Decided to continue this for a bit – my own PC has died with all the work for the next chapter of Man of Misunderstandings on it. Oh well. This chapter rated for nasty evil bad words and even nastier inferences...tee hee.
I hate families.
They come all wrapped up with a heap of expectations that bear only the very smallest resemblance to something that may – or may not – be reality.
Other people's families are even worse. Not only do you have to be polite - or Captain Ahab of the tight pants decides you've turned into a white fuckin' whale (and we all know that white whales get stuck in the airlock for the duration [again]) – but you also have to play nice an' all that; which means you can't 'accidentally' push them of a cliff like you would if it were a real live family member of your'n.
...Oh alright, it wasn't a cliff...
...just a real steep bank...
...I couldn't find a cliff.
Pa always said that as long as you don't shoot family pretty much anything else is fair game. Pa came to regret that statement as Ma sat him down for a long talk about 'setting a good example' and when Ma decided to sit you down for a talk your fate was pretty much sealed. Anyway, after Ma's little chat, Pa amended his list to: known weapons, unknown weapons, things that aren't weapons but can be improvised as such, parts of things that aren't weapons... (That last one was added on after Ma caught me taking to my brother with a frozen leg of deer from the ice box).
Anyway, we have had the joy, this past week, of hosting the parents of Doctor Prissy and Sister Nutjob. I think the whole fuckin' crew took it in turns to come tell me what I could and couldn't say/do/wear. River kindly threatened to kill me with her brain and the Shepherd kindly took time out from nourishing Mal's guilt complex to give me my own personal lecture about the 'special hell' – which I understand, from the way the mad old buzzard keeps adding to its list of criteria, won't be suffering from a population shortage.
Things could have been worse.
They sure could have been a hell of a lot better although that was mainly due to Inara playing referee between Tam-the-Elder's continual (and ongoing) support and apologetics for the Alliance (blessed be their name) and Mal and his continual need to teach Alliance supporters the error of their ways. Loudly.
The Missus wasn't so bad, sure, she looked like a stuck-up matron of the highest order but she could suck an orange though an exhaust fitting and keep on going.
I don't mind being used. I especially didn't mind being used by the Missus Tam. That's not only cos of the sexin' mind, although that's a large part of it, the real pleasure is derived (and to be enjoyed), at a future date of my choosin', from the Doc coming over all lordly and civilised at me and my being able to tell him that I may, indeed, be what he says, but that didn't stop his mother from enjoying my company and that, for his edification, she fucks like an angry rattlesnake.
Then again, River's been lookin' at me kinda funny since they left; so maybe we'll wait and see – suicidal I'm not.