1Rubber Duckies and Bubble Baths
We do not own any of these characters. And yes, this is messed up. This is messed up like messed up so can't describe. It all came from the wee hours of the morning. Heh. Heh. Heheh. Rubber duckies. Anyways, this is soooo incredibly stupid and we know, (oh, how we know!) that this is waaaaay out of character.
PS: All characters a presumed innocent of doing drugs unless so proven in a court of law.
PSS: We'd really rather you didn't flame. We already know that it sucks, thank you very much. We can laugh at ourselves.
PSSS: No animals were harmed during this misguided writing.
PSSSS: We would like to thank the Johnson-Smith Organization for creating two AM.
PSSSSS (et cetera): Be thankful. This is only five pages. It could have been much longer. You have been saved by our own 4-point restraints and straight jackets. (Woe Kitten loves straight jackets. She's been put in them before, in all seriousness. No joke.)
PSSSSSS: This is only a test. You will wake up soon in your own room! Don't mind the needles! (Don't worry, we use the Sterile Technique!)
signed Takma'rierah, Woe Kitten, and Taryn the Refusing to Admit She's Not Normal.
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Alex sits in a bubble bath, holding his tiny little rubber ducky, named Delphinemustdiejunior, in the palm of his hand, smiling at it in a distracted fashion. It squeaks.
"You're so cuuute."
Squeak, squeak.
"You think we should kill Delphine, don't you?"
Squeak.
"Should we bomb her?"
SQUEAK!
"…You think I'm hot, don't you?"
Squueeaaak.
"So… Seen any good movies lately?"
Squeak
"Yeah, I've never seen any either."
…
"Dude, what's wrong, rubber ducky?"
Squeak!
"That's just sad."
He kisses the duck on top of its little head, and pats it on the beak.
Looking out the window, he sees Dio run by, streaking. Lucciola runs by soon after, holding the Guild scion's uniform in his arms and calling out to the younger boy. His shout of "Lord Dio!" can be heard faintly through the window.
He looks in askance at the duck. "Maybe we should try streaking. I should call up Vince."
Squeak.
Suddenly, his gun, sitting on the edge of the bath, falls in through the bubbles and clunks somewhere at the bottom of the tub.
"Shit!"
Squeak squeak.
He ducks beneath the bubbles and searches around for a moment. Coming up for air, he lifts box out of the water. "Why are these donuts still in here?" he muses to the duck. "Oh, I remember; it's from that one party the mechanics threw. Weird shit."
Squeak.
He submerges again, and after a while comes out again, bubbles piled onto his head and shoulders, with the sopping gun in his hand. He sets it back on the side.
Squeak!
"What?" He looks over into the bathroom. "Oh, hi Paul." Standing next to him is a tall, lanky boy, suspenders and dirtied clothing hanging lank off his form. He slowly raises his hand to his mouth, fisted, and puts his outstretch thumb to his mouth. His pinky lifts. Alex returns the gesture, and Delphinemustdiejunior gives a hearty squeak.
"Hey, short timer."
"Hey."
"So. Taking a bath?"
"Yep."
"Hmm."
"Wanna join me?"
"Okay," he shrugs, and strips down. He gets into the bathtub, grabs soap bubbles, and sticks them atop his curly black hair in a mountain of fluffy white. He then takes out his own rubber ducky, named Marymustdiethefiftyseventh. The previous one had been staked through its abdomen, never to squeak again.
"I like your duck," Paul ventures.
"Me too."
Paul sits for a moment, absently squeaking his ducky, and then gestures towards the donut box. "Care to share?"
"Sure. Don't know how long they've been in there, though."
"That's fine." He opens the box and chooses the least soggy of them, which happens to be a long john that had been preserved in its own sugary excrement. He takes a generous bite of it.
Squeak, Paul's duck said. He giggled, stopped, and cleared his throat. "Sorry about that," he said.
"It's fine."
…Squuuueeeeaaaaak! "Ha haha ha! Ha! Haaa haa ha!" (Prolonged laughter here) Alex gave him a dirty look. "Sorry, I can't help it." Alex sullenly looked down at his duck.
"You're ruining my bath," he whispered.
"Couple decades dead'll do that to an evil ghost like me."
Squeak.
"Yeah, I guess so."
Suddenly, the door banged open and a panting, laughing Dio stood in the nude in the doorway.
"Lord Dio! Come back here and cloth yourself at once!"
"Come and join me, Lucciola! This is so fun!" Suddenly, he looks into the bathroom and sees the occupants, who stared at him in surprise. "Oh! Hello, captain!"
"Hey, short timer," Paul said slyly.
Squeak.
Dio's eyes got wide. "Is that… A rubber ducky? I had one once! But then Delphine decided to torture it…"
Alex and Paul hunched over their rubber duckies protectively, shielding them.
"You're not touching my rubber ducky," Paul declared, and a muffled squeak came from behind him. He petted the squeaky toy, crooning, "My little Marymustdiethefiftyseventh… I won't let no nasty Guild boy touch you…"
Suddenly, Vince appeared behind both of the Guild boys. His eyes widened. "We're having a rubber duck party! Count me in!" He, too, stripped and jumped in, splashing Dio and Lucciola.
"Me too!" shouted Dio, and dived in. He reemerged with a plastic stretchy frog. "Come on, Lucciola!"
Squeak.
Lucciola's long face looked doubtful. "Lord Dio?"
"Come on in, pretty boy," Paul smirked.
Vince grinned, and squeaked his own rubber ducky.
"Okay," Lucciola said reluctantly, and proceeded to join them.
"Anyone want some pot?" Vince asked, taking a store of it out of his duck. "Or some weed coffee? I brew it myself; it gets you right up there."
"No thanks," Alex replied, sitting in the corner. "I've had bad experiences with your pot. Besides, we steal it every Monday from your garage."
"Oh…" He looked crestfallen. "Well, now I know where it keeps going to, I guess."
"Shit! You have pot! Why didn't you tell me?" Paul shouted. "I haven't smoked that stuff in years!"
"You can come over after the party," Vince told him warmly. "I always keep some on hand. I never get to smoke it, though, because people keep stealing it."
"Well then count me in!"
Squueeeaaak, squeeeaaak, squeeeeaaak.
"I want my duck to have pot in it, man. Marymustdiethefiftyseventh doesn't have pot in it," Paul lamented. His thin lips pouted boyishly.
"I just want a rubber ducky!" Dio exclaimed. "Where's mine!" He grabbed Alex's Delphinemustdiejunior, and ran, streaking once more, from the room. Lucciola began to follow him, hesitated, and grabbed a pair of towels, one of which he wrapped about himself, and whirred out of the room after the scion.
"My duuuckeeee! Curse you, Dioooo!" Alex pouted for a moment, and then straightened, pulling Delphinemustdiejuniorjunior from amidst the bubbles, squeaking it. "So, seen any good movies lately?"
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"Come be a streaking star with me, Immelman!"
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