In My Soup
By
E. S. Young
Note: This is just a bit of silliness, really. In a way, this is a slash fic written to "make up" for all of the het that I've been posting, as of late. And, also, it's the result of a good friend of mine randomly posing the question: "Why in the hell are they called 'Animal Crackers' when they are so obviously cookies?"
۞۞۞
"Mate," he called from the bedroom, "have y'seen my Animal Crackers?"
"Nope."
"Where in th' hell…" he muttered, dark eyes scanning the shabby little apartment. Normally, it took a lot to get under his skin. Because of this, he had always fancied himself the sort of person who kept the peace, the one who rolled with the punches, who settled arguments rather than started them. The calm before, during, and after the storm. But, bloody hell, when things just up and disappeared with no explanation, it made him downright cross. Especially when they were things he liked, things he wanted. Such as Animal Crackers.
"This is bloody ridiculous, " he continued to rant as he stormed into the living room. "I put 'em right—"
He stopped. There, slumped low on the sofa, was Max, his feet propped up on the coffee table, a box of Animal Crackers at his side.
"Max," he began, slowly approaching from behind, "are those my Animal Crackers you've got there?"
The blond glanced down at the box of (most likely, almost definitely pilfered) cookies.
"No, these are mine."
"Oh?" he asked. "How can you be sure?"
"Wellll…" Max said slowly. "…yours were in the bedroom."
"Cheeky little bastard!" And he swatted Max upside the head.
"What?" his friend demanded innocently.
He vaulted over the back of the sofa, settling down next to the other boy and promptly snagged back his cookies.
"Y'could've just asked, y'know."
With feigned confusion, Max replied, "Why would I ask you if I can eat my own cookies?"
He raised one of what Max called his 'very-expressive-eyebrows.'
"You're not gonna let this go, are ye?"
"Mm, not letting these go, either," the other boy responded, making a grab for the cookies.
"Oi!" he exclaimed, holding the box out of reach. "Get your own!"
"C'mon, Jude!" Max wheedled, stretching across him, swiping vainly at the Animal Crackers. "Good boyfriends share!"
"Good boyfriends don't steal their lover's cookies!" he retorted, trying to shove Max away. "Get off me, y'wanker!"
The blond shoved him back, cackling. "That's not what you said last night, baby!"
"Sorry but I'm afraid your appalling act of thievery has rather ruined the mood."
"Yeah, well, your selfishness has ruined the mood for me."
"Mate, nothing could ruin the mood for you. All y'have t'do is mention sex and you perk right up—in every sense of the phrase, I'm sure."
"Yeah, but you gotta admit—that's convenient," Max pointed out smugly, finally giving up on his attempt to steal back the cookies and settling down next to him.
"I s'ppose," he agreed begrudgingly, though he found himself automatically slipping an arm around the blond's shoulders. Max complied immediately, snuggling against him more comfortably.
"C'mon," he continued, "you know it's why you love me."
"S'not the only reason, mate," he said, leaning over to kiss the other boy's temple.
"Well, then," Max began calculatingly, "if you loved me so much, then you'd share your cookies with me."
A moment's silence.
Then, with a heavy sigh and a very pointed glare, he shoved the box at his friend.
Smirking triumphantly, Max plunged a hand into the box, rummaging around until he found a cookie that was apparently to his liking. Finally, his hand emerged with one that was shaped like an elephant. He held it up to the light, squinting critically.
"You ever wonder why they call them animal crackers?"
He pretended to contemplate this. "Mm, no, can't say that I have, mate."
"Well…think about it, man!" Max insisted. "They call them crackers but they aren't! They're fucking cookies. It's misleading, y'know? They're lying to children by calling them crackers—and shit like that can cause serious damage to a person's mental state when they're older."
"Clearly," he replied, raising his eyebrows indicatively at his best mate, who failed to notice as he was now fully swept up in a tirade about nasty, deceitful cookie companies.
"And that kid!" he railed on. "That goddamn kid who sang the song about putting Animal Crackers in her soup, which is fucking disgusting. I mean, Jesus, who would put that shit in soup? Anyway, you know the one I mean."
"Can't say that I do, luv."
"You're lucky, then." Max shook his head. "Man, my mom and sisters were in love with Shirley Temple. Of course, Lucy will never admit it, but there's plenty of incriminating evidence that says otherwise. Like, one year she dressed up as cute little Shirley for Halloween—you guys have that in the UK, right?"
"Kinda, yeah. I don't think it's as big a deal over there as it is over here, though."
"Okay. Just checking. So anyway, Luce went as Shirley Temple for Halloween, and, of course, Mom made me miss out on an hour of trick-or-treating taking pictures because, 'Oh, don't you all just look so cute!'" And here Max did a terrible, high-pitched, screeching version of his mother's voice and actually went as far as to reach across the sofa and pinched one of his cheeks for emphasis.
"Sounds brutal," he remarked, rubbing the side of his face.
"Yeah, but that wasn't the end of it," Max continued. "Little Lucy paraded around as Shirley Temple for weeks after that. She wouldn't take the damn costume off. Seriously, there were times when I thought that it had become a necessity, like a second skin or something and she couldn't take it off." He shook his head, eyes bright with nostalgia. "And that song, fuckin' all day, every day she'd sing it."
He bit back a grin. "What song is that, mate?"
"Oh, you know the one." Clearly fed up with his ignorance of American culture, his best mate sighed and leapt to his feet. Standing before him, not caring in the least, he placed his hands on his hips and proceeded to dance.
"Animal crackers in my soup!"
And sing. While shuffling his feet in a weird, kicking sort of manner.
"Monkeys and rabbits loop the loop!"
Looking straight at him, blue eyes wide, and grinning in what he imagined was supposed to be a cute manner but was actually rather frightening, Max bent over, slapping his palms on the tops of his thighs.
"Gosh, oh, gee, but I have fun
Swallowing animals one by one!"
Straightening up again, the blond began to twirl in a circle.
"Just like that," he explained, waving his arms and fluttering his hands daintily while still twirling. "And then, she'd always say 'Lookit me, guys! I'm Shirley Temple!'"
Max stood there, arms widespread, looking quite pleased with himself.
He just shook his head.
"What?" Max demanded, looking hurt.
"Nothin', nothin,'" he laughed quietly, holding out his arms for his best mate. "C'mere, y'loony."
"What?" the other boy asked again. "You didn't like my performance?"
"No, no, it was lovely," he assured him sarcastically. "Just…after seeing that, I'm gonna need a fag."
Grinning, Max slid into his embrace.
"Mm, you've already got one."
"You are a sad, strange little man, Max," he informed him, resting his head on the blond's shoulder.
"Yeah…" Max agreed distractedly, once again picking through the box of Animal Crackers. "But y'know what's really sad?"
"What's that, luv?" he asked.
Max held up a cookie shaped like a chimpanzee and blinked at him.
"I did all of that…and I was completely sober."
۞۞۞
Note: The reason they're called Animal Crackers is because they're made like crackers, that is, with layered dough. The fact they're sweetened, however, gives them the taste and consistency similar to cookies. In any case, I'm inclined to agree with Max in that they would be disgusting in soup.
Also, sorry for that this wasn't full-blown slash, but hopefully there was at least enough boy-love to make it cute. :)
Disclaimer: You guys know the drill: I own nothing. Max is his own man, Jude is his bitch (especially now after giving him his cookies), and Shirley Temple, Animal Crackers, and the song "Animal Crackers in My Soup" do not belong to me either. That said, kindly review!