Chapter 4:
"Aquaduct Starwolves."
"Did you ever smell burnt hair in the morning? And if so, did you ever slap your head to make sure it wasn't you?"
- Leon Powalski
Pigma, Andrew, and Wolf were sitting in the booth farthest away from the door in Rosie's diner. They were busy shoveling down their food while trying not to look conspicuous (though if I saw a monkey, a wolf, and a pig all sitting down at a table I'm sure I'd want my anti-psychotic dose kicked up a notch.) Andrew let out a large belch, and got back to a point of conversation he had been droning on for quite some time.
"Billy's Battle" he said matter-of-factly, "is all about the author's fascination with torture. The whole story really is nothing more than one, big, torture scene."
Pigma snorted. "No it's not. It's about the main character who has never really seen any combat at first hand, and then he gets captured and-"
"Whoa whoa! Time out truffles- tell that crap to his mother."
Meanwhile, Wolf, who was sitting across from them, was scratching his head and looking at a scrap of paper he had found in the pocket of his brown overcoat.
"Benny ... who the fark is Benny?" he muttered. "Benny ... Benny ... think ... Benny ... "
Andrew didn't pay attention, but kept going.
"It's not about the coming of age of the main character. Now granted that's what "Warmth in a Cold Spleen" is about, no argument about that.
Pigma cocked his head to the side. "Which one is "Warmth in a Cold Spleen?"
"You don't remember "Warmth in a Cold Spleen?" That was a real big one for K. Wolfmann. Hell, I don't even follow this Most Reviewed Fic crap, and I've at least heard of "Warmth in a Cold Spleen."
"Look jerk," snapped Pigma, jutting his finger at Andrew. "I didn't say I ain't read it. All I asked was how does it go? Excuse me for not being the system's biggest K. Wolfmann fan."
Wolf now had managed to start chewing on his pen, and between chomping on that and reading the paper he added "I like his early stuff. You know, "Grey Poupon's Arrival," "Grey Poupon's Arrival II," but once he got into his "Reflections of a Heretic" phase, I don't know, I tuned out.
Andrew grimmaced at his leader. "Hey, screw that. I'm making a point here. You're gonna make me lose my train of thought."
Wolf didn't answer back, but muttered: "Oh crap, Benny's that dipstick Papetoonian ..."
"What's that?" asked Pigma with a mouthful of pork chop.
"I found this scrap in my pocket, I haven't seen this in a good long while. Benny what? What was his last name?" Wolf went back to scratching his head, and chewing his pen.
"Where was I?" said Andrew aloud.
Pigma looked back over his shoulder. "You said "Warmth in a Cold Spleen" was a coming of age story, but "Billy's Battle" was just an overglorified torture scene."
"Let me tell ya what "Billy's Battle's" about. It's about some scass who's a regular murder machine. I mean all the time, morning, day, night, afternoon, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death.
"How much death is that?"
Wolf added his input again. "A lot."
Andrew nodded, and then turned back to Dengar. "Then one day he gets his hands on a real mofo, and it's like whoa momma! This jerk is a real pushover, he makes Pee=Wee herman look like a serious competitor. Now he's getting this serious maim action, he's feelin' something he ain't felt forever. An actual fic he's gonna get replies to."
Wolf muttered to himself again. "Drew? Benny Drew? No."
"It's good. It's a real eye catcher. It shouldn't be, this sorta thing is the kinda thing people turn away from, but when it's done and everything's splattered here and you, it sells. It sells like a real mofo. The great popularity is a real conquest of sorts. Hence, "Billy's Battle."
"Wong?"
Andrew again snapped at his leader, nearly throwing the napkin dispenser at him. "Screw you, wrong. I'm right! What do you know about it anyway? You're still reading Leopard-Freakin'-Lancaster."
Wolf snapped back "Not wrong, dipstick. Wong! You know, like the Papetoonian name?"
Pigma shook his head and snatched the piece of paper from O'Donnell's hand. Wolf glared, his mouth hanging open slightly.
"What d'you think you're doin'?!" he shouted. "Give that back!"
Pigma just growled, looking at the scrap. "I'm sick of freakin' hearin' it, Wolf. I'll give it back when we leave."
"What do you mean `When we leave?!' Give it back now."
"For the past fifteen minutes now, you've just been droning on with names. "Benny Benny Benny. Benny Wong. Benny Wong? Benny O'Leary. Freakin' Fox McCloud. I got K. Wolfmann's death scenes outta my right ear, and Benny Pape I-don't-know-what, outta my left!"
"What do you care?"
"When you're annoying as all get out, I care a lot."
"Give me that ... er ... gimme that scrap."
"You gonna put it away?"
"I'm gonna do whatever I wanna do with it."
"Then I'm just gonna jam it up my snout."
At that moment, the waitress came over. She was a tall, atractive mink, and from what Wolf could tell she seemed about 25-30 years old. Wolf started smiling, and sat up a bit straighter when she came back. She smiled back.
"You boys doin' okay?" she asked, pushing her chewing gum to the side of her mouth with her tongue. "Can I get you anything?"
Wolf looked at his wingmen. Andrew shook his head, but Pigma's eyes brightened.
"You got any pumpkin pie?" he asked. Wolf could already see beads of spit dribbling out the corner of Dengar's mouth.
"Sure do," said the waitress taking a few steps backwards. "Would you like it a'la mode?"
Pigma didn't say anything, but let out what seemed to be a high pitched squeal. The mink stopped chewing her gum, turned on one heel, and walked as quickly as she could back to the kitchen.
Andrew and O'Donnell stared at the pig as he stared at the nurse going away. After a few moments, Wolf turned to Oikonny.
"You know, on Katina, they don't call it pie a'la mode." he said.
"Really." Andrew said. "What do they call it?"
"Pie with whipped cream."
"Huh, do they have tornab crab?"
"Yeah, " Wolf said, raising an eyebrow to add emphasis. "But they call it King Crab."
"Pfft. King Crab."
NEXT CHAPTER: I'M SO VERY VERY TIRED!
"Aquaduct Starwolves."
"Did you ever smell burnt hair in the morning? And if so, did you ever slap your head to make sure it wasn't you?"
- Leon Powalski
Pigma, Andrew, and Wolf were sitting in the booth farthest away from the door in Rosie's diner. They were busy shoveling down their food while trying not to look conspicuous (though if I saw a monkey, a wolf, and a pig all sitting down at a table I'm sure I'd want my anti-psychotic dose kicked up a notch.) Andrew let out a large belch, and got back to a point of conversation he had been droning on for quite some time.
"Billy's Battle" he said matter-of-factly, "is all about the author's fascination with torture. The whole story really is nothing more than one, big, torture scene."
Pigma snorted. "No it's not. It's about the main character who has never really seen any combat at first hand, and then he gets captured and-"
"Whoa whoa! Time out truffles- tell that crap to his mother."
Meanwhile, Wolf, who was sitting across from them, was scratching his head and looking at a scrap of paper he had found in the pocket of his brown overcoat.
"Benny ... who the fark is Benny?" he muttered. "Benny ... Benny ... think ... Benny ... "
Andrew didn't pay attention, but kept going.
"It's not about the coming of age of the main character. Now granted that's what "Warmth in a Cold Spleen" is about, no argument about that.
Pigma cocked his head to the side. "Which one is "Warmth in a Cold Spleen?"
"You don't remember "Warmth in a Cold Spleen?" That was a real big one for K. Wolfmann. Hell, I don't even follow this Most Reviewed Fic crap, and I've at least heard of "Warmth in a Cold Spleen."
"Look jerk," snapped Pigma, jutting his finger at Andrew. "I didn't say I ain't read it. All I asked was how does it go? Excuse me for not being the system's biggest K. Wolfmann fan."
Wolf now had managed to start chewing on his pen, and between chomping on that and reading the paper he added "I like his early stuff. You know, "Grey Poupon's Arrival," "Grey Poupon's Arrival II," but once he got into his "Reflections of a Heretic" phase, I don't know, I tuned out.
Andrew grimmaced at his leader. "Hey, screw that. I'm making a point here. You're gonna make me lose my train of thought."
Wolf didn't answer back, but muttered: "Oh crap, Benny's that dipstick Papetoonian ..."
"What's that?" asked Pigma with a mouthful of pork chop.
"I found this scrap in my pocket, I haven't seen this in a good long while. Benny what? What was his last name?" Wolf went back to scratching his head, and chewing his pen.
"Where was I?" said Andrew aloud.
Pigma looked back over his shoulder. "You said "Warmth in a Cold Spleen" was a coming of age story, but "Billy's Battle" was just an overglorified torture scene."
"Let me tell ya what "Billy's Battle's" about. It's about some scass who's a regular murder machine. I mean all the time, morning, day, night, afternoon, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death.
"How much death is that?"
Wolf added his input again. "A lot."
Andrew nodded, and then turned back to Dengar. "Then one day he gets his hands on a real mofo, and it's like whoa momma! This jerk is a real pushover, he makes Pee=Wee herman look like a serious competitor. Now he's getting this serious maim action, he's feelin' something he ain't felt forever. An actual fic he's gonna get replies to."
Wolf muttered to himself again. "Drew? Benny Drew? No."
"It's good. It's a real eye catcher. It shouldn't be, this sorta thing is the kinda thing people turn away from, but when it's done and everything's splattered here and you, it sells. It sells like a real mofo. The great popularity is a real conquest of sorts. Hence, "Billy's Battle."
"Wong?"
Andrew again snapped at his leader, nearly throwing the napkin dispenser at him. "Screw you, wrong. I'm right! What do you know about it anyway? You're still reading Leopard-Freakin'-Lancaster."
Wolf snapped back "Not wrong, dipstick. Wong! You know, like the Papetoonian name?"
Pigma shook his head and snatched the piece of paper from O'Donnell's hand. Wolf glared, his mouth hanging open slightly.
"What d'you think you're doin'?!" he shouted. "Give that back!"
Pigma just growled, looking at the scrap. "I'm sick of freakin' hearin' it, Wolf. I'll give it back when we leave."
"What do you mean `When we leave?!' Give it back now."
"For the past fifteen minutes now, you've just been droning on with names. "Benny Benny Benny. Benny Wong. Benny Wong? Benny O'Leary. Freakin' Fox McCloud. I got K. Wolfmann's death scenes outta my right ear, and Benny Pape I-don't-know-what, outta my left!"
"What do you care?"
"When you're annoying as all get out, I care a lot."
"Give me that ... er ... gimme that scrap."
"You gonna put it away?"
"I'm gonna do whatever I wanna do with it."
"Then I'm just gonna jam it up my snout."
At that moment, the waitress came over. She was a tall, atractive mink, and from what Wolf could tell she seemed about 25-30 years old. Wolf started smiling, and sat up a bit straighter when she came back. She smiled back.
"You boys doin' okay?" she asked, pushing her chewing gum to the side of her mouth with her tongue. "Can I get you anything?"
Wolf looked at his wingmen. Andrew shook his head, but Pigma's eyes brightened.
"You got any pumpkin pie?" he asked. Wolf could already see beads of spit dribbling out the corner of Dengar's mouth.
"Sure do," said the waitress taking a few steps backwards. "Would you like it a'la mode?"
Pigma didn't say anything, but let out what seemed to be a high pitched squeal. The mink stopped chewing her gum, turned on one heel, and walked as quickly as she could back to the kitchen.
Andrew and O'Donnell stared at the pig as he stared at the nurse going away. After a few moments, Wolf turned to Oikonny.
"You know, on Katina, they don't call it pie a'la mode." he said.
"Really." Andrew said. "What do they call it?"
"Pie with whipped cream."
"Huh, do they have tornab crab?"
"Yeah, " Wolf said, raising an eyebrow to add emphasis. "But they call it King Crab."
"Pfft. King Crab."
NEXT CHAPTER: I'M SO VERY VERY TIRED!