[Fic] Chuck vs. Trash
Title: Chuck vs. Trash
Author: themaskedmckay
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Chuck
Characters: Chuck, Casey
Words: 2,498
Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me.
Summary: Chuck has a quiet day at home and learns a few things about Casey.
Spoilers: First season.
Author's Notes: I like writing little slice-of-life sort of fics. The quiet moments they don't air on the show fascinate me. Cross posted to Operation Chuck
Being useful was something Chuck just did. Helping customers, offering advice to friends, and he liked to help out around the apartment but that was mostly to offset the guilt of invading what could have been Ellie and Devon's pre-nuptial love nest.
He knew they didn't mind him living with them but he couldn't help feeling a bit lame, living with his big sister. They hadn't said anything but Chuck hadn't been keeping up with his share of the chores since Bryce had sent him the Intersect. So, on a rare day off he decided to do a few things around the apartment to make up for it.
The bathroom was the first to get tackled. Three people and one bathroom was not a combination for an easy to keep clean space. Chuck dug around under the sink for the Mr. Clean and filled the sink with hot, cleanser-enhanced water. He snapped on a pair of yellow, rubber gloves and grabbed one of the worn sponges Ellie liked to leave under the sink to dry.
Every surface got a thorough scrubbing and after weeks of keeping a hectic double life going, not to mention straining his brain to use the Intersect, it was really nice to lose himself in some mindless physical activity.
The tiles in the shower got a light spray of some specialty cleaning product Ellie insisted they use and he had to admit the soap scum DID come off as easily as advertised. He'd have to apologize to Ellie for doubting her housekeeping wisdom; and for doing the ‘silly dance' in front of her...
..and for encouraging Devon to do the dance, too. And for teaching him the song that went with the dance.
Then again, emptying the bathroom garbage was a pretty good apology, right? He liked to think he was a pretty enlightened, female-friendly guy but when he moved in with his sister he had insisted on a bathroom trash can with a lid so he didn't have to see any of his sister's used feminine products. He never lifted that lid, even if he had a used Kleenex or Q-tip to dispose of; he brought them to his room and threw them out in his garbage. Only when he cleaned the bathroom did he venture into the unknown and braved lifting the lid. He kept his eyes closed while he tied the white garbage bag in a neat knot and pulled it out of the canister. Mission accomplished!
Chuck wondered if Casey had sisters and if he did if he'd ever had to deal with their used products. Maybe that's why he joined the military.
He tossed the bag in one of the bins outside and saw Casey washing his car. Or, rather, making love to his car with a soapy rag. Chuck shook his head, it figured Casey would show more feeling towards an inanimate object than another human being; the inanimate object couldn't return the affection.
"Heya, Casey!"
Casey sighed and didn't turn his head. His hand stopped its loving passes over the hood of his beloved Crown Victoria, "Bartowski," he managed to growl when he said it which was a feat considering the vowels involved.
"Having fun?"
"Hn."
"Do you have any sisters?"
"Go away, Chuck."
"I was cleaning the bathroom and I wondered if you had any sisters. I figured you kind of act like an only child but then again you could have been the youngest. That could have been traumatizing if you had enough sisters, right? I mean, I only have one sister and cleaning up her used feminine products is enough to give me nightmares."
Casey seemed to be sub-vocalizing a count. For the record, he was on six.
"Anyways, I have to go out and get some stuff. Just thought I'd let you know!"
"Noted."
"Cool, cool, so um," Chuck rocked back on his heels and seemed to be considering how to proceed, "does that mean I can go on my own; or do you have to go with me? Because, I'm cool with going on my own if you're busy here! I just need to hit the grocery store and the pharmacy and possibly stop by EBGames to see if the expansion pack is out for my ga..."
Chuck's voice trailed off when Casey slowly turned around, armed with a hose,
"I'll drive."
"Um, okay?"
---
It could have been worse, Chuck mused as he stood in line at the grocery store, he wasn't sure how exactly but if being the Intersect had taught him anything it was that any situation could be made worse. Casey had frog marched him through the aisles and when Chuck stopped to ponder the differences between two products he'd snatch one without looking and throw it in the cart with a growl of,
"Stop wasting time, Bartowski."
It took them seven minutes to finish the shopping. Chuck was too timid to check to see if the eggs were undamaged. Also, they'd be eating some sort of 'health food' cereal this week because Casey had replaced the Fruity Puffs Chuck had picked out.
Chuck was so flustered he even forgot to flirt with the cute check out girl like he usually did. He missed the little pout of disappointment on her face because Casey was pushing him towards the doors.
"Okay! Okay! I'm walking!" Chuck exclaimed.
"Not fast enough, I still want to get a coat of wax on the Vic."
"You didn't have to come, you know!"
"Hn," it was truly amazing how much Casey could say with monosyllabic grunts. "We done?"
"No! I told you we have to hit the pharmacy still. I have a list from Devon, he probably needs vitamins and some of that muscle-boost powder he puts in his shakes."
"You should try that stuff, Chuck."
"Um, ew? And what's wrong with my physique? I'm plenty big enough!"
"Hnhnhn," a chuckle-grunt answered him. Chuck wished he could say that was a new sound out of Casey.
"Just because I'm not some sort of muscle-head doesn't mean I'm not shapely."
"We should get you jogging and working with weights. If you were in better shape it would be easier to save your sorry ass." Casey reconsidered what he'd just said, "You could run away faster."
"Now you're just being mean!" Chuck stopped in the vitamin aisle and pulled out the sticky note Devon had left on the counter for him. "Vitamin B50 complex, calcium magnesium 1000u, primrose oil..." Chuck paused, "I wonder what that does?"
"Alleviates the symptoms of PMS," Casey replied automatically.
"Bwuh? And how do you know that?"
"It says right on the bottle," Casey pointed to the label where it said, in small print, what he had just said.
"You could read that from there? Noooo..." Chuck's eyes narrowed, "You DO have a sister, don't you? Or a girlfriend? Or a wife?"
"That everything on the list?"
"Oh, c'mon! You can tell me! Aren't we buddies?" Casey gave Chuck the hairy eyeball and Chuck verbally backpedaled, "Okay, aren't we, um, acquaintances?"
"You're going to keep bugging me about this, aren't you?" Casey asked.
"If it means getting an answer out of you, then yes!"
"Fine, I have sisters. I have older sisters. Now drop it."
Chuck practically clicked his heels together in victory, "Sure thing, buddy!" He looked at the list in his hand and grabbed a big jar of creatine powder then looked again at the list and blanched, "Devon wants me to pick up condoms!"
"So? Don't tell me you've never bought condoms before."
"For me, yes! For my sister’s fiancé? Never! Oh man, he didn't write what type or size or anything!" Chuck ran his fingers through his hair while he pondered, "I guess he's pretty big? I mean, from what I've seen. Accidently seen! I don't check out Devon's, um, man parts!"
Casey gave Chuck a withering look, reached over, and selected a box of condoms from the shelf and dropped them in his basket. "One box of large Trojan Magnum Ecstasy and two of the Her Pleasure vibrating rings."
Chuck stared at Casey in horror, "Why do you know that? How do you know that?"
Casey shrugged, "All part of the job. The agency goes through all the Bartowski household trash and sends me the reports."
"What?" Chuck leaned in close and whispered, "You guys go through our trash?"
"You can learn a lot about a person from what they throw away."
"Great," Chuck said. "I think it's an indication of how jaded I've become that I can't even be angry about that."
"We done?"
"Yeah, I guess. I should get started on the kitchen, I'm making supper tonight."
"Great, I'll make sure my fire extinguisher is prepped."
"Hardy har, har."
---------------
Despite Casey’s pessimism, Chuck could slap together a passable stove top casserole.
It wasn't that hard to make macaroni, brown some ground beef, and toss it all together with some canned odds and ends; he even threw in a cup of frozen peas as a concession to Devon's health conscious lifestyle. He left the pot on low heat, tossed the empty cans into the big trash bag he'd been filling up while he cleaned, and knotted the top of the bag.
He slipped his sneakers on and walked the garbage bag out to where the trash bins were pushed against a wall. He wondered, briefly, how often Casey took his garbage out and how he'd identify his bag. Not that he was planning on sifting through Casey's trash or anything... well, not with a fine-toothed comb anyways. He was just curious what he could learn about Casey from his trash and really, fair was fair!
"No soliciting, Bartowski." Chuck jumped and clutched his chest,
"Don't DO that, Casey!"
"Then don't stand there looking like a goober." Casey formed a gun with his hand and pressed his index finger against Chuck's forehead, "It makes you an easy target." He pretended to shoot and Chuck flinched.
Chuck shoved his garbage bag into the container with a grunt, "You know, you could stand to relax a bit."
"Nope. I relax and you die."
"Thanks for the reminder."
Casey looked at Chuck and smirked, "You weren't," Casey's eyes narrowed, "thinking about going through my garbage, were you?"
"What? No! Nooo, nonono. Why would I do that?"
"Heh." Casey shoved a knotted white garbage bag into Chuck's chest. "Knock yourself out, kid."
-------------
Chuck waited until after supper to open the bag.
His casserole was declared visual vomit but tasty despite that. Ellie had been impressed with the clean kitchen and bathroom and had covered him in affection and praise; it felt good! He might screw up daily when it came to spy stuff but when it came to domesticity he could rock it like a hurricane.
He grabbed a big, green garbage bag from the kitchen and cut it down two sides so he could open it up like a tarp and spread it on his bedroom floor. He carefully untied Casey's garbage bag and looked inside, checking for any wet garbage before he upended the contents onto his makeshift tarp.
He sifted through the contents aimlessly, then decided to apply a bit of logic and started sorting the trash into piles based on material. Papers, tissues, plastics, metals... the tissues made the biggest pile and Chuck wished he'd thought to put rubber gloves on. Hopefully the tissues were just used for nose blowing? Sopping up spills? Not for traditionally nocturnal activities.
"What have we here?" he muttered as he flipped through the paper and cardboard pile. A box for cold medication was carefully flattened out like it was prepared for recycling. If only they had a recycling program set up for the complex; they must be the only place in California without one. Oh, but that was a clue, right? Casey had the habits in place from living somewhere else, somewhere that had a recycling program and he was conscientious enough to use it. Three tins of flaked tuna in water were rinsed out, cleaned, and reinforced the recycling habit theory.
Cold medicine would explain the pile of tissues. It would also explain why he hadn't noticed Casey sniffling during the day; these were daytime relief capsules. Chuck smiled wryly; he wouldn't be Casey if he didn't try to hide his weakness.
He read through the receipts for a grocery store, a pharmacy, and a liquor store. He’s purchased tinned tuna, bananas, pudding cups, instant chicken noodle soup, cold medicine, and scotch. Chuck checked the empty pudding cups and silently approved of Casey's choice of chocolate fudge. Who knew he had a sweet tooth?
He wondered what he'd learn from going through Sarah's garbage. Almost immediately he dismissed the idea as Morgan-level stalking; he wouldn't even be going through Casey's garbage if he hadn't given it to him; probably.
And why had Casey given him his garbage and his blessing to go through it? Did he think he was so incompetent he wouldn't be able to pick up anything about Casey from his trash? Maybe this was his messed up way of sharing because he was so emotionally repressed he couldn't talk to him directly?
Whatever the reason, it was sort of fun; like putting together a puzzle.
---
Casey watched Chuck go through his garbage from the comfort of his apartment. He had to admit, the kid did a pretty good job considering he had no training. He had a lot of potential as an analyst but he seemed convinced he was destined for a ‘normal’ life.
Maybe he shouldn't put him up to these little tests but when the time came for a recommendation he wanted to make sure of his confidence in Chuck. "Hey, Casey?"
Casey turned his attention back to the monitors and saw Chuck looking up at the most obvious camera in his room; the one he always covered up when he needed 'private time'. He couldn't reply so he waited for Chuck to continue. Chuck held up the flattened cold medication box,
"I hope you're feeling better."
"Heh," it was the most obvious clue.
"And um... you're going to be pretty constipated if this is all you've been eating."
"Heh," that was a bit better. Way to use that big brain.
"And if you're really this bummed out," Chuck held up the liquor store receipt, "you know you can always come over for dinner. Or, or we could hang out, do something together, maybe go bowling or take in an auto show. You know, whatever you want to do. Drinking alone isn’t a very good sign."
"Damn!" Casey swore and spilled his drink on himself. He took a drink of scotch then swore again and put the glass down.
"G'nite, Casey! I’ll make sure to talk to you about this in the morning. Maybe we can hang out!"
Casey downed the scotch in his glass, "Me and my stupid, damned ideas."
Author: themaskedmckay
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Chuck
Characters: Chuck, Casey
Words: 2,498
Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me.
Summary: Chuck has a quiet day at home and learns a few things about Casey.
Spoilers: First season.
Author's Notes: I like writing little slice-of-life sort of fics. The quiet moments they don't air on the show fascinate me. Cross posted to Operation Chuck
Being useful was something Chuck just did. Helping customers, offering advice to friends, and he liked to help out around the apartment but that was mostly to offset the guilt of invading what could have been Ellie and Devon's pre-nuptial love nest.
He knew they didn't mind him living with them but he couldn't help feeling a bit lame, living with his big sister. They hadn't said anything but Chuck hadn't been keeping up with his share of the chores since Bryce had sent him the Intersect. So, on a rare day off he decided to do a few things around the apartment to make up for it.
The bathroom was the first to get tackled. Three people and one bathroom was not a combination for an easy to keep clean space. Chuck dug around under the sink for the Mr. Clean and filled the sink with hot, cleanser-enhanced water. He snapped on a pair of yellow, rubber gloves and grabbed one of the worn sponges Ellie liked to leave under the sink to dry.
Every surface got a thorough scrubbing and after weeks of keeping a hectic double life going, not to mention straining his brain to use the Intersect, it was really nice to lose himself in some mindless physical activity.
The tiles in the shower got a light spray of some specialty cleaning product Ellie insisted they use and he had to admit the soap scum DID come off as easily as advertised. He'd have to apologize to Ellie for doubting her housekeeping wisdom; and for doing the ‘silly dance' in front of her...
..and for encouraging Devon to do the dance, too. And for teaching him the song that went with the dance.
Then again, emptying the bathroom garbage was a pretty good apology, right? He liked to think he was a pretty enlightened, female-friendly guy but when he moved in with his sister he had insisted on a bathroom trash can with a lid so he didn't have to see any of his sister's used feminine products. He never lifted that lid, even if he had a used Kleenex or Q-tip to dispose of; he brought them to his room and threw them out in his garbage. Only when he cleaned the bathroom did he venture into the unknown and braved lifting the lid. He kept his eyes closed while he tied the white garbage bag in a neat knot and pulled it out of the canister. Mission accomplished!
Chuck wondered if Casey had sisters and if he did if he'd ever had to deal with their used products. Maybe that's why he joined the military.
He tossed the bag in one of the bins outside and saw Casey washing his car. Or, rather, making love to his car with a soapy rag. Chuck shook his head, it figured Casey would show more feeling towards an inanimate object than another human being; the inanimate object couldn't return the affection.
"Heya, Casey!"
Casey sighed and didn't turn his head. His hand stopped its loving passes over the hood of his beloved Crown Victoria, "Bartowski," he managed to growl when he said it which was a feat considering the vowels involved.
"Having fun?"
"Hn."
"Do you have any sisters?"
"Go away, Chuck."
"I was cleaning the bathroom and I wondered if you had any sisters. I figured you kind of act like an only child but then again you could have been the youngest. That could have been traumatizing if you had enough sisters, right? I mean, I only have one sister and cleaning up her used feminine products is enough to give me nightmares."
Casey seemed to be sub-vocalizing a count. For the record, he was on six.
"Anyways, I have to go out and get some stuff. Just thought I'd let you know!"
"Noted."
"Cool, cool, so um," Chuck rocked back on his heels and seemed to be considering how to proceed, "does that mean I can go on my own; or do you have to go with me? Because, I'm cool with going on my own if you're busy here! I just need to hit the grocery store and the pharmacy and possibly stop by EBGames to see if the expansion pack is out for my ga..."
Chuck's voice trailed off when Casey slowly turned around, armed with a hose,
"I'll drive."
"Um, okay?"
---
It could have been worse, Chuck mused as he stood in line at the grocery store, he wasn't sure how exactly but if being the Intersect had taught him anything it was that any situation could be made worse. Casey had frog marched him through the aisles and when Chuck stopped to ponder the differences between two products he'd snatch one without looking and throw it in the cart with a growl of,
"Stop wasting time, Bartowski."
It took them seven minutes to finish the shopping. Chuck was too timid to check to see if the eggs were undamaged. Also, they'd be eating some sort of 'health food' cereal this week because Casey had replaced the Fruity Puffs Chuck had picked out.
Chuck was so flustered he even forgot to flirt with the cute check out girl like he usually did. He missed the little pout of disappointment on her face because Casey was pushing him towards the doors.
"Okay! Okay! I'm walking!" Chuck exclaimed.
"Not fast enough, I still want to get a coat of wax on the Vic."
"You didn't have to come, you know!"
"Hn," it was truly amazing how much Casey could say with monosyllabic grunts. "We done?"
"No! I told you we have to hit the pharmacy still. I have a list from Devon, he probably needs vitamins and some of that muscle-boost powder he puts in his shakes."
"You should try that stuff, Chuck."
"Um, ew? And what's wrong with my physique? I'm plenty big enough!"
"Hnhnhn," a chuckle-grunt answered him. Chuck wished he could say that was a new sound out of Casey.
"Just because I'm not some sort of muscle-head doesn't mean I'm not shapely."
"We should get you jogging and working with weights. If you were in better shape it would be easier to save your sorry ass." Casey reconsidered what he'd just said, "You could run away faster."
"Now you're just being mean!" Chuck stopped in the vitamin aisle and pulled out the sticky note Devon had left on the counter for him. "Vitamin B50 complex, calcium magnesium 1000u, primrose oil..." Chuck paused, "I wonder what that does?"
"Alleviates the symptoms of PMS," Casey replied automatically.
"Bwuh? And how do you know that?"
"It says right on the bottle," Casey pointed to the label where it said, in small print, what he had just said.
"You could read that from there? Noooo..." Chuck's eyes narrowed, "You DO have a sister, don't you? Or a girlfriend? Or a wife?"
"That everything on the list?"
"Oh, c'mon! You can tell me! Aren't we buddies?" Casey gave Chuck the hairy eyeball and Chuck verbally backpedaled, "Okay, aren't we, um, acquaintances?"
"You're going to keep bugging me about this, aren't you?" Casey asked.
"If it means getting an answer out of you, then yes!"
"Fine, I have sisters. I have older sisters. Now drop it."
Chuck practically clicked his heels together in victory, "Sure thing, buddy!" He looked at the list in his hand and grabbed a big jar of creatine powder then looked again at the list and blanched, "Devon wants me to pick up condoms!"
"So? Don't tell me you've never bought condoms before."
"For me, yes! For my sister’s fiancé? Never! Oh man, he didn't write what type or size or anything!" Chuck ran his fingers through his hair while he pondered, "I guess he's pretty big? I mean, from what I've seen. Accidently seen! I don't check out Devon's, um, man parts!"
Casey gave Chuck a withering look, reached over, and selected a box of condoms from the shelf and dropped them in his basket. "One box of large Trojan Magnum Ecstasy and two of the Her Pleasure vibrating rings."
Chuck stared at Casey in horror, "Why do you know that? How do you know that?"
Casey shrugged, "All part of the job. The agency goes through all the Bartowski household trash and sends me the reports."
"What?" Chuck leaned in close and whispered, "You guys go through our trash?"
"You can learn a lot about a person from what they throw away."
"Great," Chuck said. "I think it's an indication of how jaded I've become that I can't even be angry about that."
"We done?"
"Yeah, I guess. I should get started on the kitchen, I'm making supper tonight."
"Great, I'll make sure my fire extinguisher is prepped."
"Hardy har, har."
---------------
Despite Casey’s pessimism, Chuck could slap together a passable stove top casserole.
It wasn't that hard to make macaroni, brown some ground beef, and toss it all together with some canned odds and ends; he even threw in a cup of frozen peas as a concession to Devon's health conscious lifestyle. He left the pot on low heat, tossed the empty cans into the big trash bag he'd been filling up while he cleaned, and knotted the top of the bag.
He slipped his sneakers on and walked the garbage bag out to where the trash bins were pushed against a wall. He wondered, briefly, how often Casey took his garbage out and how he'd identify his bag. Not that he was planning on sifting through Casey's trash or anything... well, not with a fine-toothed comb anyways. He was just curious what he could learn about Casey from his trash and really, fair was fair!
"No soliciting, Bartowski." Chuck jumped and clutched his chest,
"Don't DO that, Casey!"
"Then don't stand there looking like a goober." Casey formed a gun with his hand and pressed his index finger against Chuck's forehead, "It makes you an easy target." He pretended to shoot and Chuck flinched.
Chuck shoved his garbage bag into the container with a grunt, "You know, you could stand to relax a bit."
"Nope. I relax and you die."
"Thanks for the reminder."
Casey looked at Chuck and smirked, "You weren't," Casey's eyes narrowed, "thinking about going through my garbage, were you?"
"What? No! Nooo, nonono. Why would I do that?"
"Heh." Casey shoved a knotted white garbage bag into Chuck's chest. "Knock yourself out, kid."
-------------
Chuck waited until after supper to open the bag.
His casserole was declared visual vomit but tasty despite that. Ellie had been impressed with the clean kitchen and bathroom and had covered him in affection and praise; it felt good! He might screw up daily when it came to spy stuff but when it came to domesticity he could rock it like a hurricane.
He grabbed a big, green garbage bag from the kitchen and cut it down two sides so he could open it up like a tarp and spread it on his bedroom floor. He carefully untied Casey's garbage bag and looked inside, checking for any wet garbage before he upended the contents onto his makeshift tarp.
He sifted through the contents aimlessly, then decided to apply a bit of logic and started sorting the trash into piles based on material. Papers, tissues, plastics, metals... the tissues made the biggest pile and Chuck wished he'd thought to put rubber gloves on. Hopefully the tissues were just used for nose blowing? Sopping up spills? Not for traditionally nocturnal activities.
"What have we here?" he muttered as he flipped through the paper and cardboard pile. A box for cold medication was carefully flattened out like it was prepared for recycling. If only they had a recycling program set up for the complex; they must be the only place in California without one. Oh, but that was a clue, right? Casey had the habits in place from living somewhere else, somewhere that had a recycling program and he was conscientious enough to use it. Three tins of flaked tuna in water were rinsed out, cleaned, and reinforced the recycling habit theory.
Cold medicine would explain the pile of tissues. It would also explain why he hadn't noticed Casey sniffling during the day; these were daytime relief capsules. Chuck smiled wryly; he wouldn't be Casey if he didn't try to hide his weakness.
He read through the receipts for a grocery store, a pharmacy, and a liquor store. He’s purchased tinned tuna, bananas, pudding cups, instant chicken noodle soup, cold medicine, and scotch. Chuck checked the empty pudding cups and silently approved of Casey's choice of chocolate fudge. Who knew he had a sweet tooth?
He wondered what he'd learn from going through Sarah's garbage. Almost immediately he dismissed the idea as Morgan-level stalking; he wouldn't even be going through Casey's garbage if he hadn't given it to him; probably.
And why had Casey given him his garbage and his blessing to go through it? Did he think he was so incompetent he wouldn't be able to pick up anything about Casey from his trash? Maybe this was his messed up way of sharing because he was so emotionally repressed he couldn't talk to him directly?
Whatever the reason, it was sort of fun; like putting together a puzzle.
---
Casey watched Chuck go through his garbage from the comfort of his apartment. He had to admit, the kid did a pretty good job considering he had no training. He had a lot of potential as an analyst but he seemed convinced he was destined for a ‘normal’ life.
Maybe he shouldn't put him up to these little tests but when the time came for a recommendation he wanted to make sure of his confidence in Chuck. "Hey, Casey?"
Casey turned his attention back to the monitors and saw Chuck looking up at the most obvious camera in his room; the one he always covered up when he needed 'private time'. He couldn't reply so he waited for Chuck to continue. Chuck held up the flattened cold medication box,
"I hope you're feeling better."
"Heh," it was the most obvious clue.
"And um... you're going to be pretty constipated if this is all you've been eating."
"Heh," that was a bit better. Way to use that big brain.
"And if you're really this bummed out," Chuck held up the liquor store receipt, "you know you can always come over for dinner. Or, or we could hang out, do something together, maybe go bowling or take in an auto show. You know, whatever you want to do. Drinking alone isn’t a very good sign."
"Damn!" Casey swore and spilled his drink on himself. He took a drink of scotch then swore again and put the glass down.
"G'nite, Casey! I’ll make sure to talk to you about this in the morning. Maybe we can hang out!"
Casey downed the scotch in his glass, "Me and my stupid, damned ideas."