Disclaimer: I don't own Shel Silverstein or his poems.

I'm going to New Jersey. My grandfather's in the hospital. No, I do not want to talk about it. Yes, I have been having a whole bunch of bad things all happening at once. If I'm lucky, it should all be over soon and I'll have good fortune for quite some time. :D

You'll Never Get It

Ash was quite thrilled, shoving food down his throat. Misty sat across from him, idly closed her eyes and muttered, "You remind me of a poem, I think it was by Shel Silverstein, though I could be wrong. It was about this boy that ate a lot. He ate and he ate and he ate, and then they ran out of food. So he ate her parents. Then he ate his house. Then he ate a country, the continents, the oceans, the planet, the universe, and then he ate himself. All that was left of him was a pair of gnashing, mashing teeth in the big abyss about him. And he never dies. He's hungry forever and gnashes his teeth."

She opened her eyes to see Ramen noodles, Ash's fourth course in a meal that seemed to never end, dangling limply from his open mouth, eyes with horror. The redhead mused on whether or not she should explain to him that it was only a poem, and if you ate yourself, if you could even find a way, you'd be sure to die. Then, deciding that it was all to amusing, she closed her eyes and let him work it all out for himself.

"If you are a dreamer come in," he said finally, swallowing his noodles.

She smiled sleepily. "If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a hoper, a prayer, a magic-bean-buyer."

"If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire, for we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in!" he finished, grinning at her as she opened her eyes. "My mom used to read that to me when I was little. I don't like poetry too much, but I remembered that one. It was fun. She talked about how it was like being a pokémon trainer. I liked that. Hate poetry. I think it's fun to rhyme and all, but I hate poetry. Too annoying, and people get mad if you don't interpret it their way."

"Rick was "L", but he's home with the flu, Lizzie, our "O", had some homework to do, Mitchell, "E" prob'ly got lost on the way, So I'm all of the love that could make it today," she chimed. "That was on the Valentine of my first boyfriend. Technically husband. We were in first grade, he cut it out of a book, my sisters insisted we get married. First kiss too, if you wanted to think that way. I like to think it was a real kiss, a lot more fun than my first real kiss."

She sat up suddenly, looking at the clock, but her voice was smooth, "I should be getting out of here by now. The gym needs me."

"It does," he agreed. He slid a bowl of ice cream her way, and went to town on his.

"How many days have I been here, doing nothing, just talking with you?"

He shrugged. "Can't remember."

She glared at the clock curiously. "How long has it been six?"

"A few days now."

She blinked for a moment, then nodded, thinking this perfectly logical, and began to eat her ice cream.


Moral of the Story: Plot, dammit. Not even crack!fic, not fluff, put in a gosh darn plot. If it's a drabble collection, awesome. Otherwise, what's the point? I've read pages upon page of…well, nothing. There's nothing. It's this. Completely random, pointless. I don't want to read seven pages of the character's favorite color. Because, even though I actually got caught up in this and could have used this as character development (you have no idea how hard it was to resist character insight urges), there are people who write pages and pages of things even more dull than this. "Ash likes pumpkins. Misty likes water. Bob likes crackers." Please, just…do something? Please? The majority of the Pokémon show is filler, and yet something is always happening. Plot.

Rant
GAH! –spazzes- Okay, am I the only one on this site that doesn't shower undeserving authors with insane proclamations of love? An author, no names mentioned, but an author I don't even read but skim keeps putting out total and complete random crap that's way, way worse than most stuff they put on. What happens? Mindless. Love. Showers. See, I like my reviewers. My reviewers tend to be intelligent. Pretty much every reviewers (constant reviewer) I've had has pointed out a mistake I've made at some point. They've told me that certain pieces of work are not my best. If I post crap, I'll get crap from my reviewers. Meanwhile, this ass doesn't even bother writing proper summaries, and if you give this self centered jerk criticism he freakin' ignores it and doesn't even bother to reply, probably not reading your damn review because said author it a self centered ass.

Ahem, rant over.