"Dude, Poetry?"
"It's a song." York grabbed the piece of paper out of Wash's hands.
"About Carolina."
"Fuck off North."
"She won't like that." Wash remarked.
"Which is why you won't tell her." York told them. "Or I will break into your rooms and display your underwear in the Commons."
"As if you could actually break their locks." C.T. sat down with a steaming mug of coffee. "I have yet to see any of this great lock picking mastery in action. Also writing that in the dining hall is probably a bad idea. Just saying."
"Thank you, Connie." York looked at her pointedly.
"I want to read it." Maine held out his hand.
"It's private." York attempted.
"My mother was a poet."
"So?"
"I can tell you if it's any good or not."
Sighing York handed over the piece of paper. Maine was probably just going to laugh at him, but honestly? That was all the other were doing to him. If Wyoming was here he would have heard all about how writing songs about girls was a sign of a true man. And South would have called him a pansy. But luckily South was training with Carolina and Wyoming was probably waxing his moustache. Or practicing his knock-knock jokes.
"It's good." Maine handed the paper back. "It's just missing something. What is the first thing you think off when I say Carolina?"
"Beautiful."
"Badass."
"Self –absorbed."
"Obsessive."
"Perfectionist."
"Needs a drink."
"Princess Bitch Face." South walked in. "Wait, we're not sharing our nicknames for Miss I'm-The-Best-And-All-Should-Kneel-Before-Me?"
"Got it!" Wash excitedly grabbed the paper, wrote on it and gave it back.
"Wash that's not writing, that's chicken scratch!" York squinted.
"I can't even read that." North peered over York's shoulder. "I thought South's was bad."
"Oi!"
"You should have been a doctor." C.T looked at the sheet. "What the fuck does that say?"
"It says 'Why you always gotta be such a bitch?'" Wash answered.
"Points for accuracy I guess." C.T. admitted.
"Hey I can't exactly put something like that in a song about Carolina." York exclaimed.
"Oh really, what else are you gonna put? Oh sweet Carolina with eyes of emerald and the disposition of a swarm of angry bees?" South asked. "Wash's right, She's a hard-ass bitch."
"Shut the fuck up South."
"It does fit." Maine growled.
"There we are, I'm right, Carolina's a bitch. Let's go record this shit!"
"Wash, no!"
"I bags Bass." Wash continued. "North you can play guitar right? Maine, drums-"
"WASHINGTON!" York yelled. "We aren't doing this. Where would we getting these instruments from anyway?"
"Ugh the music room?"
"WE HAVE A MUSIC ROOM. AND NONE OF YOU ASSHOLES TOLD ME?"
"Seriously, have you even tried exploring this ship York?"