Tank
Pairing: None
Summary: Because I always wondered . . . .
Disclaimer: If I owned this, I'd already know the answer to the question posed in this fic, now wouldn't I?
"I think it's time to blow this scene. Get every body and their stuff together. Alright? Well 3-2-1 let's ja–Huh?"
The silhouetted figure stood up from its 'ready to run' position and turned around. It stood there for a moment looking puzzled (or as puzzled as a silhouette can look any way) before cupping his hands to his mouth.
"YO, JET!"
Another blackened profile soon appears on screen, this one larger, balder and significantly more disgruntled. "What the hell Spike! You're holdin' up the entire opening credits sequence!"
The shorter of the 2 shadows (i.e. Spike) waves his hand in front of him to indicate the background. "What the heck is all that crazy writing back there about?"
The other shadow (Jet) turns to face the same direction Spike is indicating. He stops and stares for a while, confused, and tries to figure out what he's seeing. After a bit he shrugs to himself turns toward Spike.
"Fuck if I know." he then promptly smacks him on the back of the head "Now get back to work you lazy bum! You don't get paid to stand around and read."
Spike rubs his head and stick out his tongue as Jet disappears off screen "Alright, alright, sheesh. You grumpy old bastard"
-End-
. . . . . Don't even ask.