Should I be leaving the country now?
Title: Entertainment
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 882
Pairing: The Nostalgia Critic/Ask That Guy With The Glasses (I know, I know… I’ll change my name soon.)
Warnings: Crack pairing. Has the strong potential to make me go to hell for all eternity.
Disclaimer: The Nostalgia Critic belongs to Ask That Guy. No, no, I’m just kidding. I don’t own either of these two, as they belong to Doug Walker. I mean him no disrespect at all and I pray that he never ever finds this. Also, and this can’t be stressed enough, this is CRACK, as in NOT SERIOUS. The pairing alone should be clue enough. I really don’t want my death to be at the hands of raging fanboys.
The Nostalgia Critic was bored out of his mind. He couldn't muster up the energy to snark heavily so a review was out, Chester was nowhere to be found so drug-induced entertainment was unfortunately not going to happen anytime soon and all he could find on TV were re-runs of Family Matters and Happy Days. He wasn't in the mood for either the Fonz or Urkel so that left only one solution. Go talk to Ask That Guy. What fun.
Ask That Guy was in his usual place, surrounded by porno and engrossed in a book of what looked like Greek Gods smut.
"I'm bored."
"Don't care."
The Critic ignored him and went to sit down on the chair arm, trying to invade his personal space as much as possible.
"Entertain me."
"Really, really don't want to."
This was going nowhere fast so the Critic plucked the book from Ask That Guy's hands and flung it across the room. He was sorry to maybe damage some good porn but he needed attention. Even bad attention was better than none at all.
“Would you like me to strangle you with your tie?”
“Wouldn’t you miss me eventually?”
“Believe me, when you finally die, I’m going to throw a party.”
“Funny. And are they looking forward to seeing you in hell?”
“Does somebody need a time-out again?”
“But Daddy, the attic is too dark and scary,” he whispered in Ask That Guy’s ear. He wasn’t really sure why he made that sound like an invite for sex because the attic was pretty terrifying. Spiders, broken toys, cobwebs… he was a pussy when it came to that kind of stuff.
“Why don’t you go watch some cartoons?”
“There’s nothing on but crap.”
“Play with some toys? And I don't mean my adult ones?”
He scoffed. “Okay, two things. One, you broke all my nice toys when we were kids…
“I brought you Grubbo and Teddy Ruxpin to make up for it! They were great toys.”
“Right, because those two gave me such a nice Halloween night and two, I’m not five anymore.”
Ask That Guy giggled. It was most unnerving. "Because you really act your age, right? Oh, I'm the Nostalgia Critic. I'm a guy in my twenties obsessing over my childhood and I show no signs of stopping. I don't have a job, I don't have a girlfriend and I'll be more than likely still be in the exact same position when I'm all gross and wrinkly."
That struck a nerve. And Ask That Guy's triumphant smile wasn't helping. "Don't do that."
"You are such a pussy. A pussy who looks pretty in eyeliner but still..."
He really should have left by now. But he was obviously a glutton for punishment so he just cuddled in closer, probably proving Ask That Guy's point but it was better than being alone and with nothing to do.
"Can I ask a question?"
"Can't you just go try and kill yourself again?"
He ignored Ask That Guy's annoyed response. "Why were you nice at the end of the brawl?"
"That's a stupid question."
"How is it worse than... well, every question you've ever been asked in your life?" he asked, with a smirk.
“I still don’t want to answer it.”
“Aww, was the big, bad Ask That Guy actually being nice?”
The other man’s face was as red as his ascot. It was possibly the most hilarious thing ever.
“Don’t be such a fucking idiot.”
“Yes, you were. I knew you were an absolute sweetie underneath.” Forget making himself sit through Garbage Pail Kids or Batman and Robin, teasing Ask That Guy probably proved his masochism once and for all.
As he was about to find out because just then, Ask That Guy pulled him down to his lap and held him there by wrapping a tight arm around his waist and the other hand keeping a tight grip on his tie. Faced with this sudden information and the particularly evil, leering smile on Ask That Guy’s face, he should have shouted or at least squirmed a little. But all he could do was stay still and let out a small “Uhhh”.
"And are you happy with that knowledge?"
How exactly was he supposed to answer questions when he was on another man's lap? "I- I guess. I- it's just a bit weird."
Ask That Guy was leaning back in the chair, still smirking. It was all very Hugh Hefner-esque.
"And what would you have preferred?"
If it had been anyone else, he would have answered with his snark levels set on 100. But as disturbingly exciting the prospect of getting Ask That Guy horribly angry was, he thought he'd better save that challenge for later and play it safe for now. "I don't know. I thought you would have watched from the sidelines or encouraged us to kill each other or at least tried to get sexual favors from everyone afterwards."
As soon as he saw the eyebrow-raise, he knew that was a dumbass thing to say. "Can I get sexual favors from you?"
Oh fuck it, he couldn't be assed to lie. He just wanted sex. "Anytime you want."
"If we go upstairs, can I have them now?"
"Hey, I've got nothing better to do."
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 882
Pairing: The Nostalgia Critic/Ask That Guy With The Glasses (I know, I know… I’ll change my name soon.)
Warnings: Crack pairing. Has the strong potential to make me go to hell for all eternity.
Disclaimer: The Nostalgia Critic belongs to Ask That Guy. No, no, I’m just kidding. I don’t own either of these two, as they belong to Doug Walker. I mean him no disrespect at all and I pray that he never ever finds this. Also, and this can’t be stressed enough, this is CRACK, as in NOT SERIOUS. The pairing alone should be clue enough. I really don’t want my death to be at the hands of raging fanboys.
The Nostalgia Critic was bored out of his mind. He couldn't muster up the energy to snark heavily so a review was out, Chester was nowhere to be found so drug-induced entertainment was unfortunately not going to happen anytime soon and all he could find on TV were re-runs of Family Matters and Happy Days. He wasn't in the mood for either the Fonz or Urkel so that left only one solution. Go talk to Ask That Guy. What fun.
Ask That Guy was in his usual place, surrounded by porno and engrossed in a book of what looked like Greek Gods smut.
"I'm bored."
"Don't care."
The Critic ignored him and went to sit down on the chair arm, trying to invade his personal space as much as possible.
"Entertain me."
"Really, really don't want to."
This was going nowhere fast so the Critic plucked the book from Ask That Guy's hands and flung it across the room. He was sorry to maybe damage some good porn but he needed attention. Even bad attention was better than none at all.
“Would you like me to strangle you with your tie?”
“Wouldn’t you miss me eventually?”
“Believe me, when you finally die, I’m going to throw a party.”
“Funny. And are they looking forward to seeing you in hell?”
“Does somebody need a time-out again?”
“But Daddy, the attic is too dark and scary,” he whispered in Ask That Guy’s ear. He wasn’t really sure why he made that sound like an invite for sex because the attic was pretty terrifying. Spiders, broken toys, cobwebs… he was a pussy when it came to that kind of stuff.
“Why don’t you go watch some cartoons?”
“There’s nothing on but crap.”
“Play with some toys? And I don't mean my adult ones?”
He scoffed. “Okay, two things. One, you broke all my nice toys when we were kids…
“I brought you Grubbo and Teddy Ruxpin to make up for it! They were great toys.”
“Right, because those two gave me such a nice Halloween night and two, I’m not five anymore.”
Ask That Guy giggled. It was most unnerving. "Because you really act your age, right? Oh, I'm the Nostalgia Critic. I'm a guy in my twenties obsessing over my childhood and I show no signs of stopping. I don't have a job, I don't have a girlfriend and I'll be more than likely still be in the exact same position when I'm all gross and wrinkly."
That struck a nerve. And Ask That Guy's triumphant smile wasn't helping. "Don't do that."
"You are such a pussy. A pussy who looks pretty in eyeliner but still..."
He really should have left by now. But he was obviously a glutton for punishment so he just cuddled in closer, probably proving Ask That Guy's point but it was better than being alone and with nothing to do.
"Can I ask a question?"
"Can't you just go try and kill yourself again?"
He ignored Ask That Guy's annoyed response. "Why were you nice at the end of the brawl?"
"That's a stupid question."
"How is it worse than... well, every question you've ever been asked in your life?" he asked, with a smirk.
“I still don’t want to answer it.”
“Aww, was the big, bad Ask That Guy actually being nice?”
The other man’s face was as red as his ascot. It was possibly the most hilarious thing ever.
“Don’t be such a fucking idiot.”
“Yes, you were. I knew you were an absolute sweetie underneath.” Forget making himself sit through Garbage Pail Kids or Batman and Robin, teasing Ask That Guy probably proved his masochism once and for all.
As he was about to find out because just then, Ask That Guy pulled him down to his lap and held him there by wrapping a tight arm around his waist and the other hand keeping a tight grip on his tie. Faced with this sudden information and the particularly evil, leering smile on Ask That Guy’s face, he should have shouted or at least squirmed a little. But all he could do was stay still and let out a small “Uhhh”.
"And are you happy with that knowledge?"
How exactly was he supposed to answer questions when he was on another man's lap? "I- I guess. I- it's just a bit weird."
Ask That Guy was leaning back in the chair, still smirking. It was all very Hugh Hefner-esque.
"And what would you have preferred?"
If it had been anyone else, he would have answered with his snark levels set on 100. But as disturbingly exciting the prospect of getting Ask That Guy horribly angry was, he thought he'd better save that challenge for later and play it safe for now. "I don't know. I thought you would have watched from the sidelines or encouraged us to kill each other or at least tried to get sexual favors from everyone afterwards."
As soon as he saw the eyebrow-raise, he knew that was a dumbass thing to say. "Can I get sexual favors from you?"
Oh fuck it, he couldn't be assed to lie. He just wanted sex. "Anytime you want."
"If we go upstairs, can I have them now?"
"Hey, I've got nothing better to do."