"I spy with my eye, something that begins with B," Ghost says as he takes a seat beside Roach on the couch in the lounge room and gazes emptily into space.
"Bookshelf," the Sergeant answers monotonously.
"Yeah," Ghost says, dull and uninterested.
"I spy with my eye, something that begins with T."
"Table."
"Yep," Roach says. "Bugger."
Ghost gives him a playful smile. "Gay?"
"What?" Roach asks.
"Anal sex?" Ghost asks again.
Roach's ears and cheeks turns seven different kinds of crimson.
"You said bugger," Ghost points out, apparently teasing him.
"That doesn't mean anything!" the Sergeant protests.
His superior laughs, whistles and says, "I need a fag."
Meat, who all along has been sitting at the opposite end of the room, gets up, slams his magazine down on the low table and points an accusing finger at his two colleagues. "I thought you pricks were real men!" he says.
At this Roach tries to become a chameleon by blending in with the couch, while Ghost takes a second to be stunned before bursting into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, smacking his knees, the couch itself and Roach on the shoulder.
"No, Meat, it's," Ghost wheezes between his laughing spasms, "it's a Brit slang! Bugger means taking it up the arse, fag means a cigarette!"
Awkward silence follows. Now it's Meat's turn to have his face burn up.
"Whatever, talk about a sheep fucker!" he retorts.
Unfortunately for Meat, things are about to get worse. At the same precise second that sentence tumbled out of his mouth, their Captain entered the room. Meat realises his mistake and gawks at him. Ghost relapses into his wheezing, coughing laughter while Roach now wishes, more than ever, that he could disappear or turn into a pretty butterfly and fucking fly out of the room of death.
Author's Note; Yeah, if you didn't already know about British slang and stereotypes...now's a good time. Question to everyone – should I try to write more bromantic stories? Yay or nay or trololo?
Also, misleading description, eh? You must've expected something else. Oh, you.