Pie, pie, pie. Let's see what I can scrape up at 4:30 in the morning. pie.
AHA! Heh heh heh. I have the perrrrrrrr-fect idea. Muauhahahahhahha! Now,
to write it. :D
Also. yes, I know that the station had a New Years' Party in my last IaHb fic, but just deal with it.
Disclaimer: I own squat- wait no. I own. ::counts:: like, fifteen or twenty CD's, including my treasured Linkin Park and Lifehouse CD's. I also have frappuchinos. and insomnia. so anyway.
**
"This pie is awful!" Val was humming Christmas carols to herself when she heard a voice behind her. She instantly recognized it as Tyler. "Who made this pie?"
It was the holiday party at the EMT station. Val was nervous. She had attempted to make pie- without the help of Caitie. It had turned out *looking* okay. However, judging by the annoyed expression on Tyler's face, it did not taste good. It probably did not even taste okay.
"Who made this pie?" Tyler asked, an enraged expression on his face. He didn't look like the Tyler who Val knew (and loved, heheh).
"Who made this pie?" He repeated again. Others joined in. "Who made this pie? This pie is awful! Who made this pie? This pie is awful! Who made this."
As they advanced on her, she backed into the Christmas tree, sending those little pine needle things and Christmas ornaments everywhere. She jumped away, running sideways and knocking over the Hannukah menorah in the process.
Seeing the expression on Val's face -one of terror and guilt- he said, "Was it you, Val? Did you make the pie?"
"Y-y-yes," She stuttered.
"It's awful! It's terrible! I hate you! You seemed so perfect, and then you made this awful pie." He said. "You're not the person I thought you were," he hissed, looking extremely angry. "I HATE YOU, VALER-"
BRIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tyler's tirade was interrupted by Val's alarm ringing. She had to get ready to go to the station.
Sitting up in bed, she pondered over her disturbing dream. "Hm. well, I always liked cake better."
*End*
Author's Note: Well, wasn't that interesting? I conjured this up in eight minutes at like four thirty in the morning. Yes, I know I have a habit of doing those dream stories, I did some others too, maybe not for IaHb.
Also. yes, I know that the station had a New Years' Party in my last IaHb fic, but just deal with it.
Disclaimer: I own squat- wait no. I own. ::counts:: like, fifteen or twenty CD's, including my treasured Linkin Park and Lifehouse CD's. I also have frappuchinos. and insomnia. so anyway.
**
"This pie is awful!" Val was humming Christmas carols to herself when she heard a voice behind her. She instantly recognized it as Tyler. "Who made this pie?"
It was the holiday party at the EMT station. Val was nervous. She had attempted to make pie- without the help of Caitie. It had turned out *looking* okay. However, judging by the annoyed expression on Tyler's face, it did not taste good. It probably did not even taste okay.
"Who made this pie?" Tyler asked, an enraged expression on his face. He didn't look like the Tyler who Val knew (and loved, heheh).
"Who made this pie?" He repeated again. Others joined in. "Who made this pie? This pie is awful! Who made this pie? This pie is awful! Who made this."
As they advanced on her, she backed into the Christmas tree, sending those little pine needle things and Christmas ornaments everywhere. She jumped away, running sideways and knocking over the Hannukah menorah in the process.
Seeing the expression on Val's face -one of terror and guilt- he said, "Was it you, Val? Did you make the pie?"
"Y-y-yes," She stuttered.
"It's awful! It's terrible! I hate you! You seemed so perfect, and then you made this awful pie." He said. "You're not the person I thought you were," he hissed, looking extremely angry. "I HATE YOU, VALER-"
BRIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tyler's tirade was interrupted by Val's alarm ringing. She had to get ready to go to the station.
Sitting up in bed, she pondered over her disturbing dream. "Hm. well, I always liked cake better."
*End*
Author's Note: Well, wasn't that interesting? I conjured this up in eight minutes at like four thirty in the morning. Yes, I know I have a habit of doing those dream stories, I did some others too, maybe not for IaHb.