Part 2 of Kill a Tree... ^^;;; there will be a part 3.... no.. I take that back.. there might be a
part 3.... currently titled Kill a Human. humm... maybe this should be titled To Kill... Kill
sounds so commanding... humm.. I cut and pasted a section of the draft for Kill a Tree
here as dialogue... the part I posted in the last nomination list.. .;;
Burn a Dead Fish is more appropriate... humm..... as always, a confusing attempt at
humor... no caffine this time.. *_________* which also means its not very humorous...
*sigh...
Murphy's Law applies here. Very OOC.. ^^;;;
Standard disclaimers apply.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kill a Dinosaur
by Rubie aka Jenn
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Can I P-L-E-A-S-E have my credit card back?" the customer hissed through his front
teeth.
The girl smiled condescendingly, "I don't know, can you? Are you capable?"
The boy fumed quietly. "MAY I have my credit card back?"
"Mmn, I don't know yet," Hitomi said with a sly smile. Her eyes drifted over to the
window. "Is that your car out there? It looks really expensive; is it new?"
The boy just glared.
"Your family must be pretty rich. Care for a donation?"
"No," he hissed. His front teeth were beginning to hurt from the grinding of his jaws.
"Not even to an under fed, under paid psychology major?" the girl whined.
Silence.
Allen patted the customer's shoulder reassuringly. "All psychology majors are all," he
tapped his head, "you know. It won't do too much good if you sue."
Allen yelped as a fist was forced obtrusively into his shoulder.
"It's an impressive car," Hitomi continued, patting her hand calmly, "Did you just kill a
dinosaur?"
The customer suddenly had a coughing fit.
"Its more accurate to say, are you planing to burn some dead fish," Allen mumbled, as he
steadied himself with the magazine stand. He readjusted the plastic armor under his shirt
carefully. The customer silently wondered how often the girl suffered from moodswings.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Schezar whose dad should be a Mormon, I'm not some science major,"
the girl glared.
"Anyone would know that petroleum is made from dead marine life. We only burn some
extinct pachycephalosaurs in a barbecue. I'm sorry, you're just slow," Allen patted the
girl's head condescendingly.
"You're invading my personal space."
"So are you going to sue?"
"Only if your dad doesn't fire me first. I need money to pay the lawyer."
"Give me my credit card back," the boy mumbled, his voice laced with salt and pepper.
A hand extrudingly patted his head. "For situations like these, I recommend chocolate,"
Allen said with a sympathetic smile. "And good life insurance. I always double check
since I have to share my night shift with PMSing women."
"You son of a -" Hitomi began.
"See what I mean?" Allen sighed.
"Don't even start." Hitomi fumbled for an implement of war.
"Take your hand off my head," the boy threatened.
"Give me fifteen seconds to get to the pay phone and call the police first," Allen teased.
"Take your hand off my he -" the boy repeated, but was unhappily interrupted by a
shower of hamburger buns. They bounced lightly off the walls, and one logged between
his shoulder and chin.
He already paid for that.
But before he could protest, a handful of MilkyWay bars suddenly found themselves on
his face. Then twinkies. Then... lubricants? He could have sworn he didn't add that in his
shopping bag.
Behind him, Allen was skillfully dodging the poorly aimed accessories. The girl followed
with a string of politically incorrect words as she groped around in his grocery bag. Her
hand fixed itself on an item and began rapidly unscrewing a bottle of something he could
not quite identify. The customer could feel his eyes bulge.
"No! Wait!!" He jumped at the girl in a desperate attempt to stop her.
A creamy mist of fat free milk sprayed into the air as the jade eyed girl unceremoniously
flung the gallon bottle.
Silence.
The boy could feel the sticky fluid run down his shirt collar. His usually loose white shirt
was beginning to clung to his back. He silently hoped that his pants were not in the same
state.
"Oops..." Hitomi whispered, a hand to her mouth.
Then a sniff.
Was she crying?
Choke.
Stiffened cough.
Then he realized she was desperately trying not to laugh. He scowled at her bitterly.
"I'm sorry," her words were broken with suppressed laughter. "Here, you can have your
credit card back."
He eyed the olive branch wearily, then returned to glare at her. Hitomi smiled guilty.
"I'm sorry. I really am. You can have a refund too. I'll pay, but you're paying for my
lunch tomorrow 'cause that money was being saved for my groceries."
Behind him, Allen coughed forcefully. The boy continued to stare silently.
"I'm sorry! I can blow dry your clothes with my hair drier too. I'm sorry, Mr. -," she
glanced at the signature on the credit card briefly. "Mr. Van Fanel," she said quickly with
an disturbingly sweet smile.
A pause. "Fanel? Are you by any chance related to Professor Folken Fanel?"
"My brother," the boy whispered hoarsely.
Her smile dropped like lead from her face.
Silence.
And the neon sign buzzed languidly outside the window.
End of part 2
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*sigh... this wasn't as good as Kill a Tree... it was even more confusing... well... draft
version... humm.... Any comments, questions, or concerns welcome! This fic is in
desperate need of improvement. urg... writers block... urgggggggggggg...
Tried to cut down on the descriptions... attempted a causal and everyday mood ... tried a
different style, but it seemed like a disaster.. urgggg.. what do you think?
part 3.... currently titled Kill a Human. humm... maybe this should be titled To Kill... Kill
sounds so commanding... humm.. I cut and pasted a section of the draft for Kill a Tree
here as dialogue... the part I posted in the last nomination list.. .;;
Burn a Dead Fish is more appropriate... humm..... as always, a confusing attempt at
humor... no caffine this time.. *_________* which also means its not very humorous...
*sigh...
Murphy's Law applies here. Very OOC.. ^^;;;
Standard disclaimers apply.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kill a Dinosaur
by Rubie aka Jenn
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Can I P-L-E-A-S-E have my credit card back?" the customer hissed through his front
teeth.
The girl smiled condescendingly, "I don't know, can you? Are you capable?"
The boy fumed quietly. "MAY I have my credit card back?"
"Mmn, I don't know yet," Hitomi said with a sly smile. Her eyes drifted over to the
window. "Is that your car out there? It looks really expensive; is it new?"
The boy just glared.
"Your family must be pretty rich. Care for a donation?"
"No," he hissed. His front teeth were beginning to hurt from the grinding of his jaws.
"Not even to an under fed, under paid psychology major?" the girl whined.
Silence.
Allen patted the customer's shoulder reassuringly. "All psychology majors are all," he
tapped his head, "you know. It won't do too much good if you sue."
Allen yelped as a fist was forced obtrusively into his shoulder.
"It's an impressive car," Hitomi continued, patting her hand calmly, "Did you just kill a
dinosaur?"
The customer suddenly had a coughing fit.
"Its more accurate to say, are you planing to burn some dead fish," Allen mumbled, as he
steadied himself with the magazine stand. He readjusted the plastic armor under his shirt
carefully. The customer silently wondered how often the girl suffered from moodswings.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Schezar whose dad should be a Mormon, I'm not some science major,"
the girl glared.
"Anyone would know that petroleum is made from dead marine life. We only burn some
extinct pachycephalosaurs in a barbecue. I'm sorry, you're just slow," Allen patted the
girl's head condescendingly.
"You're invading my personal space."
"So are you going to sue?"
"Only if your dad doesn't fire me first. I need money to pay the lawyer."
"Give me my credit card back," the boy mumbled, his voice laced with salt and pepper.
A hand extrudingly patted his head. "For situations like these, I recommend chocolate,"
Allen said with a sympathetic smile. "And good life insurance. I always double check
since I have to share my night shift with PMSing women."
"You son of a -" Hitomi began.
"See what I mean?" Allen sighed.
"Don't even start." Hitomi fumbled for an implement of war.
"Take your hand off my head," the boy threatened.
"Give me fifteen seconds to get to the pay phone and call the police first," Allen teased.
"Take your hand off my he -" the boy repeated, but was unhappily interrupted by a
shower of hamburger buns. They bounced lightly off the walls, and one logged between
his shoulder and chin.
He already paid for that.
But before he could protest, a handful of MilkyWay bars suddenly found themselves on
his face. Then twinkies. Then... lubricants? He could have sworn he didn't add that in his
shopping bag.
Behind him, Allen was skillfully dodging the poorly aimed accessories. The girl followed
with a string of politically incorrect words as she groped around in his grocery bag. Her
hand fixed itself on an item and began rapidly unscrewing a bottle of something he could
not quite identify. The customer could feel his eyes bulge.
"No! Wait!!" He jumped at the girl in a desperate attempt to stop her.
A creamy mist of fat free milk sprayed into the air as the jade eyed girl unceremoniously
flung the gallon bottle.
Silence.
The boy could feel the sticky fluid run down his shirt collar. His usually loose white shirt
was beginning to clung to his back. He silently hoped that his pants were not in the same
state.
"Oops..." Hitomi whispered, a hand to her mouth.
Then a sniff.
Was she crying?
Choke.
Stiffened cough.
Then he realized she was desperately trying not to laugh. He scowled at her bitterly.
"I'm sorry," her words were broken with suppressed laughter. "Here, you can have your
credit card back."
He eyed the olive branch wearily, then returned to glare at her. Hitomi smiled guilty.
"I'm sorry. I really am. You can have a refund too. I'll pay, but you're paying for my
lunch tomorrow 'cause that money was being saved for my groceries."
Behind him, Allen coughed forcefully. The boy continued to stare silently.
"I'm sorry! I can blow dry your clothes with my hair drier too. I'm sorry, Mr. -," she
glanced at the signature on the credit card briefly. "Mr. Van Fanel," she said quickly with
an disturbingly sweet smile.
A pause. "Fanel? Are you by any chance related to Professor Folken Fanel?"
"My brother," the boy whispered hoarsely.
Her smile dropped like lead from her face.
Silence.
And the neon sign buzzed languidly outside the window.
End of part 2
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*sigh... this wasn't as good as Kill a Tree... it was even more confusing... well... draft
version... humm.... Any comments, questions, or concerns welcome! This fic is in
desperate need of improvement. urg... writers block... urgggggggggggg...
Tried to cut down on the descriptions... attempted a causal and everyday mood ... tried a
different style, but it seemed like a disaster.. urgggg.. what do you think?
