Sparks of Insanity
Title: Sparks of Insanity
Fandom: Comedy. Jeff Dunham? I fail at figuring this one out.
Pairing: Jeff Dunham/Brian Haner, Sr (Guitar Guy, Papa Gates, ect)
Rating: PG-13 for language?
Summary: Syn visits his father.
Wordcount: 746
“Tell Papa I say hi, okay, babe?” Zacky demanded, resting his hands on Syn’s bike. He rose to his toes and brushed a kiss to Syn’s lips.
“Zack! Dude, come on. If you wanna ride home, move that ass.” Matt yelled, half leaning out of his Mustang to yell at his long-time best friend.
“Fuck you, Sanders! Gimme a minute.” Zacky yelled back. Syn laughed and ran a hand down the younger’s spine, pressing one last kiss to his full, pierced lips.
“Go,” he laughed, pushing him away gently, “Before Matt leaves you.”
“Love you, baby.”
“Love you, too.” Syn returned before shifting fully onto the bike. It roared to life and he smirked at Zacky, who grinned and shook his head, walking backwards towards where Matt was impatiently awaiting.
The ride to Brian Sr.’s beach house wasn’t long. He drove up into the driveway and parked his bike, eyeing the powder blue Prius with curiosity. Syn didn't bother to knock, he never did, and just walked right into his father's home. He glanced around and called out, "Dad?"
There was no answer and Syn shrugged, kicking his shoes off and moving further into the apartment, dropping a leather jacket onto the couch. He turned slowly.
And jumped, squealing just a little in a manner that would have had Zacky giggling and Jimmy most definitely calling him a girl.
There was a puppet. A really freaky one that looked like an old guy just... just STARING at him.
Syn hated puppets.
"That's Walter." A voice suddenly said and Syn jumped again but managed to catch the scream before it escaped. Spinning quickly, he found himself looking at a guy he didn't know. "You must be Brian."
"Uh... yah. Its, um. Syn. Who the fuck are you? Where's my dad?"
“Oh, ah… I’m Jeff. A… friend… of your dad’s.”
Syn’s eyebrows skyrocketed. He introduced Zacky to his mother in the same fashion.
“Friend?”
“Yah. Friend.”
There was a red flush creeping up the man’s neck. It made Syn smirk. Carefully avoiding the creepy ass puppet (seriously, it was watching him), he sunk onto the couch and tried to pull off that badass rock star look.
“How long have you and my dad been… friends?”
“A… awhile.”
“Really? Huh… He’s never mentioned you.”
Syn immediately felt bad because, really, the hurt that flashed across the man’s face was obvious.
“Shit… I’m sorry. I know you’re… I shouldn’t have said that. I’m a jackass.”
Jeff shook his head. “No. No, no, no, it’s okay.”
The door opened and Syn’s father, Brian Haner to some, Guitar Guy to many, and Papa Gates to those who knew Syn, walked in, carrying a bag of what looked like groceries. He blinked at Syn. “Son… Off tour then?”
“Yah. Told you it’d be today.”
“Must have… slipped my mind. You’ve met Jeff, then?”
“Yep.”
Brian shifted awkwardly before shrugging and crossing the room to kiss Jeff’s neck. Brian rolled his eyes.
“Dumbass.” Jeff muttered.
“Be nice, Walter.” Brian returned with a grin.
Syn decided his father might just be losing it. And that damn puppet was still staring at him.
“Can you, like, move the freaking puppet? It’s watching me.”
“Paranoid fucker.” Brian chuckled.
Jeff was already moving the puppet, handing it with unexpected care. He carried it over to a trunk, opening to reveal… a lot more puppets.
“Jesus fuck! How many are in there?”
“Seven.”
“Why?”
Brian laughed, “Jeff’s a ventriloquist.”
Syn blinked. “Oh… kay.”
“So… you’re okay with this?” Brian asked, looking uneasy.
Syn shrugged. “Yah. I mean, you were cool with Zack. And it’s better than the time I walked in on Jimmy and Johnny. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well… Brent…”
Syn rolled his eyes, “Hey, its Brent. What do you expect? He still likes to pretend Zack and I are ‘just friends’. He’ll get over it.”
“Well… Good.”
There was silence for a minute before Jeff started tapping his foot and, with a slight lisp and without moving his lips, muttered, “Awkward.” Followed immediately by Jeff kicking the trunk. A strange laugh followed suit.
Syn blinked. Maybe it wasn’t his father losing his mind… maybe Jeff was just certifiable.
Actually… that seemed pretty likely. Who else would play with puppets but a crazy person?
Fandom: Comedy. Jeff Dunham? I fail at figuring this one out.
Pairing: Jeff Dunham/Brian Haner, Sr (Guitar Guy, Papa Gates, ect)
Rating: PG-13 for language?
Summary: Syn visits his father.
Wordcount: 746
“Tell Papa I say hi, okay, babe?” Zacky demanded, resting his hands on Syn’s bike. He rose to his toes and brushed a kiss to Syn’s lips.
“Zack! Dude, come on. If you wanna ride home, move that ass.” Matt yelled, half leaning out of his Mustang to yell at his long-time best friend.
“Fuck you, Sanders! Gimme a minute.” Zacky yelled back. Syn laughed and ran a hand down the younger’s spine, pressing one last kiss to his full, pierced lips.
“Go,” he laughed, pushing him away gently, “Before Matt leaves you.”
“Love you, baby.”
“Love you, too.” Syn returned before shifting fully onto the bike. It roared to life and he smirked at Zacky, who grinned and shook his head, walking backwards towards where Matt was impatiently awaiting.
The ride to Brian Sr.’s beach house wasn’t long. He drove up into the driveway and parked his bike, eyeing the powder blue Prius with curiosity. Syn didn't bother to knock, he never did, and just walked right into his father's home. He glanced around and called out, "Dad?"
There was no answer and Syn shrugged, kicking his shoes off and moving further into the apartment, dropping a leather jacket onto the couch. He turned slowly.
And jumped, squealing just a little in a manner that would have had Zacky giggling and Jimmy most definitely calling him a girl.
There was a puppet. A really freaky one that looked like an old guy just... just STARING at him.
Syn hated puppets.
"That's Walter." A voice suddenly said and Syn jumped again but managed to catch the scream before it escaped. Spinning quickly, he found himself looking at a guy he didn't know. "You must be Brian."
"Uh... yah. Its, um. Syn. Who the fuck are you? Where's my dad?"
“Oh, ah… I’m Jeff. A… friend… of your dad’s.”
Syn’s eyebrows skyrocketed. He introduced Zacky to his mother in the same fashion.
“Friend?”
“Yah. Friend.”
There was a red flush creeping up the man’s neck. It made Syn smirk. Carefully avoiding the creepy ass puppet (seriously, it was watching him), he sunk onto the couch and tried to pull off that badass rock star look.
“How long have you and my dad been… friends?”
“A… awhile.”
“Really? Huh… He’s never mentioned you.”
Syn immediately felt bad because, really, the hurt that flashed across the man’s face was obvious.
“Shit… I’m sorry. I know you’re… I shouldn’t have said that. I’m a jackass.”
Jeff shook his head. “No. No, no, no, it’s okay.”
The door opened and Syn’s father, Brian Haner to some, Guitar Guy to many, and Papa Gates to those who knew Syn, walked in, carrying a bag of what looked like groceries. He blinked at Syn. “Son… Off tour then?”
“Yah. Told you it’d be today.”
“Must have… slipped my mind. You’ve met Jeff, then?”
“Yep.”
Brian shifted awkwardly before shrugging and crossing the room to kiss Jeff’s neck. Brian rolled his eyes.
“Dumbass.” Jeff muttered.
“Be nice, Walter.” Brian returned with a grin.
Syn decided his father might just be losing it. And that damn puppet was still staring at him.
“Can you, like, move the freaking puppet? It’s watching me.”
“Paranoid fucker.” Brian chuckled.
Jeff was already moving the puppet, handing it with unexpected care. He carried it over to a trunk, opening to reveal… a lot more puppets.
“Jesus fuck! How many are in there?”
“Seven.”
“Why?”
Brian laughed, “Jeff’s a ventriloquist.”
Syn blinked. “Oh… kay.”
“So… you’re okay with this?” Brian asked, looking uneasy.
Syn shrugged. “Yah. I mean, you were cool with Zack. And it’s better than the time I walked in on Jimmy and Johnny. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well… Brent…”
Syn rolled his eyes, “Hey, its Brent. What do you expect? He still likes to pretend Zack and I are ‘just friends’. He’ll get over it.”
“Well… Good.”
There was silence for a minute before Jeff started tapping his foot and, with a slight lisp and without moving his lips, muttered, “Awkward.” Followed immediately by Jeff kicking the trunk. A strange laugh followed suit.
Syn blinked. Maybe it wasn’t his father losing his mind… maybe Jeff was just certifiable.
Actually… that seemed pretty likely. Who else would play with puppets but a crazy person?