oh, li'l cyssy had a farm, E-I-E-I-O!
This is just a suppository for a lot of the rabid fic-bunnies that like to jump up and bite my ass. I can't write each and every one that attacks me, but, I figured mebbe people would enjoy just reading some of the random ideas I have. ^^;;
What you'll find here won't be fics, really. What you'll find are snippets, ideas, and conversations. That's not to say that they won't ever evolve into full-blown fics. It's more like an online notebook where I jot things down that catch my fancy. ^_~
and on this farm, she had some...bunnies! E-I-E-I-O!
XD
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Bunnies put to pasture
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you're just jealous 'cause the voices talk to me.... ^_~
kicking the habit
"This isn't what I ordered," Shingo said and poked the brown mound on his plate.
Takeshi looked up. "You ordered a steak. That looks like a steak to me."
Shingo stabbed the indescribable meat several times and snorted. "Steak is a huge, juicy slab of beef with just the tiniest sliver of red still in it. This," he tried sawing into the hunk of what looked like burnt charcoal to him, "is not a steak."
"It's blackened steak. It's supposed to look like that."
"How was I supposed to know?"
"It said so on the menu, Shingo. I asked you if you were sure you wanted that." Takeshi's voice was clam even as his left eyebrow started to twitch.
Shingo slumped in his chair and scowled, tapping his fork on the table.
Takeshi sighed and put down his fork and knife. "Do you want to send it back?"
"And risk having the cook spit in it or worse? No fucking way." Shingo fidgeted.
"Then stop complaing and eat your food, Shingo."
Shingo's expression turned mulish. "No."
"No?"
"No." Shingo started tearing up his napkin into small, itty-bitty pieces.
Takeshi leaned back and crossed his arms. "Then what?"
"Fix it."
"What do you propose that I do?"
"I don't know. Just fix it. Be your 'I'm-the-team-leader-bad-ass' self and glare at someone and fix it so I can have me a fucking decent steak!"
Takeshi's eyebrows had risen with each word of Shingo's outburst. "What the hell is wrong with you, Shingo?"
Shingo looked away. Takeshi kicked him under the table.
"Hey!" Shingo glared at the Nissan driver. "The hell was that for?"
Takeshi glared at him. "Why the fuck are you acting like you've got a bee stuck up your ass?"
"Nothing to concern yourself about."
"'Nothing to concern myself about.'" Takeshi's eyes narrowed and he leaned back forward. "We're having dinner on the first night we've both had free in over a week. You," Takeshi pointed, "are pissing everyone off in this restaurant."
Shingo slumped lower in his chair, fingers still busy tearing at his paper napkin.
Takeshi pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, you wanna get laid tonight?"
Shingo snorted. "You need to ask?"
"Well, your chances are getting lower and lower with every passing second."
"I quit smoking."
"What?" Takeshi blinked.
"I quit smoking. My mom was getting on my case about it, so I decided to try it."
Takeshi raised an eyebrow. "How long has it been?"
Shingo's face scrunched up. "Four days of pure fucking hell."
Takeshi burst out laughing.
~*~*~*~
[<.<;; This came after watching my brother try to quit smoking for about a week. It wasn't pretty. Not as surly as Shinpon, but close. ^^;]