Syrup Shortage (1/1)
Title: Syrup Shortage (1/1)
Author: Nytel
Rating: PG
Characters: George, Mason, Daisy, Roxy, Kiffany
Genre: Gen fic
Summary: She figured that the more bad souls she took out of the world, the better she was for it. Well, that and continually beating Mason was fun.
Word Count: 915
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. I am merely borrowing them.
A/N: My first Dead Like Me fic. To be honest I'm feeling a bit nervous, but I thought I should still go ahead and post it anyway. :) Written for i_am_girlfriday and her prompt 'syrup'.
Syrup Shortage
“No, Mason,” George said excitedly, feeling so good that she was practically bouncing in her seat of the booth at Der Waffle Haus. “I win this week.”
“What?” He exclaimed. “No way. One of my reaps was a heroine addict who lived on the street. Please explain to me, how you can beat that.”
“Yes, please Georgia,” Daisy piped in from across the booth, though she didn’t look up from the paper she was reading.
It was Sunday morning and they were waiting for Rube and Roxy, neither of whom had shown up yet. George and Mason were comparing their reaps from the previous week, determining who ‘won’. Of course, there wasn’t actually a prize at the end of each week, just the satisfaction of knowing that the souls the winner had taken were more rotten than the ones taken by the other person. It was one small comfort of reaper life that George had discovered. She figured that the more bad souls she took out of the world, the better she was for it. Well, that and continually beating Mason was fun.
“Wait,” Daisy continued, finally looking up from whatever entertainment news she was reading. “Didn’t you reap a doctor this week?”
“A doctor?!” Mason exclaimed, faking disgust. “One of our finest, and you stole his soul.” He shook his head. “Shame on you, Georgia.” He grinned. “Oh, and I win, then.”
George sent a glare to Daisy across the booth, before turning to Mason. “He was purposely killing his patients and then selling their organs on the black market so he could pay off his gambling debts.”
Mason’s face fell and his shoulders slouched. “Oh.”
Daisy smiled at George. “Well, in that case, I believe Georgia does win after all.” Following a brief pause, she added, “Again.”
Mason crossed his arms in front of his chest and sunk down lower into the booth. “This sucks.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Mason. It’s not like you actually win anything.”
He stared at her incredulously. “Except knowing that I have beaten little miss goody two shoes over here.” He jabbed his thumb in George’s direction, and she smiled widely.
“Well, wait,” Mason added after a moment, straightening up and turning to look at George. “You never told me about your reap yesterday,” he said. “How do I know that you didn’t like, reap a saint or something? Because then, I would win.”
“Oh, give it up, Mason,” Daisy said in exasperation before turning back to the paper.
George’s smile widened even further and she stared directly at Mason. “You want to know who I reaped yesterday?”
“Yes, Georgie, I do.”
“My reap was a cranky middle aged man.”
“Occupation.”
“Delivery driver.”
“Go on.”
George was barely aware of Roxy sliding into the booth next to Daisy as she delved into the explanation that would surely secure her spot as winner. “He was a cheater, a drinker, he yelled at his wife and kids, then left them for some prostitute he met last week. Oh, and did I mention how he had recently backed over the family’s dog… on purpose.”
Mason cringed. “Ugh.”
George smiled at him. “Exactly, I win.”
Mason threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine. You win.” Then he turned to smile at Roxy. “Morning officer. How do you feel about buying a poor man some breakfast?”
Roxy ignored him and looked straight to George. “Is he out of money again?”
George nodded. “Again.”
Roxy shook her head. “Mason, when the hell are you ever going to learn?”
He shrugged his shoulders and tried to look innocent. “Next time, I promise.”
She considered it for a moment and then told him, “No.”
“What? Oh, come on, Roxy. Puh-leaseeeee…”
“I said, no.”
They were interrupted by Kiffany, notepad in hand. “Morning,” she said pleasantly, looking at their newest arrival. “What can I get for you my dear?”
Roxy turned to smile at the waitress. “A nice huge stack of pancakes, with extra syrup. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
Kiffany jotted it down, but said, “Pancakes I can do, but unfortunately we’ve run out of syrup.”
“Wait,” George said, butting in. “How do you run out of syrup at Der Waffle Haus?”
Kiffany shook her head. “It’s a sad story. Our delivery driver… there was a terrible accident yesterday. He was supposed to be bringing in a double order today, but… Well, I won’t get into the details, especially not at breakfast time.” She sighed and gave them all a sad smile. “God rest his soul.”
Once Kiffany walked away the other three reapers turned to stare at George. It was Roxy who spoke. “Was this man, your ‘winning reap’, a syrup delivery man?” She seemed more than a little angry.
George shrunk back into her seat. “Maybe…” she said weakly.
Roxy fixed her with an ice-cold glare. “That’s it, I’m calling it this time.” She turned to look at Mason. “Congratulations. Even though I can rarely stand the sight of your lazy ass, I’m declaring you the winner.” She returned her gaze back to George. “The syrup man, George…” She shook her head.
“Wait,” George rushed to explain. “Did you hear what I said about him? About what kind of person he was?” Her frantic words were cut off by Mason’s delayed reaction.
“I win?” He asked, beaming. “I win! Ha, take that Georgie. Good ol’ Mason wins!”
“Stuff it,” she told him angrily.
The End
Author: Nytel
Rating: PG
Characters: George, Mason, Daisy, Roxy, Kiffany
Genre: Gen fic
Summary: She figured that the more bad souls she took out of the world, the better she was for it. Well, that and continually beating Mason was fun.
Word Count: 915
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. I am merely borrowing them.
A/N: My first Dead Like Me fic. To be honest I'm feeling a bit nervous, but I thought I should still go ahead and post it anyway. :) Written for i_am_girlfriday and her prompt 'syrup'.
Syrup Shortage
“No, Mason,” George said excitedly, feeling so good that she was practically bouncing in her seat of the booth at Der Waffle Haus. “I win this week.”
“What?” He exclaimed. “No way. One of my reaps was a heroine addict who lived on the street. Please explain to me, how you can beat that.”
“Yes, please Georgia,” Daisy piped in from across the booth, though she didn’t look up from the paper she was reading.
It was Sunday morning and they were waiting for Rube and Roxy, neither of whom had shown up yet. George and Mason were comparing their reaps from the previous week, determining who ‘won’. Of course, there wasn’t actually a prize at the end of each week, just the satisfaction of knowing that the souls the winner had taken were more rotten than the ones taken by the other person. It was one small comfort of reaper life that George had discovered. She figured that the more bad souls she took out of the world, the better she was for it. Well, that and continually beating Mason was fun.
“Wait,” Daisy continued, finally looking up from whatever entertainment news she was reading. “Didn’t you reap a doctor this week?”
“A doctor?!” Mason exclaimed, faking disgust. “One of our finest, and you stole his soul.” He shook his head. “Shame on you, Georgia.” He grinned. “Oh, and I win, then.”
George sent a glare to Daisy across the booth, before turning to Mason. “He was purposely killing his patients and then selling their organs on the black market so he could pay off his gambling debts.”
Mason’s face fell and his shoulders slouched. “Oh.”
Daisy smiled at George. “Well, in that case, I believe Georgia does win after all.” Following a brief pause, she added, “Again.”
Mason crossed his arms in front of his chest and sunk down lower into the booth. “This sucks.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Mason. It’s not like you actually win anything.”
He stared at her incredulously. “Except knowing that I have beaten little miss goody two shoes over here.” He jabbed his thumb in George’s direction, and she smiled widely.
“Well, wait,” Mason added after a moment, straightening up and turning to look at George. “You never told me about your reap yesterday,” he said. “How do I know that you didn’t like, reap a saint or something? Because then, I would win.”
“Oh, give it up, Mason,” Daisy said in exasperation before turning back to the paper.
George’s smile widened even further and she stared directly at Mason. “You want to know who I reaped yesterday?”
“Yes, Georgie, I do.”
“My reap was a cranky middle aged man.”
“Occupation.”
“Delivery driver.”
“Go on.”
George was barely aware of Roxy sliding into the booth next to Daisy as she delved into the explanation that would surely secure her spot as winner. “He was a cheater, a drinker, he yelled at his wife and kids, then left them for some prostitute he met last week. Oh, and did I mention how he had recently backed over the family’s dog… on purpose.”
Mason cringed. “Ugh.”
George smiled at him. “Exactly, I win.”
Mason threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine. You win.” Then he turned to smile at Roxy. “Morning officer. How do you feel about buying a poor man some breakfast?”
Roxy ignored him and looked straight to George. “Is he out of money again?”
George nodded. “Again.”
Roxy shook her head. “Mason, when the hell are you ever going to learn?”
He shrugged his shoulders and tried to look innocent. “Next time, I promise.”
She considered it for a moment and then told him, “No.”
“What? Oh, come on, Roxy. Puh-leaseeeee…”
“I said, no.”
They were interrupted by Kiffany, notepad in hand. “Morning,” she said pleasantly, looking at their newest arrival. “What can I get for you my dear?”
Roxy turned to smile at the waitress. “A nice huge stack of pancakes, with extra syrup. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
Kiffany jotted it down, but said, “Pancakes I can do, but unfortunately we’ve run out of syrup.”
“Wait,” George said, butting in. “How do you run out of syrup at Der Waffle Haus?”
Kiffany shook her head. “It’s a sad story. Our delivery driver… there was a terrible accident yesterday. He was supposed to be bringing in a double order today, but… Well, I won’t get into the details, especially not at breakfast time.” She sighed and gave them all a sad smile. “God rest his soul.”
Once Kiffany walked away the other three reapers turned to stare at George. It was Roxy who spoke. “Was this man, your ‘winning reap’, a syrup delivery man?” She seemed more than a little angry.
George shrunk back into her seat. “Maybe…” she said weakly.
Roxy fixed her with an ice-cold glare. “That’s it, I’m calling it this time.” She turned to look at Mason. “Congratulations. Even though I can rarely stand the sight of your lazy ass, I’m declaring you the winner.” She returned her gaze back to George. “The syrup man, George…” She shook her head.
“Wait,” George rushed to explain. “Did you hear what I said about him? About what kind of person he was?” Her frantic words were cut off by Mason’s delayed reaction.
“I win?” He asked, beaming. “I win! Ha, take that Georgie. Good ol’ Mason wins!”
“Stuff it,” she told him angrily.
The End