More spoofiness! Only, now we're getting into the Hot, Gay Action! Only,
since I can't actually write Hot, Gay Action!, we're just going to allude
to it. Enjoy!
One month later:
Peter sat in front of the beat-up, flop-eared television, and chuckled as cartoon characters kept trying to kill each other in new and creative ways. "Wow, he'll never emotionally recover from that." He periodically drank some mustard out of the bottle, followed by a shot of vegetable oil.
He suddenly heard something stomping up the stairs, and turned his head just in time to neatly avoid a small-ish corpse from hitting him in the face. It instead struck the wall, where it slopped and slowly slid down, leaving little tid-bits behind.
"Now what's got you in a bad mood?" he asked.
"That, you may or may not recognize, was your little prank." Johnny glared and dropped into the seat next to him, making a face when he saw that Peter has been taking mustard and oil shots again. "I thought you had got bored and switched to honey and dirt."
"I switch on and off when I feel like it." Peter mused, staring into Johnny's face and thinking. "What little prank?"
Johnny sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair, Peter never remembered anything he did past a day. It was useless trying to get him to stay penitent.
"The Girl Scout? The one you hid somewhere in the house and I never found until today? And that's your fault, too-"
"What? That's my fault, too?" Peter put on his most hurt face.
Johnny leaned in and grinned, nose to nose. "Yeah, although I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to do it again."
Peter smiled, "First you're mad, and then horny? What a switch! When I first came- sex was the absolute last thing on your mind. Now, it's at least the second."
Johnny pouted. "And that's your fault, too! I went from a psycho murderer to a sex fiend. I don't know how farther down I can get."
Peter purred at him. "Oh, I know how low you can go." He put a hand on Johnny's shoulder and pushed him down toward a rather obvious destination.
Johnny went with the hand, but paused and looked up at him with a sardonic smile. "You do know that there are screams and giggles coming from the TV, and a rotting corpse splattered on the wall and spreading out on the floor right behind us?"
"Yes." Peter answered simply, and began to pant as Johnny worked his voodoo magic.
A dead body continued to decompose.
I laugh at you. And then I feel bad. But, still, I laughed.
One month later:
Peter sat in front of the beat-up, flop-eared television, and chuckled as cartoon characters kept trying to kill each other in new and creative ways. "Wow, he'll never emotionally recover from that." He periodically drank some mustard out of the bottle, followed by a shot of vegetable oil.
He suddenly heard something stomping up the stairs, and turned his head just in time to neatly avoid a small-ish corpse from hitting him in the face. It instead struck the wall, where it slopped and slowly slid down, leaving little tid-bits behind.
"Now what's got you in a bad mood?" he asked.
"That, you may or may not recognize, was your little prank." Johnny glared and dropped into the seat next to him, making a face when he saw that Peter has been taking mustard and oil shots again. "I thought you had got bored and switched to honey and dirt."
"I switch on and off when I feel like it." Peter mused, staring into Johnny's face and thinking. "What little prank?"
Johnny sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair, Peter never remembered anything he did past a day. It was useless trying to get him to stay penitent.
"The Girl Scout? The one you hid somewhere in the house and I never found until today? And that's your fault, too-"
"What? That's my fault, too?" Peter put on his most hurt face.
Johnny leaned in and grinned, nose to nose. "Yeah, although I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to do it again."
Peter smiled, "First you're mad, and then horny? What a switch! When I first came- sex was the absolute last thing on your mind. Now, it's at least the second."
Johnny pouted. "And that's your fault, too! I went from a psycho murderer to a sex fiend. I don't know how farther down I can get."
Peter purred at him. "Oh, I know how low you can go." He put a hand on Johnny's shoulder and pushed him down toward a rather obvious destination.
Johnny went with the hand, but paused and looked up at him with a sardonic smile. "You do know that there are screams and giggles coming from the TV, and a rotting corpse splattered on the wall and spreading out on the floor right behind us?"
"Yes." Peter answered simply, and began to pant as Johnny worked his voodoo magic.
A dead body continued to decompose.
I laugh at you. And then I feel bad. But, still, I laughed.
