He nestled against the bathtub, chuckling quietly to himself. Poor, poor Jonny. -------------- Okay, so that wasn't the real part 4, but I HAD to post it! xD

Yeah, do you have the original pics you used? Please say yes! "If you'd only, if you'd only say yes...whether your will's anybody's guess..." xD

A Rush of Blood to the Head: "So I'm going to buy a gun and start a war If you can tell me something worth fighting for..." Swallowed in the Sea: "And I could write a book, the one they'll say that shook the world and then it took, it took it back from me..." And SO many more! :flutterby:

Jonny made his way down the hall to check on Will. He’d passed Chris’s room (which had been open), and couldn’t suppress an amused sigh at the sight of the tall man curled into a tiny ball at the foot of his bed. “Alright, Chris?” “Go ‘way, Jonny…but shut the door before you do, yeah?” Jonny had complied, but not before telling him to feel better now. Chris managed to smile gratefully, even though his pain was still evident. Jonny shuffled along the rest of the hallway, reaching Will’s room. He knocked and waited for a minute before knocking again. “God…what?” snapped Will as he threw open the door. Jonny took an automatic step back. “Uh…sorry, mate. You okay?” “No better, really…but not so much worse.” The drummer informed him huskily. Will’s shoulders were hunched, and his face was visibly paler. Jonny bit his lip. “Alright…I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Will also looked grateful at that, and gave him a smile. “Sorry, Jonny. I just hate feeling sick.” “I think we all do.” “Yeah…I was just going to lie down, though…” “Oh, right. Sorry, I’ll go away now.” He wished Will good health and made his way back to his own room. God, he was anxious. He had no idea what Guy was up to, but Jonny figured the bassist was probably sprawled on his bed watching Top Gear…or maybe SpongeBob. Or perhaps some American reality series. There was really no way to tell what Guy would be watching. Jonny supposed he could borrow Guy’s camera and take some pictures, if his friend would even let him come near the thing. At the same time Jonny decided to watch some television himself, Chris was in his bathroom… hugging the toilet bowl and wishing he would just pass out already. ----------------------------- Mmm…sick Chris (and Will)! *evil laugh*

Okay, my fellow coldplayers, here's part 3. ---------- Chris leaned against the arm of the couch as Jonny picked up his notes and guitar and promptly fled the room. He looked sideways at Will as the drummer leaned back in his chair, lying back as far as possible. “Ugh…” they both seemed to moan in unison, earning a chuckle out of Will. “Think we’ve got something?” “I dunno, mate. I still find it funny how you feel fine one second, and then when I say something, you suddenly feel like shit.” “Do I look like shit?” “Sort of. You’re a bit pale, I suppose.” “Ah, really? The fangirls say I look good pale.” “No they don’t.” scoffed Will. He paused. “Do they?” “Yeah…no. No, they don’t. Maybe some of them do…” Chris wasn’t slowing down on the babbling, so Will just decided to tune it out. Chris did sometimes do that; talk himself hoarse on no particular subject. “What do you think?” “What?” “Were you listening?” Chris sounded somewhat lethargic. “Not really.” Will admitted, too uncomfortable to really care. “Okay.” Chris muttered, pulling himself up into a sitting position. “I’m going to go curl up in a fetal position at the foot of my bed…I’ll see ya later, mate.” Will watched him stumble to his room, and was left alone in his. He considered doing the same as Chris said, but decided instead on placing a few calls about the upcoming show and what would happen if they had to miss it. The prospect was terrifying.

Okay, well I guess I'll continue! :) On with Part II. -------------- "Five more minutes, mum." slurred Guy, half asleep. Everyone turned to stare at them, even Chris, who had been in the middle of throwing his shoe at Will. "You're not...wherever you think you are, mate, you're in the hotel." muttered Jonny, airing out his notes. "We're not in London, are we?" "We're in New Jersey, Guy!" snapped Will. "I knew that!" "I'm hungry." "Go get some toast, then!" "I don't want toast...Jonny? Make me some porridge?" "Make it yourself, Chris." said the guitarist, placing his notes back on the table. Guy wiped the side of his mouth disgustedly. "When's the gig?" "Uh...15 hours." supplied Chris, who had gotten up to rummage through one of his bags. They hadn't bothered moving them to the rooms yet. "How long have we been asleep?" "You? Maybe six hours. I've been up most of the time." replied Will tiredly. "Why? What's wrong?" Chris turned to look at Will, his brow creased in worry. He could practically feel himself begin to pale. "Stomach's been botherin' me a bit." he waved dismissively in Chris's direction. "It's nothing, I'll be fine." Jonny sat back against the wall, watching Guy pull bits of fiber out of his shirt. He could tell this was going to be a long day. Chris collapsed back on the couch, rubbing his forehead. "God, mate, why'd you have to mention that? Now I'm feeling a bit sick myself." The others watched, their eyes immediately flicking to each other. What if it was the stomach flu? Oh, god... WHAT IF? Guy slowly stood. "I'll be in my room." he said carefully, making a rush for the door. Jonny watched the bassist's retreat. "Ah...you guys alright?" Will nodded. "Yeah, thanks Jonny. You can get out of here if you want. I mean, I wouldn't want you to get sick...if we are actually sick, and Chris isn't just being stupid." Chris scoffed weakly from his place on the couch.