Incident 1
"Rooooger! David's being mean again!"

"I literally just poked you on the shoulder, how is that being mean?"

"David, stop being mean."

"WhAt?!"

"Ha ha."

"Good Nick, laugh at his pain. Just like I taught you."

The Pink Floyd just happened to be at the park this particular morning. Syd as usual blamed David for everything and Roger continued being bad at parenting because he didn't care. Rick was chasing a butterfly.

"Rick, stop chasing that butterfly. There's no point when its's going to die anyways." Roger took a drag from his fourteenth cigarette that day.

"Who put you in charge?"

"Myself because my opinion is the only one that matters, my dear David."

"I think my opinion matters too." Nick pointed out.

"No it doesn't."

"Roger, can I get a bike for Christmas? You can ride it if you'd like." Syd butted in.

"Of course Syd, you can have anything you want." Roger patted his head.

"That's a perfect example of how you baby Syd constantly! Maybe he'd actually know common sense if you weren't protecting him all the time." David threw an orange at Rick who caught it and thanked God for his first meal in weeks.

"Do not!"

"Do to!"

"Do not!"

"Do to!"

"Who's the leader of the band? Huh? Me! I make the decisions, I parent you all."

"Roger, you are not the leader and you certainly don't parent everyone. All you do is shout out orders and force everyone to follow them. For example, you banned Transatlantic music from the house because you didn't like the bass. We all knew you were jealous of them."

"Was not!"

"Yeah you were. And just last week you said Rick wasn't allowed to go outside anymore because birds might come and take him away."

"Pffft you have to admit that was a good one."

"My point is you're not the boss of anyone and no one has to listen to you. Isn't that right Rick?"

Rick slowly nodded his head and averted his eyes to Syd who was wandering off.

"What David's really trying to say is shut the hell up and let us be independent men." Nick explained.

"Fine...If you don't appreciate me then I guess I'll leave!" Roger started getting up, mumbling about ungratefulness. The other three watched as he sulked off until he stopped after he was 5 feet away from them, "you're not going to beg me to stay?"

Gilmour looked offended, "by all means leave, we already know you'll come back anyways."

Roger huffed and sat back down, mumbling something about this not being the way to respect your elders.

"Wait, where's Syd?" Nick's brow furrowed, he looked around trying to find their fuzzy headed band mate but no trace of him.

"Five seconds of me not being in charge and we've already lost Sydney." Roger sneered in triumph.

"We all bloody know you weren't looking after him!" Nick shot back.

"Was too before you distracted me!"

"Well that's too bad then isn't it?"

"EVERYBODY SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!" David roared.

Rick curled into a ball and sat quietly while the rest of the band argued, "maybe I can teach them all how to crochet someday..." he thought.

"This will not help us find Syd," David scolded, "now if you two are done, I would like to find our lead singer before he finds himself in a strip club."

"Ugh, don't remind me." Roger rolled his eyes.

"It was an.....accident..." The words fell from Gilmour's mouth when he saw what was before him. Hundreds of butterflies carrying what seemed to be a man through the sky.

"Is that...?"

"He's one with the butterflies now." Nick sobbed.

"Oh shut it! He's being kidnapped you sod!" Waters growled.

"He seems to be enjoying it." The keyboardist commented.

"CAN'T YOU SEE HE'S FRIGHTENED FOR HIS LIFE? OH MY POOR SYDNEY."

David scoffed, "would you shut up? We all know the only reason you're concerned is because he writes everything for the band."

"Damn, you right."

"Are we just going to watch Syd get taken away?" Rick asked.

"Oh yeah, cue the chase music or one of those silly film sequences that go to music like in those Monkees episodes." Nick demanded.

*starts playing Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with a Pict*

"Seriously? This is the worst Pink Floyd song! Pick another!"

Beggars can't be choosers, Roger.

The Pink Floyd chase a floating Syd Barrett across the field occasionally trampling a picnic or running into a tree. Syd didn't seem to struggle in any way or be panicked. To be completely honest, he was probably high as a kite anyways.

"Are those pieridae?" David shouted as he jumped over a trashcan.

"Pieri what?!"

"Pieridae! A type of butterfly!"

"Who cares?!" Roger growled as he tripped over the seventh orange peel since they started the chase.

"Well I'm sorry Mr. Who Cares, I can't help that I'm curious to know what type of butterfly is STRONG ENOUGH TO CARRY AWAY OUR BLOODY BANDMATE!"

The butterflies seemed to be startled at David's sudden outburst and dropped the guitarist as he went plummeting down to this godforsaken earth...and landed right into a swimming pool.

"Is it just me or is Syd just an interdimentional being that was sent here to study human behavior and talent?" Nick wheezed as he struggled to catch his breath.

"That's oddly specific." Rick cocked his head.

The drummer chuckled and smiled.

"David!" Syd called out, "could you recognize those butterflies?!"

"Why are you asking me this now?!"

"Because I want to know if what I taught you actually stayed in that tiny skull of yours." Syd chuckled and hopped out of the pool that was conveniently place in the middle of the park.

"It was a pieridae, native to tropical Asia and tropical Africa, they mostly appear to be orange, white, or yellow with black spots." David stated.

"Wonderful darling." Barrett smiled proudly.

Roger sighed, "first of all, does David take butterfly lessons from you or something, and second WHY WERE YOU JUST CARRIED OFF BY BUTTERFLIES?"

"Let me answer that question with a question. Do you like butterflies?"

"Not really, they're too gentle. It's disgusting."

"How unfortunate but you did answer your own questions. They're gentle."

"But that doesn't make an-"

"Shhhhhh hush darling. All will be revealed in time."

——————————
Incident 2

"And that's why Hitler was secretly a unicorn."

The Floyd was sitting around a projector, Nick looked bored, Rick was playing with Syd's cat Pink, David was asleep, and Roger was moderately paying attention to whatever Barrett was saying.

"Are you lads ready for a quiz?"

A mixture of groans, grumbles, and screams of pure agony emitted from the rest of the band.

"GREAT. LET'S GET THIS OUT ONTO A TRAY," Syd passed out the quiz with flourish, when finished he let out an enthusiastic "nice!".

Roger examined his quiz and scoffed.

Question 1: What is your favorite color?

A.) Blue
B.) Shrek
C.) Glitter
D.) David's left buttcheek

Question 2: Why are you here right now?

A.) I'm being held against my will
B.) Paradise Theatre
C.) Dreiundzwanzig!
D.) I don't know, why are YOU here?

Question 3: What are records made out of?

A.) Hair
B.) Rick's teeth
C.) Metal *scratchy scratchy*
D.) Trick question, music is just a figment of our imaginations

Question 4: Who is my favorite in this class?

A.) Pink
B.) George Harrison
C.) That one hairball in the corner of the room between the cabinet and the chair
D.) George Harrison vol. 2

Question 5: How do you properly dispose of an overrated band?

A.) Wait until they say they're bigger than Jesus
B.) Wait until their drummer O.D.'s
C.) Wait until their T.V. show ratings drop dramatically and destroy themselves by creating a LSD trip of a movie
D.) Wait until their lead singer/frontman dies of unknown causes in a bathtub in Paris

Rick was the first one to turn in his quiz and leave the room. The other three stared at their quizzes for a long time and decided it was best to answer randomly. Syd beamed as the last paper was turned in, he knew he wrote bullshit, that was his profession. And he was proud of it.
Later that night, Wright had heard a large rumble from downstairs. Him, being the only light sleeper besides Syd knew this was still not enough to wake the others so he proceeded to investigate himself. He moved methodically from side to side on each step of the attic stairs as to prevent creaking, Rick sighed at himself for knowing all the pressure points from years of living in the two story flat. Another rumble, and this time humming could be heard from downstairs. The keyboardist knew it was Syd, only because he usually only hummed the tune London Bridge is Falling Down and nothing else.
Then a dozen clocks chimed, all coming from downstairs. Rick raced down the stairs, when had they gotten so many clocks?!

"Ricky! Do you like the clocks I got?"

"Wha-...what?"

"Don't tell anybody but a man in a white coat sold them to me," Syd giggled, "now we can tell the time from anywhere in our house!"

"We already could do that, we have watches Syd." Rick winced as Barrett held a tiny clock as small as his palm and put it on the mantelpiece which was already covered in useless things such as pictures of dogs and clay art.

"But how can we know for sure? How can we know that today is not yesterday and last Wednesday is tomorrow? Hmmmm?"

"Syd, you're tired. Go to bed." Rick whispered.

"But I'm not tired."

"But you still need to sleep."

"But who will take care of the clocks?" Syd rubbed his eyes, clearly tired despite claiming otherwise.

"I will tomorrow. Come on, let's go to bed." Rick took the other's hand and led him upstairs.

"Oh, I graded those quizzes and I must say you lads are smarter than I had first thought."

Rick narrowed his eyes at this statement but said nothing.

"You all passed...except for David, he didn't answer any of the questions...tragic. But informative!"

Rick wondered what could possibly be so informative from a quiz that was not answered but with Syd you learned to roll with the punches.

"He truly was a nice man. I was walking from store looking for some used jewelry boxes when the man in the white coat asked if I would like some clocks. Of course I said yes because what else could you not have enough of especially in our flat? He did say something funny though, something along the lines of 'I know who you really are Syd Barrett.' Isn't that strange?" He gave a lopsided smile.

"Yes, I suppose it is..." Rick put the covers over Syd. They were pink of course, Syd claimed all other colors were far too dull.

"Anyways I responded that I didn't quite knew what he meant, he paused for a moment and then went back to showing me the clocks he had. They all did come in a very large cart by the way, half of them looked like they had seen better days. I decided to buy all of them, and I got the best deal of my life starting at 0% off! Isn't that something, Rick? Anyways, that's how I came to have so many time keepers in my possession. I surely hope Rog doesn't mind, he tends not like my ideas."

"I'm sure Roger will be alright. Good night Syd."

"Good night Ricky."

With that Wright closed the door and sighed. Barrett was nothing less of curious which was quite an understatement. He did smile at the thought of Roger's pissed off look when he comes downstairs in the morning to find every room having at least three clocks in it. Roger was always pissed off at everything regardless. With that thought Rick crawled into his bed and fell asleep to the thought of clocks and Minimoogs.

The End