Title: Banging
Summary: You're writing? Shiiitttt….
Rating: Teen (Yes it is)
Archive: Yes (hahahaha)
Author's Note: Is it bad for the understudy to have had dreams of slipping onion powder into her coworker's food so she could have one show due to an onion allergy? God, I know it's bad when at the end of the show the director thanks me for being "professional throughout the whole thing." Regretting something? Well, it's done and over and I should write now.
Chapter Eleven
Crouching in the white snow with his body doubled over, the Tin Woodsman pressed his forehead against the side of Dorothy's fallen house. His body shook with effort to maintain the position, but he didn't move from his place. One hand was splayed out across the splintered wood. His body shuddered once more before his knees sank into the snow beneath…
"Are you writing? Jesus, it's been ages!"
"Thanks for you words of encouragement."
"No need to be snippy about it."
"Nessa, I'm about to get snippy with my foot up your crippled ass."
"It's not nice to hurt the handicapped."
"Handicapped people can be dumb asses too. I don't discriminate."
"What's wrong with you?"
"Exams."
"Ah. How are they going?"
"Splendid. I've had Government US, Government Comparative, Calculus BC, English Literature and European History. Next week is Biology, Physics C and Psychology. It will be blast."
"Don't you like those classes?"
"Yes, but I do not like writing six essays, six open responses, three essays, and three essays in five days. I did write about Candide though."
"Was it fun?"
"I have a new philosophy."
"Is it 'be nice to the girl in the wheelchair'?"
"No. It's 'we live in the mediocre of all mediocre worlds'."
"Oh. Is the glass of water half full then?"
"Nope. It's just a glass of Diet Coke."
"That makes no sense."
"I'm impassive about Diet Coke."
"Hhhmmm…Well, have fun writing."
"Right."
-TBC-
That's basically my thought process. It's not even funny any more.
