Sequel to Straight Up Chicago Style. : Six fucking a.m. in Chicago in October, and Gabe can’t believe he’d forgotten how much he missed this.

"What do you want for your birthday, Mr Smith?" "The Mona Lisa." "What...like the painting?" Nobody ever says no to Spencer. Even when he wants something crazy like The Mona Lisa. He collects a group of ten con artists, thieves and rogue government workers to pull off the biggest art heist in history. If it fails...well, Spencer doesn't think about things like that.

Wherein Bob does a good deed and is punished. Pete Wentz is now in his life, and with Pete come a myriad of things Bob had seen in that monster movie marathon last month (up to and sometimes including Patrick Stump, Joe Trohman, Andy Hurley, and Matt Cortez). And Brian still refuses to pay Bob what he’s worth. He wants top shelf, damn it, especially if he has to deal with Pete Wentz for the foreseeable future and deal with the pets of gods sprouting prophesies about something that should have been a myth. Then, just to make matters worse, Bob meets Frank Iero and his Gang of Incompetent Misfits. Sometimes Bob thinks he would have preferred to have been eaten in that alley. “Vampires exist. Werewolves, demons, shapeshifters, zombies, every terrifying monster you ever feared was hiding under your bed is real, and a lot of them want to eat you for dinner.” “Some of them even live under your bed!” Joe adds helpfully. "Just for the added convenience."

One night, on a whim, Gerard sends an email to Top Gear asking if he can be a guest on their show. After one week, a dozen more emails and a three-way phone call with Richard Hammond and Pete Wentz, he's invented a new motorsport instead. This fic covers the events of the First Annual Cross Country Tour Bus Race, including Pete Wentz getting kicked off his own bus, Panic and the Veins swapping members four times, and ending with a concert where the winner plays the final set and the band in last place plays a song in the nude.

The therapists said I was depressed. I was too exhausted to fight them on the diagnoses. That was what our little road-trip was about. Trying to find my Guide before I ended up in the New Jersey Center for Disturbed Sentinels. In reality, finding my guide didn't really matter to me anymore. All I wanted was to make sure Gerard found his Guide before her turned back to the drugs.