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Description
A/N: Much like the last, this chapter was inspired by random roleplaying with my friends. (So yeah, it's still pretty crackish.) You'll get to meet a few more people, though! And soon, they're going to start buckling down (a bit) on the show!

Disclaimer: In this chapter I only own Tennessee, Illinois, Montana, Missouri and Mississippi. All of the others belong to various friends, who I credited in my last chapter. You guys know who you are!


                                        Tryouts and Tribulations

"Hey, Juno, can you get the milk for the pancakes?" New Hampshire, the family's resident cooking-fanatic, was making breakfast as usual. Not an easy task when you were cooking for 50 people, most of who had extremely large appetites.

But when Alaska grabbed the carton of milk out the fridge like she was asked, she didn't see that the one she picked up was labeled "The Dairy King's Milk, DO NOT TOUCH."

"Hey!" Wisconsin screamed as he saw Juno grabbing the carton out of the fridge. In a second flat he'd ran over and taken the carton from her. "Don't touch my milk!"

"Danny, why are you talking kind of…?" Alaska trailed off quietly.

"What?"

Juno shook her head dismissively. Wisconsin couldn't be drunk - all he ever drank was milk.

Of course, she didn't know that Danny, knowing America wouldn't let him have beer, always spiked his carton.

"So, Danny, what are you singing for the audition?" New Hampshire asked as he was handed a different milk carton.

"Well, I couldn't decide so I just picked whatever I opened the song book up to. But, it opened onto this chick 'Linda's Song,' so I did the next one. It's 'Single.'"

New Hampshire smiled as he flipped over the pancakes. "Figures that you'd - DARCY!"

Mississippi, who had just ran into the kitchen, had ran right into New Hampshire, causing the steaming pan to fall to the floor.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She blushed as she twirled her hands through her long ponytail, which stood for the Mississippi River. "Rehearsal's going to start soon, Texas told me to come get you guys."

"But - the pancakes -"

"Forget them!" As if summoned by her name Jessie ran in. Seeing the steam rolling off the cracked pan she swiftly took the nozzle of the sink and sprayed cold water on it. "It's not even noon, and you broke something already," she lamented.

Pouting and grumbling about how the pancakes were going to be chocolate chip, New Hamshire followed Texas with the rest of the states out the door.

                                                             *****

As it is with any audition, waiting to go was the worse part.

"Can you guys keep it down please?" Oklahoma tapped her feet anxiously "I'm studying the lyrics!"

The volume level of the bickering and talking didn't change - it was amazing no one lost it.

Well, that wasn't totally true. Texas did, a bit, getting so annoyed at Indiana that she gave him a famous Texan-wedgie. But she'd been mad at him anyway.

"Jessie, what the hell?!" Henry had screamed, eyes watering.

"You had to see this one coming," she laughed as he fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

"Are you okay?" Tennessee looked down on him with wide eyes, biting her lower lip to stifle any small giggle that may have slipped through. Indiana didn't answer; he only let out another whine of pain as Idaho tried to help him stand up.

Tennessee shook her head and looked up, raising an eyebrow at Texas. "Jessie, did you really have to do that to Henry?"

Texas shrugged. "You know it's funny, and that he deserved it."

But before Tennessee could protest to her friend on poor IN's behalf, one of the hall doors opened.

"Tennessee and Alabama!" America's receptionist, who looked peeved as usual, called out the door. There were so many people that Alfred had decided that those who were singing the same song - and who could get along well enough - should audition together.

The room was small and felt rather claustrophobic. Alfred's receptionist sat down huffily in the corner, checking something off on her clipboard. And two countries sat at the table.

"So, what are you guys singing?" France, who was a big fan of music, had decided to help America with the audition process. Tennessee was usually a bit uncomfortable around him, but Alabama, France's son, was there. France wouldn't be that bad in front of him - right?

Tennessee stroked the neck of her guitar as she gave Alabama a small reassuring smile. "You'll see," she said in a sing-song tone.

Alba strummed the first note on Nashville, and Richie, who was an amateur guitarist, watched her fingers pluck the strings. The two sang "Grow Old With You" in perfect harmony:

"I'll miss you, kiss you,

Take your shoes off and rub your feet.

Need you, feed you,

And when we play checkers I'll let you cheat.

So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink,

Put you to bed when you've had too much to drink.

Oh I could be the one who grows old with you.

I want to grow old with you."

Tennessee beamed at Alabama as he ducked his head shyly. Besides a "good job," they didn't expect any comments - any opinions would be shown clearly enough on the cast list. But that didn't stop France.

"Oh, mes amours! You too look tres mignons together!" While Alba simply looked awkward, Alabama looked away, whining "Dad…she's practically my sister!"

It was sort of true. They weren't blood-related states, but they'd all just about grown up together, even if they all weren't close. It would have weirded them out if anyone had suggested it - that it came from France just made it creepy.

France shrugged, as if this shouldn't be a problem, while America told them to send in the next people.

                                                        *****

If the last audition hadn't been odd enough, the next one would be. Louisiana had chosen to sing "Single" because it just fit him. Wisconsin chose to sing it because it's what his song book had flipped open to. The two weren't exactly close, but they had no qualms with each other.

"Hi, Dad!" Louisiana said excitedly once he saw France there. He wasn't the only French state, but he certainly was the most like him. With his light hair and clear blue eyes (and French accent), Eduard he was what most girls would consider attractive. He was also what most of the other states considered a man-whore.

"What are you singing, mon fils?" France asked, smiling. He had a few kids who were states, but he was closest to LA.

" 'Single,'" Eduard said, looking a bit too proud.

"Oh, that's perfect for -"

America cleared his throat to interrupt them.

"Oh, right," France said with a sly grin.

"No one minds the laundry on your floor."

"No one pouts with every chick you look at."

"No one tries to clean you're porno drawer," Louisiana sang, winking at his father. Danny simply shook his head, somewhat shocked even though he knew he truly shouldn't be.

"No one traps you with -"

" 'Does my ass look fat?!'"

One thing that needed to be said for the two - they were amusing. Between Danny's slight drunken slurring and Louisiana's suggestive sways, there were only two natural reactions to the performance: putting your head in your hands or just laughing.

"Aw, it was drole, boys. Tres drole."

America bit a French fry, sharp with annoyance. "France! This is my production - don't go around giving everyone comments!"

"Alfred, I only -"

"Okay, boys, go on," America sighed. "Nothing to see here."

                                                         *****

The next person to walk in, Missouri, came in to see France with a duct-taped mouth and hands tied behind his back. He didn't question it, though. He was a state, and he was just as used to weird crap as Jessie.

"So, America, listen. Musicals…well, they're not my thing. So I'd really rather not even audition."

America frowned, seeming offended. "Come on, you've at least gotta try, Sawyer!"

"No, not really," he replied, rubbing the scar on his cheek awkwardly. He had gotten it during the Civil War, from the St. Louis Massacre. Sawyer had been pretty young when it had happened, and it had really shaped his outlook on everything. It had given him his scar, which he rubbed as a nervous twitch. It had given him a friend in quiet Connecticut, who had really seemed to care when he was hurt, and who he'd felt awful for after the poor guy was blinded in one eye. It had made him tough, stubborn, blunt.

The kind of person who didn't want to put up with musical fluff.

However, he did care about America. And he didn't like seeing him look so pissed off, so he sighed and sang one verse:

"So when it's your wedding day

And my music starts to play

I can guarantee that love will find you.

Oh when it's your wedding day

All our problems melt away

If you count on me, 'cause love is what I do."

He didn't have the best voice to begin with, but still he sang the bit of music purposely as off key as he could manage. The verse had everything he hated about musicals wrapped up in one sparkly froo-froo package. Sadly, he'd heard a few of the male states practicing it enough times to memorize that much.

"Can I go now?"

France was mumbling in protest under his restraints. America, however, simply nodded with disappointment.

                                                           *****

Later that day, after the singing auditions and the mass dancing one, not everyone was in the best mood. Some were anxious, some were nervous, some were pissed off, some were depressed - you get the point. This led Texas to an idea that could kill two birds with one stone.

"Hey everyone, come down to the living room - it's important!" Jessie took her finger off the intercom button which connected to a small speaker in everyone's room. It was a big house, and there was pretty much no other way to inform everyone of anything.

Tennessee was the first one down the stairs. "Is it the cast list?" she asked anxiously.

"Nope, it's even better. You'll see," Jessie said with a mischievous smile.

Alba narrowed her eyes in mock-consternation. "Should I be afraid?"

"Not you," Texas replied matter-of-factly.

Everyone else followed suit, many with similar queries about whether this was related to the play or "who's hurt now?"

"So, I figured to take our minds off of all this musical stuff, we could all go to a rodeo!"

Most of the states which were considered to be "hicks," even Montana, smiled or let out some sort of "yeehaw" sound at the suggestion. The rest of them didn't look so thrilled.

"Why?" Indiana questioned suspiciously.

Jessie shrugged, trying to look indifferent to his inquiries. "Well, it'll cheer everyone up. And…well, consider it an apology for what I did earlier." She looked at him, her brown eyes big and pleading.

Indiana should have been suspicious of this, especially considering Texas was the grudgey-type. However, he was also a bit of a softy. "Okay," he sighed with a small smile.

"I don't want to go to some rodeo," Massachusetts said. He wasn't trying to be mean or anything, he was just being…well, Linus.

"But you'll really like this one!" Texas insisted. "Trust me, I've got something special planned for y'all."

So after a few minutes of convincing, and then another few or dividing everyone up into different cars, everyone was on their way to the rodeo. Texas's car led the long line.

Tennessee, who had insisted on driving due to a slight fear of Texas's road rage, turned her head slightly to the redhead in the passenger seat. "Come on, Jessie, spill. What have you got up your sleeve?"

"Nothing!" she protested as if hurt. But when Alba raised an eyebrow at her, she smiled. "Nothing much, anyway."

"Another revenge thing?" Montana, who was sitting in the back, leaned her chin on Jessie's seat.

"You'll see, Terra," Jessie sing-songed.

It took them almost an hour to get to the nearest rodeo.

"Super fun, Tex; who doesn't love a long car ride?" Illinois jabbed sarcastically, getting out of the car Indiana drove.

Jessie smiled mischievously. "It'll be more than worth it."

They all walked up by the large doors, which an even larger man stood in front of. He was big, buff, and bald. It sort of figured, yet was still a bit of a surprise, that Texas seemed acquainted with him.

She nodded to the southern Incredible Hulk. "Hey, Billy."

He tipped his large cowboy hat at her. "And what are y'all in for today, Miss Jones?"

Getting up on her tiptoes, she whispered into the man's ear.

In response Billy rubbed his stubble thoughtfully. "You sure?"

"Positive."

Shrugging in a "oh well, it's your choice" type of way, Billy lead them inside and through crowds of people. A bunch of men and women in cowboy hats and handkerchiefs were talking and laughing, swigging large cups of beer. They were gathered around the bar, around a small indoor racetrack, and around another spectacle. What it was, the states couldn't tell; the people were so tight packed.

"Y'all go grab good seats; I just need to show Henry here something," Jessie chimed, tugging on Indiana's arm.

"I'll save you a seat bro," Illinois said as he walked away with the other states.

"Don't put gum in it!" Henry called.

Texas walked around with him, leading him to the stables by the large attraction. "So what's back here?" he asked nervously.

"This guy," Jessie said beaming. She rose her arms gesturing to a large bull in a pen. Its black fur and eyes gleamed in the light.

Indiana's eyes widened. "What is that?" He jumped back.

"He's my pet bull." She stepped forward and rubbed his nose affectionately, making sure to cover the name plate on the fence that said El Diablo.

Henry shook his head. "First a stallion named Satan, now this?"

"Yup!" She walked over to a nail on the wall, grabbing a saddle. "And you're going to ride him."

"What?! Hell no!" he exclaimed. "Are you crazy?"

"No, he's really gentle," Jessie insisted. "This is my way to make it up to you. You'll have a lot of fun!"

"But -"

"I planned this just for you." Jessie twisted the end of her braid in a dejected way. "I thought you'd like it…"

"It's not that, it's just - that thing could kill me!"

"That's not true," she protested. "You're a state - you can't die that easily. Besides, I wouldn't let you. This guy is harmless." Even as she was trying to convince him, she was settling the black bull up.

"Well…I don't know." Indiana sounded hesitant, but Jessie knew that she had him.

In a few minutes Henry was climbing up a small stepladder into the leather saddle. "Holy crap, it's really high up here!" He looked down in panic.

Texas smiled reassuringly. "Just hold on tight and squeeze with your knees - you won't fall off, I promise." Her eyes seemed to darken slightly as she said it, but Henry ignored the observation, figuring it was just a trick of the light.

"Now, got get 'em!" She handed him a cowboy hat which he strapped onto his head and lead him out into the ring with the large crowd gathered round.

"And next up - Henry Jones!" The announcers voice rang through the ring.

"Hey, there's Indiana!" Idaho pointed into the middle of the ring.

"Woah!" New York, who had managed to get a beer without Linus noticing, did a spit take.

"What is he doing?" Virginia asked Massachusetts in alarm.

"I have no idea, Avery. Not a clue."

At first Indiana wasn't half bad. The bull bucked around a little bit, but he held on pretty good. "Whooooooohooo!" He screamed, letting go with one hand and waving it above his head.

That set El Diablo off.

The bull started to jump around like crazy, and in an instant Henry's face changed from ecstasy to fear.

Seeming to realize the danger, Illinois stopped laughing and looked genuinely afraid. "Roll off it, dude!"

Indiana nodded, throwing all his weight to one side - only, he didn't fall off. "What the -?!"

Annoyed with the weight on his back, the bull started to get rather ferocious. He ran up to the edge of the pin, knocking his unfortunate rider into the side.

"Jessie, you didn't!" Tennessee shook her friend's shoulder.

Texas shrugged uncomfortably. "Maybe I didn't think this one through…"

"MOTHER - OW!" The bull had gotten enough of running into the wall, so it started to run in tight circles that made everyone dizzy just looking at it. "GET ME OFF THIS THING!" At this point Henry's eyes were watering as he screamed in hysteria.

"Roll off!" Illinois called again as the bull passed by near them. It didn't matter that the ground was a good few feet down - it had to be better than riding that thing.

"I'M STUCK!"

Seeming to realize that there wasn't any other way off, Indiana threw away whatever was left of his dignity and unbuckled his belt, sliding out of his pants.

He tumbled to the ground (in his Colts boxers) with a thud, rolling a bit before the announcer rang the buzzer. "Y'all take a five minute recess while we fix out some, um, technical difficulties," the voice over the speaker said.

"Henry!" As the crowd dispersed Illinois hopped over the side, running over to his brother. "Dude, are you okay? What the hell?!"

Idaho followed, running up and hugging him, wiping a few stray tears off of Henry's face. "Don't cry, Henry," he said, holding on to him tight. "It's over."

Normally Jessie would've found the sight insanely adorably, but she was too busy being glared at. And not just by Henry, whose eyes bored at her through the blood on his face.

"I'm - Shit, I'm really sorry, guys," she whined, her eyes pleading genuinely for the first time that day. "I didn't think it would go that far…"

"That far? You -" His eyes widened in realization "-you stuck magnets into the saddle, didn't you?!" Indiana looked at her in disbelief.

"And the back of your pants when I did the laundry," she admitted. "But I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

"What were you thinking?" Massachusetts asked as New Jersey tended to Indiana's wounds with the first-aid kit he seemed able to conjure out of thin air.

"That I wanted to get back at him." Normally she would've seemed defensive, but this time Jessie really knew she was wrong.

"And you guys think I'm messed up," New York said drunkenly.

                                                         *****

"I am so dead…" Texas groaned as she walked up to the door of their large house. A few of the states had gone with Indiana to the hospital. (Although New Jersey had seemed to patch him up pretty well, Nicolas had still insisted that he could've missed something.)

Tennessee patted her shoulder sympathetically. "Maybe it won't be too bad," she suggested half-heartedly. Even she didn't totally believe that.

"Well, it was sort of mean of you," Mississippi chirped sheepishly, walking past.

"Really, Darcy? I had no clue!" Texas snapped.

"Chill, okay? Maybe he won't be hurt too bad," Alba said.

Jessie was about to reply, but New York's voice interrupted her.

"Yo, guys!" He walked out onto the front steps, waving a piece of paper. "The cast list is here!"

Description
A/N: Much like the last, this chapter was inspired by random roleplaying with my friends. (So yeah, it's still pretty crackish.) You'll get to meet a few more people, though! And soon, they're going to start buckling down (a bit) on the show!

Disclaimer: In this chapter I only own Tennessee, Illinois, Montana, Missouri and Mississippi. All of the others belong to various friends, who I credited in my last chapter. You guys know who you are!


                                        Tryouts and Tribulations

"Hey, Juno, can you get the milk for the pancakes?" New Hampshire, the family's resident cooking-fanatic, was making breakfast as usual. Not an easy task when you were cooking for 50 people, most of who had extremely large appetites.

But when Alaska grabbed the carton of milk out the fridge like she was asked, she didn't see that the one she picked up was labeled "The Dairy King's Milk, DO NOT TOUCH."

"Hey!" Wisconsin screamed as he saw Juno grabbing the carton out of the fridge. In a second flat he'd ran over and taken the carton from her. "Don't touch my milk!"

"Danny, why are you talking kind of…?" Alaska trailed off quietly.

"What?"

Juno shook her head dismissively. Wisconsin couldn't be drunk - all he ever drank was milk.

Of course, she didn't know that Danny, knowing America wouldn't let him have beer, always spiked his carton.

"So, Danny, what are you singing for the audition?" New Hampshire asked as he was handed a different milk carton.

"Well, I couldn't decide so I just picked whatever I opened the song book up to. But, it opened onto this chick 'Linda's Song,' so I did the next one. It's 'Single.'"

New Hampshire smiled as he flipped over the pancakes. "Figures that you'd - DARCY!"

Mississippi, who had just ran into the kitchen, had ran right into New Hampshire, causing the steaming pan to fall to the floor.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She blushed as she twirled her hands through her long ponytail, which stood for the Mississippi River. "Rehearsal's going to start soon, Texas told me to come get you guys."

"But - the pancakes -"

"Forget them!" As if summoned by her name Jessie ran in. Seeing the steam rolling off the cracked pan she swiftly took the nozzle of the sink and sprayed cold water on it. "It's not even noon, and you broke something already," she lamented.

Pouting and grumbling about how the pancakes were going to be chocolate chip, New Hamshire followed Texas with the rest of the states out the door.

                                                             *****

As it is with any audition, waiting to go was the worse part.

"Can you guys keep it down please?" Oklahoma tapped her feet anxiously "I'm studying the lyrics!"

The volume level of the bickering and talking didn't change - it was amazing no one lost it.

Well, that wasn't totally true. Texas did, a bit, getting so annoyed at Indiana that she gave him a famous Texan-wedgie. But she'd been mad at him anyway.

"Jessie, what the hell?!" Henry had screamed, eyes watering.

"You had to see this one coming," she laughed as he fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

"Are you okay?" Tennessee looked down on him with wide eyes, biting her lower lip to stifle any small giggle that may have slipped through. Indiana didn't answer; he only let out another whine of pain as Idaho tried to help him stand up.

Tennessee shook her head and looked up, raising an eyebrow at Texas. "Jessie, did you really have to do that to Henry?"

Texas shrugged. "You know it's funny, and that he deserved it."

But before Tennessee could protest to her friend on poor IN's behalf, one of the hall doors opened.

"Tennessee and Alabama!" America's receptionist, who looked peeved as usual, called out the door. There were so many people that Alfred had decided that those who were singing the same song - and who could get along well enough - should audition together.

The room was small and felt rather claustrophobic. Alfred's receptionist sat down huffily in the corner, checking something off on her clipboard. And two countries sat at the table.

"So, what are you guys singing?" France, who was a big fan of music, had decided to help America with the audition process. Tennessee was usually a bit uncomfortable around him, but Alabama, France's son, was there. France wouldn't be that bad in front of him - right?

Tennessee stroked the neck of her guitar as she gave Alabama a small reassuring smile. "You'll see," she said in a sing-song tone.

Alba strummed the first note on Nashville, and Richie, who was an amateur guitarist, watched her fingers pluck the strings. The two sang "Grow Old With You" in perfect harmony:

"I'll miss you, kiss you,

Take your shoes off and rub your feet.

Need you, feed you,

And when we play checkers I'll let you cheat.

So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink,

Put you to bed when you've had too much to drink.

Oh I could be the one who grows old with you.

I want to grow old with you."

Tennessee beamed at Alabama as he ducked his head shyly. Besides a "good job," they didn't expect any comments - any opinions would be shown clearly enough on the cast list. But that didn't stop France.

"Oh, mes amours! You too look tres mignons together!" While Alba simply looked awkward, Alabama looked away, whining "Dad…she's practically my sister!"

It was sort of true. They weren't blood-related states, but they'd all just about grown up together, even if they all weren't close. It would have weirded them out if anyone had suggested it - that it came from France just made it creepy.

France shrugged, as if this shouldn't be a problem, while America told them to send in the next people.

                                                        *****

If the last audition hadn't been odd enough, the next one would be. Louisiana had chosen to sing "Single" because it just fit him. Wisconsin chose to sing it because it's what his song book had flipped open to. The two weren't exactly close, but they had no qualms with each other.

"Hi, Dad!" Louisiana said excitedly once he saw France there. He wasn't the only French state, but he certainly was the most like him. With his light hair and clear blue eyes (and French accent), Eduard he was what most girls would consider attractive. He was also what most of the other states considered a man-whore.

"What are you singing, mon fils?" France asked, smiling. He had a few kids who were states, but he was closest to LA.

" 'Single,'" Eduard said, looking a bit too proud.

"Oh, that's perfect for -"

America cleared his throat to interrupt them.

"Oh, right," France said with a sly grin.

"No one minds the laundry on your floor."

"No one pouts with every chick you look at."

"No one tries to clean you're porno drawer," Louisiana sang, winking at his father. Danny simply shook his head, somewhat shocked even though he knew he truly shouldn't be.

"No one traps you with -"

" 'Does my ass look fat?!'"

One thing that needed to be said for the two - they were amusing. Between Danny's slight drunken slurring and Louisiana's suggestive sways, there were only two natural reactions to the performance: putting your head in your hands or just laughing.

"Aw, it was drole, boys. Tres drole."

America bit a French fry, sharp with annoyance. "France! This is my production - don't go around giving everyone comments!"

"Alfred, I only -"

"Okay, boys, go on," America sighed. "Nothing to see here."

                                                         *****

The next person to walk in, Missouri, came in to see France with a duct-taped mouth and hands tied behind his back. He didn't question it, though. He was a state, and he was just as used to weird crap as Jessie.

"So, America, listen. Musicals…well, they're not my thing. So I'd really rather not even audition."

America frowned, seeming offended. "Come on, you've at least gotta try, Sawyer!"

"No, not really," he replied, rubbing the scar on his cheek awkwardly. He had gotten it during the Civil War, from the St. Louis Massacre. Sawyer had been pretty young when it had happened, and it had really shaped his outlook on everything. It had given him his scar, which he rubbed as a nervous twitch. It had given him a friend in quiet Connecticut, who had really seemed to care when he was hurt, and who he'd felt awful for after the poor guy was blinded in one eye. It had made him tough, stubborn, blunt.

The kind of person who didn't want to put up with musical fluff.

However, he did care about America. And he didn't like seeing him look so pissed off, so he sighed and sang one verse:

"So when it's your wedding day

And my music starts to play

I can guarantee that love will find you.

Oh when it's your wedding day

All our problems melt away

If you count on me, 'cause love is what I do."

He didn't have the best voice to begin with, but still he sang the bit of music purposely as off key as he could manage. The verse had everything he hated about musicals wrapped up in one sparkly froo-froo package. Sadly, he'd heard a few of the male states practicing it enough times to memorize that much.

"Can I go now?"

France was mumbling in protest under his restraints. America, however, simply nodded with disappointment.

                                                           *****

Later that day, after the singing auditions and the mass dancing one, not everyone was in the best mood. Some were anxious, some were nervous, some were pissed off, some were depressed - you get the point. This led Texas to an idea that could kill two birds with one stone.

"Hey everyone, come down to the living room - it's important!" Jessie took her finger off the intercom button which connected to a small speaker in everyone's room. It was a big house, and there was pretty much no other way to inform everyone of anything.

Tennessee was the first one down the stairs. "Is it the cast list?" she asked anxiously.

"Nope, it's even better. You'll see," Jessie said with a mischievous smile.

Alba narrowed her eyes in mock-consternation. "Should I be afraid?"

"Not you," Texas replied matter-of-factly.

Everyone else followed suit, many with similar queries about whether this was related to the play or "who's hurt now?"

"So, I figured to take our minds off of all this musical stuff, we could all go to a rodeo!"

Most of the states which were considered to be "hicks," even Montana, smiled or let out some sort of "yeehaw" sound at the suggestion. The rest of them didn't look so thrilled.

"Why?" Indiana questioned suspiciously.

Jessie shrugged, trying to look indifferent to his inquiries. "Well, it'll cheer everyone up. And…well, consider it an apology for what I did earlier." She looked at him, her brown eyes big and pleading.

Indiana should have been suspicious of this, especially considering Texas was the grudgey-type. However, he was also a bit of a softy. "Okay," he sighed with a small smile.

"I don't want to go to some rodeo," Massachusetts said. He wasn't trying to be mean or anything, he was just being…well, Linus.

"But you'll really like this one!" Texas insisted. "Trust me, I've got something special planned for y'all."

So after a few minutes of convincing, and then another few or dividing everyone up into different cars, everyone was on their way to the rodeo. Texas's car led the long line.

Tennessee, who had insisted on driving due to a slight fear of Texas's road rage, turned her head slightly to the redhead in the passenger seat. "Come on, Jessie, spill. What have you got up your sleeve?"

"Nothing!" she protested as if hurt. But when Alba raised an eyebrow at her, she smiled. "Nothing much, anyway."

"Another revenge thing?" Montana, who was sitting in the back, leaned her chin on Jessie's seat.

"You'll see, Terra," Jessie sing-songed.

It took them almost an hour to get to the nearest rodeo.

"Super fun, Tex; who doesn't love a long car ride?" Illinois jabbed sarcastically, getting out of the car Indiana drove.

Jessie smiled mischievously. "It'll be more than worth it."

They all walked up by the large doors, which an even larger man stood in front of. He was big, buff, and bald. It sort of figured, yet was still a bit of a surprise, that Texas seemed acquainted with him.

She nodded to the southern Incredible Hulk. "Hey, Billy."

He tipped his large cowboy hat at her. "And what are y'all in for today, Miss Jones?"

Getting up on her tiptoes, she whispered into the man's ear.

In response Billy rubbed his stubble thoughtfully. "You sure?"

"Positive."

Shrugging in a "oh well, it's your choice" type of way, Billy lead them inside and through crowds of people. A bunch of men and women in cowboy hats and handkerchiefs were talking and laughing, swigging large cups of beer. They were gathered around the bar, around a small indoor racetrack, and around another spectacle. What it was, the states couldn't tell; the people were so tight packed.

"Y'all go grab good seats; I just need to show Henry here something," Jessie chimed, tugging on Indiana's arm.

"I'll save you a seat bro," Illinois said as he walked away with the other states.

"Don't put gum in it!" Henry called.

Texas walked around with him, leading him to the stables by the large attraction. "So what's back here?" he asked nervously.

"This guy," Jessie said beaming. She rose her arms gesturing to a large bull in a pen. Its black fur and eyes gleamed in the light.

Indiana's eyes widened. "What is that?" He jumped back.

"He's my pet bull." She stepped forward and rubbed his nose affectionately, making sure to cover the name plate on the fence that said El Diablo.

Henry shook his head. "First a stallion named Satan, now this?"

"Yup!" She walked over to a nail on the wall, grabbing a saddle. "And you're going to ride him."

"What?! Hell no!" he exclaimed. "Are you crazy?"

"No, he's really gentle," Jessie insisted. "This is my way to make it up to you. You'll have a lot of fun!"

"But -"

"I planned this just for you." Jessie twisted the end of her braid in a dejected way. "I thought you'd like it…"

"It's not that, it's just - that thing could kill me!"

"That's not true," she protested. "You're a state - you can't die that easily. Besides, I wouldn't let you. This guy is harmless." Even as she was trying to convince him, she was settling the black bull up.

"Well…I don't know." Indiana sounded hesitant, but Jessie knew that she had him.

In a few minutes Henry was climbing up a small stepladder into the leather saddle. "Holy crap, it's really high up here!" He looked down in panic.

Texas smiled reassuringly. "Just hold on tight and squeeze with your knees - you won't fall off, I promise." Her eyes seemed to darken slightly as she said it, but Henry ignored the observation, figuring it was just a trick of the light.

"Now, got get 'em!" She handed him a cowboy hat which he strapped onto his head and lead him out into the ring with the large crowd gathered round.

"And next up - Henry Jones!" The announcers voice rang through the ring.

"Hey, there's Indiana!" Idaho pointed into the middle of the ring.

"Woah!" New York, who had managed to get a beer without Linus noticing, did a spit take.

"What is he doing?" Virginia asked Massachusetts in alarm.

"I have no idea, Avery. Not a clue."

At first Indiana wasn't half bad. The bull bucked around a little bit, but he held on pretty good. "Whooooooohooo!" He screamed, letting go with one hand and waving it above his head.

That set El Diablo off.

The bull started to jump around like crazy, and in an instant Henry's face changed from ecstasy to fear.

Seeming to realize the danger, Illinois stopped laughing and looked genuinely afraid. "Roll off it, dude!"

Indiana nodded, throwing all his weight to one side - only, he didn't fall off. "What the -?!"

Annoyed with the weight on his back, the bull started to get rather ferocious. He ran up to the edge of the pin, knocking his unfortunate rider into the side.

"Jessie, you didn't!" Tennessee shook her friend's shoulder.

Texas shrugged uncomfortably. "Maybe I didn't think this one through…"

"MOTHER - OW!" The bull had gotten enough of running into the wall, so it started to run in tight circles that made everyone dizzy just looking at it. "GET ME OFF THIS THING!" At this point Henry's eyes were watering as he screamed in hysteria.

"Roll off!" Illinois called again as the bull passed by near them. It didn't matter that the ground was a good few feet down - it had to be better than riding that thing.

"I'M STUCK!"

Seeming to realize that there wasn't any other way off, Indiana threw away whatever was left of his dignity and unbuckled his belt, sliding out of his pants.

He tumbled to the ground (in his Colts boxers) with a thud, rolling a bit before the announcer rang the buzzer. "Y'all take a five minute recess while we fix out some, um, technical difficulties," the voice over the speaker said.

"Henry!" As the crowd dispersed Illinois hopped over the side, running over to his brother. "Dude, are you okay? What the hell?!"

Idaho followed, running up and hugging him, wiping a few stray tears off of Henry's face. "Don't cry, Henry," he said, holding on to him tight. "It's over."

Normally Jessie would've found the sight insanely adorably, but she was too busy being glared at. And not just by Henry, whose eyes bored at her through the blood on his face.

"I'm - Shit, I'm really sorry, guys," she whined, her eyes pleading genuinely for the first time that day. "I didn't think it would go that far…"

"That far? You -" His eyes widened in realization "-you stuck magnets into the saddle, didn't you?!" Indiana looked at her in disbelief.

"And the back of your pants when I did the laundry," she admitted. "But I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

"What were you thinking?" Massachusetts asked as New Jersey tended to Indiana's wounds with the first-aid kit he seemed able to conjure out of thin air.

"That I wanted to get back at him." Normally she would've seemed defensive, but this time Jessie really knew she was wrong.

"And you guys think I'm messed up," New York said drunkenly.

                                                         *****

"I am so dead…" Texas groaned as she walked up to the door of their large house. A few of the states had gone with Indiana to the hospital. (Although New Jersey had seemed to patch him up pretty well, Nicolas had still insisted that he could've missed something.)

Tennessee patted her shoulder sympathetically. "Maybe it won't be too bad," she suggested half-heartedly. Even she didn't totally believe that.

"Well, it was sort of mean of you," Mississippi chirped sheepishly, walking past.

"Really, Darcy? I had no clue!" Texas snapped.

"Chill, okay? Maybe he won't be hurt too bad," Alba said.

Jessie was about to reply, but New York's voice interrupted her.

"Yo, guys!" He walked out onto the front steps, waving a piece of paper. "The cast list is here!"