Title:
Kitchup in Glass Bottles
Characters:
Xander
Summary:
Glass bottles equals bad.
Setting:
Pre-Buffy
Notes:
This is a silly fic came from depression and reading Saudi forums.
Disclaimer:
Belongs to Joss and co.
Warning:
Not beta-ed.
It was a Tuesday night. Kids crashing early, good teenagers studying for tomorrow's Algebra test, bad teenagers Bronzing it 'til school hours. Me? Well, I thought I'd happily sit before the house's humble TV screen with a bowl of French fries and a glass bottle of good old ketchup.
Opening the bottle cap, I took the bottle and tried to get some ketchuppy goodness on top of my French fries.
Nothing came out.
I shook the bottle gently… then roughly… no use.
I grabbed the bottle with both hands and held it upside-down 180 degree and shook it violently, but still no success. Then I tried hitting the bottle. Nothing. Zip. Nadda.
Now it became personal. I took the position of knife-stabbing. On my feet, hands holding the bottle upturned above my head, ready to kill.
Finally, the ketchup was out. Though a little out of control.
It went nowhere near the bowl. Let's take a few photographic pictures. Flash! Volla. The living room floor looked just like an episode of Law and Order with blood all over the floor. The walls got the best deal. It wasn't really that bad. Just look at the bright sight. There lied a masterpiece we rarely saw nowadays. If Picasso was alive, this would drive him to commit suicide.
A stunning piece of art where the blue color of the wall was beautifully mixed with the red color of the ketchup.
Even my parents were shocked to see such perfection. That was before the shouting began.
TV + Table + Furniture + Clothes All got their fair share. All but poor Mr. Bowl.
This was the last time mom took a glass bottle from the restaurant she worked in and actually started buying ketchup from the supermarket where they only sell those plastic squeezing bottles.
The End.