The Gang watches How It’s Made
Ensamble, gee.
A/N: Nonsense. It's 4 am so. Yeah, nonsense.
-
“C.J., what are you doing?” Toby’s voice is fast, impatient but she can’t recall ever running late. Reluctantly she turns her gaze to the door and his raised expression.
“Watching television,” she answers, frankly, before turning back.
Donna lies on C.J.'s couch with her ankles crossed over one end, head at the other, reaching lazily for the popcorn beside her while Josh slouches in a chair.
“Oh c’mon! Why are we wasting money buying hard candy if it’s so easy to make?” Josh blurts out and, almost without thinking, Donna cuts her eyes at him.
“You have no idea how lazy you are,” she snorts as if the comment would make him think twice about his abilities and that really, she would be the one slaving away trying to make hard, little yellow and red candies with ‘I love you’ inscribed inside. (Or in actuality, red, white and blue ones that read ‘Josh Lyman’ and would sit on one too many desks.)
Toby still waits, always irritated for C.J. to give him the attention he craves. It’s mostly because he’s bored but television won’t cure it, not even with this group, so he opts for the cranky façade. When she does look back at him she is anything but kind.
“Toby, what do you want?”
“Shouldn’t you all be working,” he questions. What a scrooge, a complete grouch.
“Working on what exactly? There isn’t anyone here. They’re all out of the country and if they are here, well they just aren’t important enough for our time.”
Toby scratches his beard, “Interesting coming from someone who is considered a workaholic.”
“You aren’t even remotely curious as to what we are watching?”
“I’m not.”
“Will all of you stop talking,” Donna exasperation cuts them short. “I’m actually interested in this one.”
Then, as if by some miracle, or curse depending on how well you knew him, Sam (who looks like a child whose insatiable appetite for delight grew with him rather than withered away at the harsh realities of age) enters, squeezing past Toby who stubbornly waits with his right side pressed up against the door frame.
“You guys are watching How It’s Made,” he exclaims and takes a seat on the floor next to Donna.
“Toby, why aren’t you sitting down?”
Toby opens his mouth to speak but instead C.J.’s voice follows.
“He says we should be working,” she mocks his voice and ‘working’ comes out deep and slow and almost Toby.
“Well that’s no fun. You should sit down,” Sam says to Toby.
“Really, you should, I don’t get what you’re waiting for,” Josh jumps in.
Donna sighs, heavy and dramatically clasping her hands over her eyes. “He’ll sit down when he sits down in the mean time be quiet.”
Toby does sit down eventually. It’s next to Josh with a cold beer and a confused expression as they watch the television put on a show about the ways in which hot dogs are made.
Toby shakes his head, “Andy was right for once. Those are terrible.”
C.J. and Donna say, “I’m never going to eat those again.”
Sam just frowns.
Josh is smug. “You say that now but wait until you forget.”
“We won’t,” the girls say together and Donna throws a kernel his way.
“It’s a marathon you guys,” Sam says, “Did you close the lid C.J.?”
“Yeah,” she bobs her head.
“Let’s watch them all,” Donna chirps, “It will be fun and for every object Josh says he can make we’ll make him try it.”
“I’m in favor of viewing but Donna’s idea is stupid and should be ignored.”
“It’s settled then,” C.J. says reclining in her chair, “we are watching the marathon and Josh you better not say anything because you’ll be making it.”
“No, no that’s not what is going to happen,” he protests and it soon dissolves into collective chatter, a frenzy to decide what has already been agreed on.
Toby sits in the thick of it, sipping whatever is left in his bottle and mumbling, “I need more alcohol.”
A/N: Nonsense. It's 4 am so. Yeah, nonsense.
-
“C.J., what are you doing?” Toby’s voice is fast, impatient but she can’t recall ever running late. Reluctantly she turns her gaze to the door and his raised expression.
“Watching television,” she answers, frankly, before turning back.
Donna lies on C.J.'s couch with her ankles crossed over one end, head at the other, reaching lazily for the popcorn beside her while Josh slouches in a chair.
“Oh c’mon! Why are we wasting money buying hard candy if it’s so easy to make?” Josh blurts out and, almost without thinking, Donna cuts her eyes at him.
“You have no idea how lazy you are,” she snorts as if the comment would make him think twice about his abilities and that really, she would be the one slaving away trying to make hard, little yellow and red candies with ‘I love you’ inscribed inside. (Or in actuality, red, white and blue ones that read ‘Josh Lyman’ and would sit on one too many desks.)
Toby still waits, always irritated for C.J. to give him the attention he craves. It’s mostly because he’s bored but television won’t cure it, not even with this group, so he opts for the cranky façade. When she does look back at him she is anything but kind.
“Toby, what do you want?”
“Shouldn’t you all be working,” he questions. What a scrooge, a complete grouch.
“Working on what exactly? There isn’t anyone here. They’re all out of the country and if they are here, well they just aren’t important enough for our time.”
Toby scratches his beard, “Interesting coming from someone who is considered a workaholic.”
“You aren’t even remotely curious as to what we are watching?”
“I’m not.”
“Will all of you stop talking,” Donna exasperation cuts them short. “I’m actually interested in this one.”
Then, as if by some miracle, or curse depending on how well you knew him, Sam (who looks like a child whose insatiable appetite for delight grew with him rather than withered away at the harsh realities of age) enters, squeezing past Toby who stubbornly waits with his right side pressed up against the door frame.
“You guys are watching How It’s Made,” he exclaims and takes a seat on the floor next to Donna.
“Toby, why aren’t you sitting down?”
Toby opens his mouth to speak but instead C.J.’s voice follows.
“He says we should be working,” she mocks his voice and ‘working’ comes out deep and slow and almost Toby.
“Well that’s no fun. You should sit down,” Sam says to Toby.
“Really, you should, I don’t get what you’re waiting for,” Josh jumps in.
Donna sighs, heavy and dramatically clasping her hands over her eyes. “He’ll sit down when he sits down in the mean time be quiet.”
Toby does sit down eventually. It’s next to Josh with a cold beer and a confused expression as they watch the television put on a show about the ways in which hot dogs are made.
Toby shakes his head, “Andy was right for once. Those are terrible.”
C.J. and Donna say, “I’m never going to eat those again.”
Sam just frowns.
Josh is smug. “You say that now but wait until you forget.”
“We won’t,” the girls say together and Donna throws a kernel his way.
“It’s a marathon you guys,” Sam says, “Did you close the lid C.J.?”
“Yeah,” she bobs her head.
“Let’s watch them all,” Donna chirps, “It will be fun and for every object Josh says he can make we’ll make him try it.”
“I’m in favor of viewing but Donna’s idea is stupid and should be ignored.”
“It’s settled then,” C.J. says reclining in her chair, “we are watching the marathon and Josh you better not say anything because you’ll be making it.”
“No, no that’s not what is going to happen,” he protests and it soon dissolves into collective chatter, a frenzy to decide what has already been agreed on.
Toby sits in the thick of it, sipping whatever is left in his bottle and mumbling, “I need more alcohol.”