Retail Therapy (Mythklok Interstitial)
Apr. 29th, 2011 07:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Retail Therapy (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A Saturday excursion to a discount wholesaler
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing, Sample Lady abuse
Notes: You were all wondering where those olives came from, weren't you. WEREN'T YOU?
"You really don't have servants do this for you?" Sariel inquired.
"On occasion. Yes. However as part of my duties as Lord Remover of Obstacles, I find it meet to pass some time amongst the mortal populace whist they undertake quotidian tasks."
"Quotidian?” asked Sariel. “Does that mean they can breathe underwater?"
"Routine daily errands, Sariel. And nothing is quite so quotidian as a sojourn to a big box retailer on a fine Saturday morning!" Ganesh concluded, sweeping a mere single lonely arm around the displays of high definition televisions and whitewall tires that marked the entryway to the vast, high-ceilinged warehouse store. “And,” he added, “as newly designated Lord of the Dance, it is essential that our son take part as well.”
From his seat atop their shopping basket, Elias gazed around in wonder, kicking his chubby legs and gawping. If he had had his tiny, silvery-tipped wings out, one supposed, he may have flapped them with sheer glee. Instead, earlier that morning, and after a bit of rather amusing cajoling and blandishments phrased in Baby Angelic from various adult caretakers, he had been persuaded to put away both the wings and his extra set of arms just for the occasion of not causing any undue religious visions amongst the other retail patrons.
“So is dis like a food liberry?” Pickles inquired. His eyes wide as Elias’, and his pupils were definitely more dilated.
“A what?” said Sariel.
“Pffft. Dat ams where you goes to gets da meals whens your chefs ams shredded bys da ‘overcraftese!” Skwisgaar scoffed.
“Charles, dood, you need t’ live in da real world more!” Pickles scolded.
“So, did you guys really have absolutely nothing else to do right now?” Sariel asked, scowling at the duo of death metal musicians. If Sariel had had his pure silvery wings out at the present time – which he did not – one assumed he would have definitely given them an irritated flap for good measure.
“I have a shopping list,” said Ganesh, suddenly flourishing the same. It looked rather lengthy, spooling all the way out onto the floor and thence out several feet. Ganesh tore off the very topmost bit of the list. “Here, dear,” he told Sariel. “You hasten to the grocery section and pick up some victuals.”
“Victuals?” Sariel asked.
“Dat ams dat place what has dems sexies modesk ins deirs undert’ings. Victuals Sekrinks,” Skwisgaar patiently explained.
“Dood. Doo we gotta explain everyt’ing too yoo?” Pickles huffed.
Sariel glowered and gave another imaginary wing flap.
“You boys try and remain out of trouble,” Ganesh cautioned, eyeing Sariel.
“What? How would I get in trouble?” Sariel protested, grabbing the list bit from Ganesh and stalking towards the grocery section, Skwisgaar and his ever-present Gibson in tow.
“You know,” he grumbled to the musician. “You don’t have to go with me.”
“You amsn’t hears Ganoshes? I ams keepsing you out of troubles,” Skwisgaar muttered.
“What kind of trouble am I supposed to – GAH!”
Skwisgaar, who had been obliviously practicing his guitar, had walked into Sariel when the angel had stopped short upon spying the marvel that lay up the aisle: a smoking barbecue grill arrayed with delicious chocolate chip pancake-wrapped sausages on a stick. It was attended by a chipper apron-clad middle-aged woman.
"Jackpot!" Sariel whispered to Skwisgaar. "It's a Sample Lady!"
"Ams whats?" Skwisgaar asked.
"Would you like a chocolate chip pancake-wrapped frozen sausage on a stick, dear?" the Sample Lady sweetly asked Sariel. In best spokesmodel style, she held up a box of the frozen delicacy. "These are available...."
"Oh, fuck yeah!" Sariel told her. "I'll have two," he said, grasping out a hand.
"Only one to a customer. Dear," snapped the Sample Lady, who suddenly looked not so chipper.
"But.... But.... I'm, uh, eating for three?"
"Excuse me?" asked a now distinctly un-chipper Sample Lady.
"I dunno. It's what fucking Raziel always used to say."
The Sample Lady glowered in a manner that was if anything, the polar opposite of chipper.
But quite suddenly, the slightly greed-crazed angel was being body blocked by another being. “Hellos, Sampgles Ladies. I ams wantsing to sampgles your wareses,” Skwisgaar purred.
Sariel raised an eyebrow.
Pickles and Elias wandered wide-eyed through the displays arrayed in the center aisle. They had, at some point in the past, been dispatched on an errand by a harried Lord Remover of Obstacles. It was no matter, as the errand, much like the fragment of the list entrusted to Dethklok's drummer, had been long forgotten in the small electronics section as the two beings comparison shopped various iPod attachments, and Elias now rode happily on Pickles' hip, variously pointing out items of interest and babbling witty observations in Baby Angelic.
"Hey Boon dood," said Pickles, moving towards a table. "Dis looks like yer Auntie Raz, don't it?" He picked up a Stepford-expressioned vinyl doll to which had been added, besides a poorly wrought polyester dress, two fluffy white wings. Elias gripped the doll in chubby angel baby fingers.
"Da Angel o' Retail Consumption Barbie," read Pickles, lifting a box.
"Hey, you don't wanna give him that doll!" snorted another customer.
"Wut?" asked Pickles. He was, to be frank, still paying more attention to Angel of Retail Consumption Barbie's colorful box, which had some quite impressive 3D effects.
"You can't give a little boy a doll," she sniffed.
"Dood. Why nawt?" Pickles wondered, wiggling the box.
"You don't know?"
"Naw."
"Are you gay or something?"
"Naw, I'm nawt gay, I jest feck a lotta men," PIckles cheerfully supplied.
The customer gasped and fled.
"Wut?" asked Pickles. "Hey, dood, I suck off women too!" But it was too late. "Boy, wut a grouchy dood. Hey!" The very last "hey" was not directed at the irritable customer, but rather at Angel of Retail Consumption Barbie, who was currently hovering some three feet off the display table through use of her somewhat shabby wings.
"Mooooommmmmy, wanna flyin' angle!" squealed an obviously gender-confused little boy in a stroller across the way.
“Hey, Skwisgaar!”
The Swede poked his head out from between two 170-lb bags of Froot Loops. “Charle! I ams sampgling as fasts as I can!” he puffed, rubbing some Sample Lady lipstick from his cheek.
“But there’s pie ladies!”
“Pfft.”
“They’re twins.”
The Swede scowled. “Jaaaa...?”
“And.... And they must be eighty years old! No, maybe ninety!”
Sirens blared in the distance.
The Lord Remover of Obstacles was barely visible behind the now heavily laden shopping cart. He peeked around curiously to see police personnel running down the aisle.
The PA crackled to life. "We regret to announce we have sold out of Angel of Retail Consumption Barbie," someone announced.
"You wouldn't know anything about this, would you?" Ganesh asked Pickles, who had just returned with Elias. Despite the horrible future it fortold, the child was still contentedly clutching his doll.
"No, dood, we wuz jest playin' Plants Versus Zombies III in 3D in da TV section. Boon c'n make da zombies dance da Batusi!"
Ganesh turned at the sound of an unmuffled angelic belch. He saw a rather incredible pile of pastry boxes, being held, one supposed, by the angel in question, who was quite hidden behind them.
"Sariel, you terribly greedy angel, we can't possibly buy all those pies!" Ganesh scolded.
"Oh, Charle ams nots buyings dese, deses ams presenks from da pies ladies," Skwisgaar explained.
"I'm sorry?"
"Skwisgaar was sampling the wares," Sariel explained, dumping the lot on the already overstuffed shopping cart.
"Did you think to get olives, jaanu?" Ganesh sighed.
"No. Do we need them?"
"They were on the list!" the Hindu god fretted.
"But I don't like Costco olives," Sariel grumbled.
"Hey, dat kid can'ts ams haves dat dollie!" Skwisgaar pointed out.
"Why nawt, dood?" Pickles huffed.
"Because den he ams grows up to be an angel!"
"Skwisgaar, he's already an angel," Sariel pointed out.
"Oh. Ja."
Elias babbled something to Barbie. She now had four arms as well as her lovely wings.
"Hey, dat ams actually quites metals," Skwisgaar said approvingly.
"All right," said Ganesh, tossing the doll atop a shopping cart that now looked a bit like the Grinch's sleigh following a visit to Whoville. "If you will simply scurry off and retrieve those olives, we can depart," he told Sariel.
"I dunno, looks like there's a riot in the toy aisle," Sariel told him, burping blueberry pie.
"Eh. You can prolly jest fly, dood," Pickles pointed out, observing the teeming mob. "I don't t'ink does doods clobberin' each udder wit' da tiki torches is gonna notice."
"Okey-dokey, hold my jacket?" Sariel asked, burping and doffing the same as he True Formed. "Oof," he said, holding his stomach. "I wonder if I'm too heavy to fly?"
"Just how many pies did you consume?" Ganesh accused.
"NOT MANY!"
"Ja, but he ams eats da freezer fulls of da chocolately chipped snausages and da sticks. And some of dems ams frozen!"
"Tattle tale," Sariel grumbled, taking off.
"Ah, so nice! A completely ordinary day amidst the mortals!" Ganesh gushed, watching his angel boyfriend fly above an angry mob. Said seething crowd was now hurling 50-lb drums of nutmeg and 700 gallon pickle jars at each other in fury over the oversold Barbie dolls. "What say a quick round of martinis upon our return?"
"Yeh, teeny martoonies!" Pickles cheered.
"I'm sorry, what?" inquired Ganesh, pushing his cart in the line at the Express Checkout register.
"Yoo ain't never heard o' dat one? It's a mortal expression!"
"It sounds somewhat ghastly."
"But I t'ought da point was bein' around da humans?"
"Well, there are limits..." Ganesh sniffed.
"Uh, dudes, shoulds we be in dis lines?" Skwisgaar asked, hugging his Gibson to him as the other patrons glowered menacingly at Ganesh's overladen cart.
"Why not?" Ganesh asked, batting his eyes at the appreciative clerk. "I fear I may have slightly over six items," he courteously apologized to her.
"Ooo, no problem sir," she giggled. And quite suddenly, every single box person in the store was hastening to pack up Ganesh's goods.
"I got your olives," Sariel supplied as he landed. "And look! I found one more case of the chocolate chip-pancake wrapped sausages. On a stick!"
"I despair for a civilization that produces such things," Ganesh sighed, handing over his yttrium card to the adoring clerk.
"But it's on a stick!" Sariel protested.
"Gannish dood, aren't yoo bein' a bit snooty about dis?" Pickles asked as they proceeded out the door and to the car park.
"One must have standards! I'm hardly going to take Boon to a monster truck rally!"
"Oh? Why not?" smacked Sariel.
"SARIEL! Have you already opened that jar of olives?" Ganesh scolded as he waved a hand and his family van rolled up conveniently in front of them.
"No," protested Sariel through a mouthful of olives.
"Tsk," tsked Ganesh, as he handed off the slightly altered Angel of Retail Consumption Barbie to a giggling Elias and waved his hand to pack the van.
"Hey! You can't let that kid have a Barbie!" someone shouted at them. "He'll grow up A GAY!"
"Well, actually," Ganesh explained, "we're all gay!"
"I ams not! Well, nots complegetly," Skwisgaar complained.
"Except him. And we are all hurrying back home to engage in bizarre sexual practices."
"But I ams just hads sex," Skwisgaar interrupted again.
"Well, you may have a martini instead."
"Yer WEIRDOS!" the shouter shouted. As if in reply, Elias waved Angel of Retail Consumption Barbie at the fellow. The doll shot a rather impressive geyser of pure fire from her mouth to within scalding distance of the shouter, who promptly exclaimed some colorful phrases and departed.
"DAT is da COOLEST DOLL EVER," Pickles gushed. "Kin I go back an' get one too?"
"No, we must get Boon home for his nap," Ganesh told him, strapping Elias into his little car seat. "And no more pyrotechnics until we reach home, you!' he warned the baby.
"Den kin we get martoonies?" PIckles begged.
"Yes, we may have 'martoonies.' If Sariel hasn't already finished off the olives. Now, everyone inside!"
"SHOTS GUNSES!" squealed Skwisgaar, leaping into the passenger seat.
'Hey, I should be able to sit in front!" Sariel protested.
"I ams calleds it!"
"He did call it, Sariel," Ganesh noted.
"But he's my fiance," Sariel pouted, getting into the back seat with Pickles and Elias.
"Pfft. I ams gives hims da blow jobs laters," Skwisgaar offered.
"Gods dammit! Can we at least go to a monster truck rally!" Sariel grumbled.
"Maybe, if you'll stop eating those olives. Is everyone belted in? Good." And with that the family van drove off and disappeared into the sunny late morning sky.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A Saturday excursion to a discount wholesaler
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing, Sample Lady abuse
Notes: You were all wondering where those olives came from, weren't you. WEREN'T YOU?
"You really don't have servants do this for you?" Sariel inquired.
"On occasion. Yes. However as part of my duties as Lord Remover of Obstacles, I find it meet to pass some time amongst the mortal populace whist they undertake quotidian tasks."
"Quotidian?” asked Sariel. “Does that mean they can breathe underwater?"
"Routine daily errands, Sariel. And nothing is quite so quotidian as a sojourn to a big box retailer on a fine Saturday morning!" Ganesh concluded, sweeping a mere single lonely arm around the displays of high definition televisions and whitewall tires that marked the entryway to the vast, high-ceilinged warehouse store. “And,” he added, “as newly designated Lord of the Dance, it is essential that our son take part as well.”
From his seat atop their shopping basket, Elias gazed around in wonder, kicking his chubby legs and gawping. If he had had his tiny, silvery-tipped wings out, one supposed, he may have flapped them with sheer glee. Instead, earlier that morning, and after a bit of rather amusing cajoling and blandishments phrased in Baby Angelic from various adult caretakers, he had been persuaded to put away both the wings and his extra set of arms just for the occasion of not causing any undue religious visions amongst the other retail patrons.
“So is dis like a food liberry?” Pickles inquired. His eyes wide as Elias’, and his pupils were definitely more dilated.
“A what?” said Sariel.
“Pffft. Dat ams where you goes to gets da meals whens your chefs ams shredded bys da ‘overcraftese!” Skwisgaar scoffed.
“Charles, dood, you need t’ live in da real world more!” Pickles scolded.
“So, did you guys really have absolutely nothing else to do right now?” Sariel asked, scowling at the duo of death metal musicians. If Sariel had had his pure silvery wings out at the present time – which he did not – one assumed he would have definitely given them an irritated flap for good measure.
“I have a shopping list,” said Ganesh, suddenly flourishing the same. It looked rather lengthy, spooling all the way out onto the floor and thence out several feet. Ganesh tore off the very topmost bit of the list. “Here, dear,” he told Sariel. “You hasten to the grocery section and pick up some victuals.”
“Victuals?” Sariel asked.
“Dat ams dat place what has dems sexies modesk ins deirs undert’ings. Victuals Sekrinks,” Skwisgaar patiently explained.
“Dood. Doo we gotta explain everyt’ing too yoo?” Pickles huffed.
Sariel glowered and gave another imaginary wing flap.
“You boys try and remain out of trouble,” Ganesh cautioned, eyeing Sariel.
“What? How would I get in trouble?” Sariel protested, grabbing the list bit from Ganesh and stalking towards the grocery section, Skwisgaar and his ever-present Gibson in tow.
“You know,” he grumbled to the musician. “You don’t have to go with me.”
“You amsn’t hears Ganoshes? I ams keepsing you out of troubles,” Skwisgaar muttered.
“What kind of trouble am I supposed to – GAH!”
Skwisgaar, who had been obliviously practicing his guitar, had walked into Sariel when the angel had stopped short upon spying the marvel that lay up the aisle: a smoking barbecue grill arrayed with delicious chocolate chip pancake-wrapped sausages on a stick. It was attended by a chipper apron-clad middle-aged woman.
"Jackpot!" Sariel whispered to Skwisgaar. "It's a Sample Lady!"
"Ams whats?" Skwisgaar asked.
"Would you like a chocolate chip pancake-wrapped frozen sausage on a stick, dear?" the Sample Lady sweetly asked Sariel. In best spokesmodel style, she held up a box of the frozen delicacy. "These are available...."
"Oh, fuck yeah!" Sariel told her. "I'll have two," he said, grasping out a hand.
"Only one to a customer. Dear," snapped the Sample Lady, who suddenly looked not so chipper.
"But.... But.... I'm, uh, eating for three?"
"Excuse me?" asked a now distinctly un-chipper Sample Lady.
"I dunno. It's what fucking Raziel always used to say."
The Sample Lady glowered in a manner that was if anything, the polar opposite of chipper.
But quite suddenly, the slightly greed-crazed angel was being body blocked by another being. “Hellos, Sampgles Ladies. I ams wantsing to sampgles your wareses,” Skwisgaar purred.
Sariel raised an eyebrow.
Pickles and Elias wandered wide-eyed through the displays arrayed in the center aisle. They had, at some point in the past, been dispatched on an errand by a harried Lord Remover of Obstacles. It was no matter, as the errand, much like the fragment of the list entrusted to Dethklok's drummer, had been long forgotten in the small electronics section as the two beings comparison shopped various iPod attachments, and Elias now rode happily on Pickles' hip, variously pointing out items of interest and babbling witty observations in Baby Angelic.
"Hey Boon dood," said Pickles, moving towards a table. "Dis looks like yer Auntie Raz, don't it?" He picked up a Stepford-expressioned vinyl doll to which had been added, besides a poorly wrought polyester dress, two fluffy white wings. Elias gripped the doll in chubby angel baby fingers.
"Da Angel o' Retail Consumption Barbie," read Pickles, lifting a box.
"Hey, you don't wanna give him that doll!" snorted another customer.
"Wut?" asked Pickles. He was, to be frank, still paying more attention to Angel of Retail Consumption Barbie's colorful box, which had some quite impressive 3D effects.
"You can't give a little boy a doll," she sniffed.
"Dood. Why nawt?" Pickles wondered, wiggling the box.
"You don't know?"
"Naw."
"Are you gay or something?"
"Naw, I'm nawt gay, I jest feck a lotta men," PIckles cheerfully supplied.
The customer gasped and fled.
"Wut?" asked Pickles. "Hey, dood, I suck off women too!" But it was too late. "Boy, wut a grouchy dood. Hey!" The very last "hey" was not directed at the irritable customer, but rather at Angel of Retail Consumption Barbie, who was currently hovering some three feet off the display table through use of her somewhat shabby wings.
"Mooooommmmmy, wanna flyin' angle!" squealed an obviously gender-confused little boy in a stroller across the way.
“Hey, Skwisgaar!”
The Swede poked his head out from between two 170-lb bags of Froot Loops. “Charle! I ams sampgling as fasts as I can!” he puffed, rubbing some Sample Lady lipstick from his cheek.
“But there’s pie ladies!”
“Pfft.”
“They’re twins.”
The Swede scowled. “Jaaaa...?”
“And.... And they must be eighty years old! No, maybe ninety!”
Sirens blared in the distance.
The Lord Remover of Obstacles was barely visible behind the now heavily laden shopping cart. He peeked around curiously to see police personnel running down the aisle.
The PA crackled to life. "We regret to announce we have sold out of Angel of Retail Consumption Barbie," someone announced.
"You wouldn't know anything about this, would you?" Ganesh asked Pickles, who had just returned with Elias. Despite the horrible future it fortold, the child was still contentedly clutching his doll.
"No, dood, we wuz jest playin' Plants Versus Zombies III in 3D in da TV section. Boon c'n make da zombies dance da Batusi!"
Ganesh turned at the sound of an unmuffled angelic belch. He saw a rather incredible pile of pastry boxes, being held, one supposed, by the angel in question, who was quite hidden behind them.
"Sariel, you terribly greedy angel, we can't possibly buy all those pies!" Ganesh scolded.
"Oh, Charle ams nots buyings dese, deses ams presenks from da pies ladies," Skwisgaar explained.
"I'm sorry?"
"Skwisgaar was sampling the wares," Sariel explained, dumping the lot on the already overstuffed shopping cart.
"Did you think to get olives, jaanu?" Ganesh sighed.
"No. Do we need them?"
"They were on the list!" the Hindu god fretted.
"But I don't like Costco olives," Sariel grumbled.
"Hey, dat kid can'ts ams haves dat dollie!" Skwisgaar pointed out.
"Why nawt, dood?" Pickles huffed.
"Because den he ams grows up to be an angel!"
"Skwisgaar, he's already an angel," Sariel pointed out.
"Oh. Ja."
Elias babbled something to Barbie. She now had four arms as well as her lovely wings.
"Hey, dat ams actually quites metals," Skwisgaar said approvingly.
"All right," said Ganesh, tossing the doll atop a shopping cart that now looked a bit like the Grinch's sleigh following a visit to Whoville. "If you will simply scurry off and retrieve those olives, we can depart," he told Sariel.
"I dunno, looks like there's a riot in the toy aisle," Sariel told him, burping blueberry pie.
"Eh. You can prolly jest fly, dood," Pickles pointed out, observing the teeming mob. "I don't t'ink does doods clobberin' each udder wit' da tiki torches is gonna notice."
"Okey-dokey, hold my jacket?" Sariel asked, burping and doffing the same as he True Formed. "Oof," he said, holding his stomach. "I wonder if I'm too heavy to fly?"
"Just how many pies did you consume?" Ganesh accused.
"NOT MANY!"
"Ja, but he ams eats da freezer fulls of da chocolately chipped snausages and da sticks. And some of dems ams frozen!"
"Tattle tale," Sariel grumbled, taking off.
"Ah, so nice! A completely ordinary day amidst the mortals!" Ganesh gushed, watching his angel boyfriend fly above an angry mob. Said seething crowd was now hurling 50-lb drums of nutmeg and 700 gallon pickle jars at each other in fury over the oversold Barbie dolls. "What say a quick round of martinis upon our return?"
"Yeh, teeny martoonies!" Pickles cheered.
"I'm sorry, what?" inquired Ganesh, pushing his cart in the line at the Express Checkout register.
"Yoo ain't never heard o' dat one? It's a mortal expression!"
"It sounds somewhat ghastly."
"But I t'ought da point was bein' around da humans?"
"Well, there are limits..." Ganesh sniffed.
"Uh, dudes, shoulds we be in dis lines?" Skwisgaar asked, hugging his Gibson to him as the other patrons glowered menacingly at Ganesh's overladen cart.
"Why not?" Ganesh asked, batting his eyes at the appreciative clerk. "I fear I may have slightly over six items," he courteously apologized to her.
"Ooo, no problem sir," she giggled. And quite suddenly, every single box person in the store was hastening to pack up Ganesh's goods.
"I got your olives," Sariel supplied as he landed. "And look! I found one more case of the chocolate chip-pancake wrapped sausages. On a stick!"
"I despair for a civilization that produces such things," Ganesh sighed, handing over his yttrium card to the adoring clerk.
"But it's on a stick!" Sariel protested.
"Gannish dood, aren't yoo bein' a bit snooty about dis?" Pickles asked as they proceeded out the door and to the car park.
"One must have standards! I'm hardly going to take Boon to a monster truck rally!"
"Oh? Why not?" smacked Sariel.
"SARIEL! Have you already opened that jar of olives?" Ganesh scolded as he waved a hand and his family van rolled up conveniently in front of them.
"No," protested Sariel through a mouthful of olives.
"Tsk," tsked Ganesh, as he handed off the slightly altered Angel of Retail Consumption Barbie to a giggling Elias and waved his hand to pack the van.
"Hey! You can't let that kid have a Barbie!" someone shouted at them. "He'll grow up A GAY!"
"Well, actually," Ganesh explained, "we're all gay!"
"I ams not! Well, nots complegetly," Skwisgaar complained.
"Except him. And we are all hurrying back home to engage in bizarre sexual practices."
"But I ams just hads sex," Skwisgaar interrupted again.
"Well, you may have a martini instead."
"Yer WEIRDOS!" the shouter shouted. As if in reply, Elias waved Angel of Retail Consumption Barbie at the fellow. The doll shot a rather impressive geyser of pure fire from her mouth to within scalding distance of the shouter, who promptly exclaimed some colorful phrases and departed.
"DAT is da COOLEST DOLL EVER," Pickles gushed. "Kin I go back an' get one too?"
"No, we must get Boon home for his nap," Ganesh told him, strapping Elias into his little car seat. "And no more pyrotechnics until we reach home, you!' he warned the baby.
"Den kin we get martoonies?" PIckles begged.
"Yes, we may have 'martoonies.' If Sariel hasn't already finished off the olives. Now, everyone inside!"
"SHOTS GUNSES!" squealed Skwisgaar, leaping into the passenger seat.
'Hey, I should be able to sit in front!" Sariel protested.
"I ams calleds it!"
"He did call it, Sariel," Ganesh noted.
"But he's my fiance," Sariel pouted, getting into the back seat with Pickles and Elias.
"Pfft. I ams gives hims da blow jobs laters," Skwisgaar offered.
"Gods dammit! Can we at least go to a monster truck rally!" Sariel grumbled.
"Maybe, if you'll stop eating those olives. Is everyone belted in? Good." And with that the family van drove off and disappeared into the sunny late morning sky.
