I'm supposed to be finishing my other one-shot but, I needed a break and well... I have no idea what the heck happened. This is what I have to show for it, though. A short, silly story. Silly being the word of the moment. Just blame Del Boy and Rodney, I've been watching them all day and I think Only Fools and Horses has to be the funniest program EVER.
No, I have no idea why I'm rambling about the Trotter's either...
I'm still waiting for my kidnapping accomplice to finalize are Hugh Jackman plans. We'll only going to borrow him for a few days, torture him with feathers, play dress up with handcuffs, leather jackets and wife-beaters and partake in vodka games. Then before we release him back into the wild, we'll read him our beautiful poem (Once it's written) and beg for parts in Wolverine 2. It will work. Trust me, it will.
Real Men Eat Beans
Logan's bowels groaned and his upper lip curled into a snarl. This was torture; make no bones about it. His one hundred dollar Levi's were done for, he just knew it. This was a sad, and slightly depressing end to their time together. He'd bought them fifteen years ago, worn them, washed them, even ironed the fucking things, and now the time had come to say goodbye.
They were his favourite pair of jeans, too. He had first met Marie while wearing them, he had first kissed Marie while wearing them, and he had first fucked Marie while wearing them. Okay, so the latter was not strictly true. They had been bunched around his ankles at the time, and as a result he'd almost broken his neck after falling down the stairs, but it'd been another adventure for him and his tired denims.
Now the time had come to part ways and he almost had a tear in his eye.
"Logan, are you still hungry?"
He would never be hungry again. His bowels were doing a merry fucking tap dance around his God damn intestines. And his stomach? Shit, that would be half way to Hawaii by now in search of sand, sea and scotch. If he left now, he might be able to catch up with it.
A smarting spasm attacked his abdomen, instantly followed by a honking great serving of flatulence. He grumbled under his breath and attempted to cough over the deafening sound.
Marie glanced over her shoulder, and clicked her tongue at him. "I really don't know what's come over you lately." She told him, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "This is supposed to be a romantic weekend away and you're dropping bombs left, right, and centre." Waving a paper plate around, she scooted further towards the camp fire. "And frankly, you stink, Logan."
She was right; he did fucking stink. Jesus Christ, he was glad they were the only two in a ten mile radius, or he'd be living the rest of his days out in San Quentin, for polluting, poisoning and polishing off the general population.
He refused to dignify that with a response, only growled at the back of her head not quite daring to bare his canines in her face. The last time he had done that, his girl had hit him with a frying pan and withdrawn her offer of shower sex. That had possibly been the worse day of his life, he really had been looking forward to playing with her soapy breasts.
Watching Marie with said frying pan, he crossed his legs and whined in an extremely manly manner becoming to the king of the cage. This shit was going to be the fucking death of him, and talking about shit…
"Logan, there is no way I'm sharing a tent with you tonight. I'd be gassed and there's no window. My hair would curl and you'd strip the nail polish from my fingers."
He preferred her nails au naturel anyway. It didn't exactly fill him with delight when she dug her pink, sparkly, glittery splattered nails into his back, and licked his earlobe. His life was a fucking mission at times, and it was all Marie's fault.
"Okay, desserts ready." She called to him, crawling over and shoving the still spitting pan under his nose.
What the hell was she trying to do, blind him as well? She had already stripped away his manhood, given him a case of irritable bowel syndrome and the worse was yet to come. He couldn't do this anymore, he wanted to jump on his bike and head for the border, but he was minutes away from blowing a whopping hole clean through the seat of his Levi's.
He tugged down his battered, black cowboy hat in an attempt to shield his eyes. His stomach turned, the nausea climbed up his oesophagus and he could have sworn that his ass had developed a throbbing pulse.
"None for me, darlin', my guts are playin' me up." He grunted through gritted teeth, gently tapping his grousing spare tire.
"But, I've spent ages frying this."
He arched an eyebrow and began to tap his fingers against his thigh. It was almost time to say adios to his denims and he would probably lose every single organ in the process. "I can't, for fuck sake."
Marie gasped and poked him sharply in the side. "This is top grade tofu and you, you've been eating the X-Men out of house and home! Why do you think you've put on so much weight?"
Logan struggled to stand up, holding a hand under his ass in case a lung shot out. "That fuckin' crap you've been feedin' me the past week has done what Sabretooth failed to do in ten fuckin' years!" He bellowed, tripping over the fire wood and narrowly missing the chance to re-enact Joan of Arcs departure from this very world.
"Oh, and what's that?"
"KILL ME!"
It was the end of the road, his life flashed before his eyes and he hopped passed their tent, kicking a rucksack full of tofu as he went. He was brimming with high hopes when they had left the mansion, it was going to be special weekend and he was going to get laid. She was going to pop her sex-in-a-tent-in-the-middle-of-nowhere cherry, and he was going to be the one to teach her a few new moves.
"These are only soybeans, they're healthy, full of protein and you're going to carry on eating this until you're fit and healthy." He heard Marie snap in that ridiculous warning voice of hers.
Logan stopped, Logan snorted and Logan couldn't stand still for long. "I was healthy before all this Vegetarian, holy, Vegan, meat is the mother- fuckin' devil's Viagra bullshit was rammed down your throat, darlin'."
"Pfft, I bet you were just farting hooves and rainbows, weren't you?"
"It was a hell of a lot better then this damn toxic stench. You any idea what it's doin' to my nose?"
His time had run out and he crashed through the forest, shredding any branches, bushes or trees that stood in his way with his claws. Diving into a perfectly formed bush, he fought against time to unbuckle his belt, and cursed the asshole that invented tofu. Maybe Sabretooth had brainwashed his Marie? She always liked steak, hell, she'd seen, touched and drooled over his piece of Sirloin.
Fuck this shit, from now on, it's baked beans all the way for the Wolverine. I'm a real man, and real men eat beans out of a can and with a spoon… Aw, damn it!