ROY'S BUSY BOWELS
He stood there, compound bow in hand, looking out into the distance. He didn't really care if people thought his facial expression mimicked that of constipation. After all, he was a killjoy. And a good one at that.
It just proved that he was the baddest badass in all history. And that he might actually be constipated. (But, you'll probably have to ask him about that. I don't like promoting propaganda.)
His auburn hair reflected the sun's dulling hue, and created a mixture of smoke and fire atop his head. No matter the expressions he exuded, he would not be Batman, and that scowl would only make his skin wrinkle even faster. But, nonetheless, he scowled. And smirked. And tried to rap. But really he's not to blame.
I mean, after all, he is Roy Harper.
…
Okay. Maybe Roy was constipated. Or his globe-trotting had screwed up his schedule so much he didn't even know when or where he should go. Sure, it enhanced his killjoy expression, but he didn't look forward to the consequences.
At all.
After all, his trip to Rhelasia would have to wait. This was a matter of urgency. Just before he set his compound bow down in the front of his apartment, his phone started vibrating.
With an audible sigh, Roy thought, Do not be Ollie. Do not be Ollie. Or else I'm shooting myself with that poison arrow.
When Roy picked up his phone he was both annoyed and relieved that the caller was not Ollie. It was Wally. Roy bringing up a finger to his temple, mimicking death by gun and thought What could Wally possibly want right now?
"Hello?" Roy answered in that voice. (You know. The voice that enunciates like there's an impending apocalypse. )
"Roy. Roy. Roy. Rooooy," Wally paused to gulp a breath in and started again, "You have to come to the cave. Like, right now."
Roy immediately picked up his compound bow, now in briefcase form, and his arms tensed. "What's going on?"
"Kaldur just made some chili. It's so good. You have to come." Roy was pretty sure he could hear Wally salivating.
Almost immediately, Roy's eyes transformed into tiny little slits as he heard Wally's sad excuse of a reason to come to the cave. Roy was pretty sure that he was going to hit Wally over the head, for making chili sound like the apocalypse.
"Seriously? You called me to tell me Kaldur made chili? I don't even think that's worth a text." Roy loosened grip on the quasi-briefcase and his expression went deadpan as soon as he opened up the door to the apartment.
"But-but. Roy. You have to. Please," Over the phone Wally feigned a sad excuse of crying. "For me?"
"For you?" Roy made an extremely uncharacteristic noise. A snort. "Who do you think you-" But then a light bulb flashed in Roy's mind.
Chili would probably be the perfect thing for his bowels. And there would probably be more variety of food then the stale packages of ramen in his apartment. Besides, Wally had raided all the quasi-healthy food in his apartment a week ago.
So, Roy agreed. But it wasn't for Wally.
It was for fiber.