The crack of dawn, and the crack of noon came and went without so much as a twitch from Pickles. He was past the twitching, and headlong into the sniffles and sweats
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"Store. Heh." He chuckled and shook his head, "Welcome to LA, where you got people fer everything." He reached over for the phone and dialed up a number he'd memorized.
"Hey. Pickles." He informed, then giving his address. He looked over at Miniver, entirely too full of smug for as sick as he looked.
"I'll need the number four and a half gallon of orange juice." He nodded, "Yep. Hour. Got it." He grinned and tossed the phone away after hanging it up.
"Lifestyles of the rich and sickly." He muttered, going back to eating his cereal.
"Yeah, they're honey nut." He pointed to the part of the box that stated it.
"I don't like the plain ones, too... Plain." He shrugged, turning on the TV. "Y'know, if I didn't know any better, Cheevy, I'd swear you were from the past or somethin'." He joked, leaning on the armrest as he flipped through the channels, pausing when he saw a news story about his interview.
"Ugh, I look horrible in that lighting." Nevermind the headline of 'Secretive Rock star TALKS!' and the subtitle of 'Host fired after questions not brutal enough for withdrawing frontman'.
Oooh, interview. "What the hell, are they making a big deal about that? You only told 'em like four things they coulda found out just by taking a walk by here."
"Yeah. Apparently I'm reclusive or some shit." He smirked, shaking his head. "I guess spendin' more time bein' a normal person, or goin' to a place normal people can't BE makes you reclusive for some damn reason."
He paused in his thought, then smiled, "Hey, speakin' of normal person shit, wanna go on a hike one day? Show you around parts of California that aren't encrusted with shit."
Comments 144
He reached over for the phone and dialed up a number he'd memorized.
"Hey. Pickles." He informed, then giving his address. He looked over at Miniver, entirely too full of smug for as sick as he looked.
"I'll need the number four and a half gallon of orange juice." He nodded, "Yep. Hour. Got it." He grinned and tossed the phone away after hanging it up.
"Lifestyles of the rich and sickly." He muttered, going back to eating his cereal.
Reply
"Well, shit."
...and grabs a handful of cheerios. And a moment later, grabs the box.
"The hell? THese are sweet!"
Reply
"I don't like the plain ones, too... Plain." He shrugged, turning on the TV. "Y'know, if I didn't know any better, Cheevy, I'd swear you were from the past or somethin'." He joked, leaning on the armrest as he flipped through the channels, pausing when he saw a news story about his interview.
"Ugh, I look horrible in that lighting." Nevermind the headline of 'Secretive Rock star TALKS!' and the subtitle of 'Host fired after questions not brutal enough for withdrawing frontman'.
Reply
Nom nom nom...
Oooh, interview. "What the hell, are they making a big deal about that? You only told 'em like four things they coulda found out just by taking a walk by here."
Reply
He paused in his thought, then smiled, "Hey, speakin' of normal person shit, wanna go on a hike one day? Show you around parts of California that aren't encrusted with shit."
Reply
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