Paper Cut
A fan fiction by LM Simpson
Disclaimer: (whines) DOIHAVETOSTATETHEOBVIOUS?
LM Simpson's tidbits (A/N): (throws toast to AB Victorina) Thanks for the review!
Sorry the long delay; I've just been having mighty writers block for most of my current fanfiction projects lately. From this fic on, however, this collection will be rated T because some of the subject matter of the prompts isn't actually G-rated. Apart from the fact that there is almost no fic for ZobxGreta, one of the reasons I chose the pairing for this challenge was due to some of the prompts, like this one: "I want to know how you slept with him, the way you held him. Every crevice through which my shadow may ink itself. The more I tell you of my happiness, the more unhappy I am. That you are not a part of it, that you do not covet it for yourself." Yep, this is definitely a more pairing focuses challenge… LOL
The following drabble is an extended version of one of the drabbles in my Little Moments drabble collection (the one where Zob is reading a porno), by the way, so some of that prose is going to be present towards the end…
Enjoy!
Theme Thirty-Three: This is how your desire tangles with a desired one
0000
Ever feel that men and women are so different, that they can be called different species? Men and women have their own clothes, magazines, bathrooms, even body shape. Such differences can lead to some very nasty battles of the sexes. This is one such story.
Meet Zobedja Zick, species Homo sapiens sapiens maliens, and his lovely wife Greta Barrymore, species Homo sapiens sapiens femaliens. Normally, they're a wonderful couple, with a son to boot. But when it comes to a particular difference between their gender's items, not everything is fine and merry…
0000
"Greta!" Zob yelled as she walked out of the house and towards a trash can with a bundle in her arms. "Please don't do this!"
"Sorry, Zob, but I warned you a million times, I've talked with you about this, and every single time has been in vain. They have got to go!"
She opened the container and dumped the magazines into it. Then, she reached into her pocket, removed a matchbox, placed a matchstick near the strike side, and…
"Please, Greta, don—"
Too late—she dropped the match into the can, and flame spread on everything; ash occasionally flew away in the air as Zob followed her to the house.
"Y'know," he said, "I don't try to burn your Cosmos and Good Housekeepings, Greta…"
"True, but unlike you, I'm not so obsessed with them that I lock myself in the bathroom to do nothing but look at absolute trash. Let's face it, Zob—you're addicted."
"No, I'm not."
"Ooooh, yes you are! You just don't want to admit it, that's all…"
Unamused, Zob split from Greta by taking the stairs to their room.
0000
"Hey, Terrence?" Zob said on the phone a while later, "You know that… 'collection' you have?"
"The one with Playboy, Penthouse and a couple of those hardcore ones from 1970 to present? Yeah, 'course I do. Why are you asking?"
"Well… Do you mind if I borrow a couple of them?"
"Just a couple? Heck, you can have all of them!"
"All of them?!" Zob was incredulous. "Why all of them?"
The other end of the line was quiet as Terrence was remembering just why he was going to give Zob his entire collection…
It was the night before. While he was watching television upstairs, Joanna was upstairs trying to put Teddy to bed.
"Alright, honey," Joanna said, "what story do you want me to read to you tonight?"
Teddy pulled back the covers, dived under his bed, and came out with a magazine that was definitely not for little children. "I wanna know what this book Daddy was reading while he was waiting for me to sleep me is about, Mommy! Why does the lady have no clothes on?"
Mommy only stared in shock before shrieking, "TERRENCE! GET UP HERE AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF!"
After looking for a decent way to summarize the entire story, he only replied, "Long story…"
0000
The next day, the foyer was full of boxes and boxes of Terrence's magazines. Zob felt like he had hit the jackpot as he looked at the paper gold.
"Let's see… August 1991… September 1975… March 1986… December 1992…" He embraced the collection. "I love you, Terrence… Greta is especially not going to burn these issues…"
Zob got up. "Be right back," he said to the boxes, "I'm just going to hide these and figure out what to do with you guys…"
When he got back downstairs, however, he saw Greta at the door, looking down at the boxes and with Zick on her hip. "Zob… What is this?" she asked before crouching down and flipping one of the flaps of a box to examine the contents. Discovering the collection, her eyes were aflame with rage and she placed Zick on the floor, threw all of the boxes outside, and stormed out. Zob had no choice but to watch Greta strike a match and set his entire collection aflame once again.
Note to self- get a safe and hide it well! He thought as Greta came in and scooped Zick just before he got too close to the stairs.
0000
Zob found the safe just where he last left it, brought it to his room and hoped this was the right safe combination as he tired to open it; it had been ages since he last used it. It clicked, and he opened it. Bingo! They were exactly as they were the last time he saw them.
He took one out and blew the dust off the cover. December 1992. Slowly, he opened the magazine and chuckled. Well I'll be—I actually remember some of this stuff! Hmm, maybe I should try to buy the latest one when Greta isn't around…
Suddenly, he heard a sound: footsteps. And they were coming closer to his bedroom!
Zob panicked. What if Greta was coming? If she found out his little secret, she would take the stash away and trash it, or even worse, burn it like she did every time…
As the door opened, Zob pushed the safe's door into place and slid the issue under the bed.
It was Zick. "Mom and me can't find the spade. 'Got any idea where it is?"
"N-n-no," he replied before chuckling nervously.
Zick left the room. Feeling the coast was clear, Zob closed the door and resumed reading. He became so spellbound by the pictures, he did not realize Greta had come in until he heard her screech:
"ZOB! Is that what I think it is?"
His mouth was dry; he opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"Answer me, Zob!"
Zob tried again. This time, out came "Y-y-yes, Greta…"
"Give me that," she said. Defeated, Zob gave her the issue. "I want every single one too, Zob…"
"That is the only one!"
"Then just what's that safe? I've never seen it before in my entire life…"
And with that, the entire small stash of magazines went through the same ceremony the earlier issues underwent. Zob had to fight to pull himself together as Zick and he watched the flames and the occasional charred scrap flying out of the trash can.
"Come back in, Zob," Greta said as she tugged him on the arm. "You too, Zick…" Zick turned away from the remains of the inferno that had just occurred and gulped as he followed his parents back into the house.
THE END
A/N: Thanks for reading! I got a couple of others in progress, so until they're uploaded, have a good day!
Bye, y'all!
LM Simpson