OMG! Perfect timing!
Hello. I apologize for my recent emo. I am feeling much better today.
It is also madsciencechick's birthday, which I had actually not realized due to having my head up my own emo, but is absolutely perfect because, in an attempt to dislodge my writer's block last night, I wrote like 850 words of Bridezilla Joe Dick and it is all MSC's fault.
So happy birthday, madsciencechick! Have a little crack! I don't know that this is really what you had in mind, but it's too late now, you've created a monster!
"Just write your name down, Joe."
"I'm not writing anything. This is bullshit, Billy."
Billy sighed and pressed his knuckle to the bridge of his nose. "Joe. It's just a fuckin' piece of paper."
"Yeah, a fuckin' piece of paper that says I'm the fucking bride!" Joe shouted. The prim woman sitting behind the registry desk blushed. Pipe snickered. Billy glared.
"Shut the fuck up, Pipe, or you're wearing green taffeta for the ceremony."
Pipe's expression went sulky. "Kook," he mumbled, and behind them, John giggled.
Billy closed his eyes and thought longingly of their old tour van, which might have reeked of spunk and cheeseburgers and John's incense but at least had meant a reasonably fast getaway when necessary.
"I'm very sorry, sir," the registry woman was saying to Joe, "it's not that we don't welcome couples of all ages and orientations, it's just that our paperwork is set up for-"
"I don’t care what your paperwork is set up for, I am not a fucking chick, you stupid cu-"
"OK," Billy cut in hastily, leaning over a little so that Joe's eyes locked on him. "Look. Joe." He plunked a finger down on top of the catalogue in front of him. "Liquor dispenser shaped like a gas pump. Cool, right?"
Joe gave him a testicle-withering glare. "You lick 'er dispenser," he sneered sullenly.
Billy threw up his hands. "OK, that's it. Fuck this."
He was halfway out of his seat when Joe caught his arm. "No, Billy, just-yes, all right? Yes, it's fucking cool. Jesus."
"OK." Billy sank back down. "And you want someone to buy it for us, right?"
"Yes," Joe mumbled.
"Then we have to fill out the paperwork. And the paperwork doesn't say groom and groom, it says groom and bride, so…"
"Why can't you be the bride?" Joe demanded.
Because I read faster than you, Billy thought, but all he said was, "I already wrote my name down under groom."
"Yeah, well, why don't you write your name down under asshole, because this whole thing is bullshit."
"Joe-"
"No! Goddammit, Bill, no." Joe shoved his chair back. "I'll marry you, OK, because I started this and because I fucking love you, but Jesus Christ, Billy! I am not! The fucking! Bride!" And he turned on his heavily-booted heel and stormed off, pausing only to snarl "What the fuck're you lookin' at?" at a pale couple browsing the thousand-dollar china in his path. They winced and shrank back, moving closer to the less expensive dishes. Joe, meanwhile, was stomping out of sight around a corner.
For a long moment after he disappeared, there was silence at the registry desk. Then, "He's the bride," Billy said, in unison with the registry woman, and John burst out laughing.
*****
"What, is everyone in the fucking world busy on June 8th?" Joe grumbled, sorting through the mail. Six more response cards, and five of them had checked Regrets. What the fuck? That wasn't buddies.
Billy was slumped in the window seat on the other side of the kitchen, guitar slung across his lap, fingers picking idly at the strings. "Maybe you shouldn't have bought that skull stamp for the invitations," he murmured.
"What?" Joe brought one of the response cards up for closer inspection; they had matching skulls, of course, black and shiny with just a hint of silver glitter. OK, so maybe he'd been high when he'd bought them-and, all right, also when he'd stamped them-but still. "The skulls are fucking fantastic," he said. "Just all your friends are cunts, is the problem here."
"Uh-huh," Billy answered, his typical deadpan bullshit, and Joe fucking hated it when he did that, but then he saw the return address on the one card marked Will attend and smiled.
"Hey!" he said. "Bucky's gonna make it."
A pause, then, "Great."
Joe glanced over. Billy was still focused on his guitar, his eyes hidden. "What?" Joe pressed. "It is great. We haven't seen that motherfucker in ages."
"Uh-huh," Billy said again.
Joe took a couple of seconds to put two and two together, and then grinned. "Are you jealous?" He shook his head, started stalking slowly across the room. "Are you fucking jealous, Billiam?"
"Shut up," Billy muttered, ducking his head further.
"You are!" Joe laughed delightedly. "You're jealous! Aww." He was close enough now to put a hand on the neck of Billy's guitar. "That's so sweet. I'm touched, really."
"Fuck off."
"Why, Mr. Tallent, that's an excellent idea," Joe answered easily, lifting the neck strap over Billy's head and setting the guitar carefully aside. He knelt between Billy's sprawled legs, his fingers automatically drifting to the button of Billy's jeans. Billy was looking at him now, blue eyes heating up, lazy smile stretching his mouth.
"Maybe we should be saving ourselves for the wedding night," he drawled.
"OK," Joe agreed, "you can just lie there while I fuck you."
"I don't think that's what 'saving yourself' means, Joe," Billy grinned, and Joe promptly licked his way into Billy's mouth to shut him up, because really, some conversations were just fucking stupid.
There… will probably be more of this. *headdesk*
It is also madsciencechick's birthday, which I had actually not realized due to having my head up my own emo, but is absolutely perfect because, in an attempt to dislodge my writer's block last night, I wrote like 850 words of Bridezilla Joe Dick and it is all MSC's fault.
So happy birthday, madsciencechick! Have a little crack! I don't know that this is really what you had in mind, but it's too late now, you've created a monster!
"Just write your name down, Joe."
"I'm not writing anything. This is bullshit, Billy."
Billy sighed and pressed his knuckle to the bridge of his nose. "Joe. It's just a fuckin' piece of paper."
"Yeah, a fuckin' piece of paper that says I'm the fucking bride!" Joe shouted. The prim woman sitting behind the registry desk blushed. Pipe snickered. Billy glared.
"Shut the fuck up, Pipe, or you're wearing green taffeta for the ceremony."
Pipe's expression went sulky. "Kook," he mumbled, and behind them, John giggled.
Billy closed his eyes and thought longingly of their old tour van, which might have reeked of spunk and cheeseburgers and John's incense but at least had meant a reasonably fast getaway when necessary.
"I'm very sorry, sir," the registry woman was saying to Joe, "it's not that we don't welcome couples of all ages and orientations, it's just that our paperwork is set up for-"
"I don’t care what your paperwork is set up for, I am not a fucking chick, you stupid cu-"
"OK," Billy cut in hastily, leaning over a little so that Joe's eyes locked on him. "Look. Joe." He plunked a finger down on top of the catalogue in front of him. "Liquor dispenser shaped like a gas pump. Cool, right?"
Joe gave him a testicle-withering glare. "You lick 'er dispenser," he sneered sullenly.
Billy threw up his hands. "OK, that's it. Fuck this."
He was halfway out of his seat when Joe caught his arm. "No, Billy, just-yes, all right? Yes, it's fucking cool. Jesus."
"OK." Billy sank back down. "And you want someone to buy it for us, right?"
"Yes," Joe mumbled.
"Then we have to fill out the paperwork. And the paperwork doesn't say groom and groom, it says groom and bride, so…"
"Why can't you be the bride?" Joe demanded.
Because I read faster than you, Billy thought, but all he said was, "I already wrote my name down under groom."
"Yeah, well, why don't you write your name down under asshole, because this whole thing is bullshit."
"Joe-"
"No! Goddammit, Bill, no." Joe shoved his chair back. "I'll marry you, OK, because I started this and because I fucking love you, but Jesus Christ, Billy! I am not! The fucking! Bride!" And he turned on his heavily-booted heel and stormed off, pausing only to snarl "What the fuck're you lookin' at?" at a pale couple browsing the thousand-dollar china in his path. They winced and shrank back, moving closer to the less expensive dishes. Joe, meanwhile, was stomping out of sight around a corner.
For a long moment after he disappeared, there was silence at the registry desk. Then, "He's the bride," Billy said, in unison with the registry woman, and John burst out laughing.
*****
"What, is everyone in the fucking world busy on June 8th?" Joe grumbled, sorting through the mail. Six more response cards, and five of them had checked Regrets. What the fuck? That wasn't buddies.
Billy was slumped in the window seat on the other side of the kitchen, guitar slung across his lap, fingers picking idly at the strings. "Maybe you shouldn't have bought that skull stamp for the invitations," he murmured.
"What?" Joe brought one of the response cards up for closer inspection; they had matching skulls, of course, black and shiny with just a hint of silver glitter. OK, so maybe he'd been high when he'd bought them-and, all right, also when he'd stamped them-but still. "The skulls are fucking fantastic," he said. "Just all your friends are cunts, is the problem here."
"Uh-huh," Billy answered, his typical deadpan bullshit, and Joe fucking hated it when he did that, but then he saw the return address on the one card marked Will attend and smiled.
"Hey!" he said. "Bucky's gonna make it."
A pause, then, "Great."
Joe glanced over. Billy was still focused on his guitar, his eyes hidden. "What?" Joe pressed. "It is great. We haven't seen that motherfucker in ages."
"Uh-huh," Billy said again.
Joe took a couple of seconds to put two and two together, and then grinned. "Are you jealous?" He shook his head, started stalking slowly across the room. "Are you fucking jealous, Billiam?"
"Shut up," Billy muttered, ducking his head further.
"You are!" Joe laughed delightedly. "You're jealous! Aww." He was close enough now to put a hand on the neck of Billy's guitar. "That's so sweet. I'm touched, really."
"Fuck off."
"Why, Mr. Tallent, that's an excellent idea," Joe answered easily, lifting the neck strap over Billy's head and setting the guitar carefully aside. He knelt between Billy's sprawled legs, his fingers automatically drifting to the button of Billy's jeans. Billy was looking at him now, blue eyes heating up, lazy smile stretching his mouth.
"Maybe we should be saving ourselves for the wedding night," he drawled.
"OK," Joe agreed, "you can just lie there while I fuck you."
"I don't think that's what 'saving yourself' means, Joe," Billy grinned, and Joe promptly licked his way into Billy's mouth to shut him up, because really, some conversations were just fucking stupid.
There… will probably be more of this. *headdesk*