Spencer and Jon have won the poll. And my heart.

Say, does anyone have a good picture of the Panic! boys' pants? I feel the need to create a new default pants to match icon, and I can't find a really good one with them all together and showing off their pants. They don't have to match, but they must be awesome.

I've upgraded my web site to a domain, yet it's not active yet, and in the mean time none of my stats are being recorded on my old site, and it's frustrating because I'm compulsive and must check my stats five times a day. Plus, they messed up my billing, so instead of just 72 hours before it's active, it's been more like a week. I spent an hour on the phone with them last night trying to get it straightened out, and if it's not up by tonight I'm seriously going to go postal or something.

So Panic! is going to Nantucket. I'm doing it in an entirely different style than my first prompt, so it's probably going to be a lot shorter. We shall see.

“Hi, hey, I’m Jon,” the guy in the bathroom says. Spencer looks into the warped mirror, sees this scruffy guy with a guitar strapped to his back.

Very slowly, Spencer says, “Hello.” He’s heard about bathroom crazies before. He doesn’t want to startle him into, say, doing something homicidal.

“You didn’t happen to see any, um, really angry guys outside, did you? About yae high,” he holds a hand nearly a foot over his head, “leathery, sweating like stuck pigs?”

Spencer arches an eyebrow. “No.” He turns on the water, washing his hands and trying not to think about how many germs were having a party all over the faucet.

“Good, great, thank—”

And that’s when the door busts in.