A/N Here we are the epilogue! I'm sure you've all been waiting with baited breath, well ok coming back to reality all I can say is me and Alichay had a lot of fun thinking this up and I hope you enjoy it too!

Jeff put his head in his hands. The past few days had aged him, more so than any daring rescue.

He'd had to wrestle the stilettos of his dead wife off one son and take away the make-up… the strangeness of the situation overwhelmed him… he'd have to investigate the root of this; he knew the army could be…risqué but he'd thought Scott strong enough to resist the temptation!

And Alan… he shook his head sadly when he thought of what had happened to his youngest, most… innocent son… such wasted talent. He'd walked into the kitchen only to find TinTin teaching Alan to count. To five. And the real clincher was that he was actually struggling. In the end he'd had to use the Thunderbirds to do it.

When she'd seen him, TinTin had glared at him as if it were all his fault and mumbled something about being a technician and not a kindergarten teacher. But, seriously! The boy had studied astrophysics at university and came out one of the top. Everyone was claiming it was because he was blonde but Jeff had to disagree; he'd been blonde then too. And besides; what about John? They'd just mumbled something about being more white than blonde and premature ageing.

Gordon had been creeping around silent as a shadow, cringing anytime someone came near including transvestite older brothers and emotionally-scarred younger ones. Virgil had gone that one step further, he still shuddered remembering them:

Flasback

Jeff had been striding along the hall when he noticed thumping noises coming from Virgil's room. Normally, being the wonderfully trusting parent he was – trusting his sons with his life nearly every day – he would have happily ignored it, having complete faith in his sons… but now he wasn't so sure.

The first thing he'd noticed was the blood, still dripping from the carcass of the goat (where'd that come from? He'd have to research goats in the pacific) then the rather dazed-looking Gordon slumped on the floor.

"Umm Virgil, what are you doing?" Virgil looked up as innocently as if he'd been caught doing homework.

"Satan needs to be appeased, Father." He stated calmly as if it were the most common thing in the world.

"Riiiiiiiiiiiight, but with Gordon?" Virgil glanced back down at his prey, his expression turning to disgust.

"You're right Father, his darkness wouldn't want this." And with that he'd thrown him out the room, pausing only to spit at his brother.

"Ginger scum." Gordon curled up, whimpering. Jeff shook his head at such barbarity… then found that he had been ever-so-slightly backing away from his… penultimate son. He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts, but found the corridor to be empty.

It was getting increasingly difficult for Jeff to get the boys to spend time with the unfortunately ginger –

Gordon waved his hands in flustered disgust. "BRONZE!" he screamed.

- unfortunately bronzed son. He decided to rent a film; now, what was it these boys listened to nowadays? Rap? In a vain attempt to be 'cool' Jeff found himself creeping towards the 'Young Person' section of his local – and when I say local, I mean he had to take Thunderbird 1 to get there (yes, his desperation had reached that extreme) – Blockbuster. What was it Alan had on before… before… err… R! That was it! It began with R! It had 2 parts… it was a girl's name… Sandra? Jane? Kelly! That was it! R Kelly!

Jeff took the doomed DVD to the counter, ignoring the strange look the Cashier Boy gave him. He had a feeling tonight he would solve all their problems.

Jeff stared in horror as yes, another gun was extracted and waved carelessly at yes, another voluptuous woman. Shaking slightly as the profanities escalated, Jeff watched in horror as her affair was brought into light.

"The man… was a midget! Midget! Midget!"

Jeff could only gape. What had become of the youth of today? He ignored the little voice in the back of his head which reminded him just how old he was now, and looked hopefully at his sons. Maybe they were enjoying the… experience.

Alan was cowering in a corner, a good three feet away from his other siblings. Scott's puzzled eyes had not left the voluptuous woman's chest, wide with wonderment. He leaned towards Virgil. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get them that size?" Jeff desperately ignored this to see his previously-mature son's reaction.

"Not enough blood…" the pianist muttered. "Why doesn't he use the guns! Look… that wonderful white wall… a perfect canvas… and the woman's got blood to spare…"

Jeff simply stared.

He traced his second-youngest to lurking in the shadows of the large sofa, squatted on the floor away from his transvestite, satanic and terrified brothers. He was clutching a pillow to his chest, and Jeff got the distinct impression he was waiting for something.

A gleam entered the youngest's eyes as he turned to the unfortunate boy. "Ginger!" he said, carefully in time with the music. The other two snapped out of their 'reveries' and grinned sadistically with their brother. "Ginger! Ginger! Ginger!" they repeated, chanting it with the DVD.

Gordon screamed and bolted.

Jeff yet again found himself with his head in his hands.

End Flashback

Jeff shuddered at the memory, but gathered his thoughts; now he had other sons to attend to. And as if corresponding with his thoughts, there was a knock at the door.

"You wanted too see me, Father?" said Alan poking his head round the door and looking round in a paranoid rabbit fashion.

"That's right, take a seat Alan." Once he was sitting and couldn't get out easily Jeff began.

"Now, Alan, I know you and your brothers are having some…difficulties at the moment, but you have to remember that we are a team and…"

Alan began struggling against the duct tape restricting his forearms. The plastic gave an ominous squeak. "I'M NOT GOING UP THERE!" he screamed.

"But, dammit Alan, he's starving!" Surely enough, the plastic gave a final groan as the youngest Tracy broke his bonds with almost inhuman strength.

Alan jumped up and fled the room screaming "You can't make me!" as he banged the door shut. Jeff winced and turned to the vidcom.

"I-I'm sorry John, I tried, you'll have to wait until I've trained another astronaut."

"AHAHAHA!" came the hysterical laughter from the other end. John Tracy looked up with a manic gleam in his eyes;

"BOOTS AGAIN TONIGHT!"

A/N and you wonder why this series is called the Poor John series, sigh poor John, but it is fun doing this to him. In case your wondering, the song was 'trapped in a closet', lol bit like Scott, but yes it does actually exist! I've got another story planned so if you think I should write it please say, well, if you really don't want me to write it please say but Alichay thought it was funny, didn't you Alichay?

Alichay: -nods- the hilariosity did not escape me. And yes… that last line was one of mine! –happy dance- I thought of one, my Princess! –mutters quietly to self-

Review pwetty pwease!

Alichay: -nods-. They make us ever-so-happy!