So here's a ficlet I wrote for Don'tBeAZombie with her favourite pairing Johnny/Sulley! She's really awesome and has been getting me writing in impossibly long all-nighters and is a horrible influence on my already crappy sleep schedule due to "Time Zone Differences" bullfart.

I didn't really edit this one because, well, she was harassing me and at 3:30 in the morning I really don't have much will power. I really do know how to conjugate so don't judge me because I'm only half perfect.

"...So then I said, 'Hanger?! I barely know her!'"

Slouched over in his seat, Johnny smirked at the crude joke and popped another handful of Skittles into his mouth. Great, he thought as the theatre erupted in raucous laughter that seemed to take way too much enjoyment out of the most overused punchline in the history of Ever- at least for a theatre full of ostensibly educated young adults such as himself.

At the very core of the mindless laugh-track was the brute sitting next to him. Also known as his soon-to-be-ex-if-he-keeps-dragging-them-to-these-damn-movies-boyfriend. Or James P. Sullivan for short.

A sharp elbow jabbed hard into his bicep. "Hahahaa, this guy's a genius, John! It's like the Three Stooges meets Trailer Park Boys!"

"Hilarious," Johnny murmured and reached into Sulley's lap for the popcorn. Sulley jerked and nearly dropped the popcorn as he strained around the oversized sombrero sitting right smack dab in the middle of his view, which didn't detract from the movie's... vision? Goal? Mindlessness? Irritated, and with another hour to go, Johnny grabbed the popcorn and yanked it over the armrest.

"Babe, wait, you gotta see this part- Hey buddy mind if you take off the hat? This part's the greatest-"

Johnny glared over the rim of his ridiculously overpriced (though not for a Worthington, mind you) soda; "You mean you've seen this cinematic trash before?"

A shrug and sulley scooted to the edge of his seat, completely set on not missing this unfolding masterpiece before him. "Once or twice, maybe."

"So you dragged me here to- excuse me but I have the sudden urge to go throw up out of shame."

"Ex-CUSE me, me amigo," the sombrero snarled, "But I'm trying to watch this movie."

Johnny scoffed and tried his best to make the indignant eyeroll as loud as physically possible. "Oh please. That accent is fake and your hat is cheap styrofoam-"

"Johnny wait, you're going to miss the best part!" Sulley hissed and reached out to grab the other monster's arm and anchor his poor unsullied mind to the overstuffed theatre seat. "They're totally about to- just sit down, will you?" With a firm tug Johnny clambered back into his seat. Skittles showered the floor. Sulley cringed with the excitement no grown man should ever experience in the presence of a B-list production and a sombrero.

And then Johnny froze. "Shit," he murmured, "You've got to be kidding me."

"There it is... BAHAHAHAA, oh man that was fantastic! Tell me you didn't miss that, I can't rewind this-"

In a flash Johnny reached into his sweater pocket and yanked out his phone to flash the light of his screen onto his lap to see- "Oh god, Sull!"

Sulley chuckled at yet another farting vigilante cop making a joke of the law and turned to Johnny in time to see in the dim light the outlines of slimy popcorn butter all over... the legs of Johnny's white pants. "Oh boy."

Johnny remembered the thick stack of napkins Sulley had pilfered 'just in case' as they passed the butter station. They were right beneath the handful of straws also in case of emergency in the space between them- "Where are the napkins, Sulley?"

"They must have fallen through the crack between the seats..." Sulley ventured and pointedly peered into the black void where the napkins were sure to never return from unless in the housekeeper's pale. "I don't know what I can do."

"Get them!" Johnny hissed "Get them or I swear I will skin you alive and wear you out of this theatre!"

Sulley looked from Johnny down to his lap, to the screen for a quick reference, and then back to Johnny. He looked scared. "John, it's fine. Look, it's just a little butter it's not the end of the world; I'm sure it'll wash right out!"

"These pants are Vicuna, Sulley!"

"I don't know what that means, John! And why would you wear fancy pants to see a movie?!"

"Hey, yo, can it!" Sombrero snapped, turning around in his seat to glare at Sulley's hand on Johnny's lap. "If you ain't gonna watch the movie then get out!"

"We're discussing a real fashion emergency, Homes, unless you want me to burn that hideous thing off your head I suggest you turn around and stuff it!" And so ended the heroism of the great sombrero.

"Sulley, lick the butter off."

"I'm not going to do that... in a theatre."

"Yes you will, you'll lick this butter off right now or I swear to God- WHAT?!"

It turned out that Johnny's sense of time and estimation of the great art of film-script pacing was misinformed; the house lights went up and the audience sluggishly rose to their feet, the ritual of reciting every momentous quote distracted most from the grown monster just moments from a complete meltdown.

"Okay John, I have a plan. Follow my lead."

"WOOOOOO! Watch out, here we come!"

Flying down the busy hall of the university theatre Sulley swerved around corners, dodged amorous couples, and slammed through every quizzical glance as he soared through the building and across the parking lot in record time.

All with a very red looking Johnny riding piggyback.