75 Godiva Street, Superbowl Sunday
Hardison was grinning as he lugged the second screen into Eliot's living room. "Eliot! Yo, Eliot, where you at? Guess what!" Dropping his voice, he added to Parker, who was carrying her own load of chips and foam fingers, "He ain't never gonna guess."
Probably because most people wouldn't assume that their partners would just decide to throw a Superbowl party at their house without prior agreement. But Hardison wasn't going to let something like that stop him. If he hadn't been stymied by Eliot's lack of TVs, he wasn't going to be bothered by something like this, either.
Eliot leaned against the door jam and stared at the televisions coming in through the door. "For the last time, Hardison, I ain't lettin' you set up your six screen office thing in here."
Parker waved a foam finger at him. It was bright blue and orange and bigger than she was. “We’re here for the party! I brought the snacks. So you can just relax and not have to worry about being the host.”
Eliot opened his mouth, pointed at the foam finger, then let his head drop into his hands. "Of course you are."
"C'mon, mama, we talked about this," Hardison reminded. "We ask first. Yo, Eliot, you mind if we borrow your house for a Superbowl party? Our place is too small to fit a lot of people." Look, Eliot! He wasn't even putting up the screens while he was asking! Sure, he was subtly running a stud-finder over the walls to make sure they could be hung properly, but that was all!
"It's also traditional not to just show up with the supplies like you know I'm already gonna say yes." Don't be dumb, Eliot. They completely already knew you were going to say yes.
“There’s going to be puppies.” Parker had gotten some very unclear ideas about how the Super Bowl worked. “And maybe kittens. Val will like that!” Look, she even used your preferred name for your dog!
Of course they did. But they still asked. Even if the discussion before they left the house had ended with a 'Let's go steal a living room.' That was just tradition at work, okay? "So, I figure we'll have the big, big screen with the game on it, an' then the other slightly-smaller big screen have the Puppybowl. Then everybody's happy an' got somethin' to watch. Also, for refreshments, look what I found!"
Beaming, Hardison pulled out a six pack of Thief Juice. "We can introduce the island to it!"
Poor Eliot. He was doomed. Had been for years. "I am not hosting," he said. "I am not cleaning. I am not responsible for any part of this, and if anything breaks, I'm holdin' you two personally responsible."
Parker bopped him on the head with the foam finger, grinning. “Super Bowl!”
[Open to the all the townies of the island. Invites send out handwavily over email. Co-written with the wonderful vdistinctive and whoisalicewhite! OCD up, come one come all!]
Probably because most people wouldn't assume that their partners would just decide to throw a Superbowl party at their house without prior agreement. But Hardison wasn't going to let something like that stop him. If he hadn't been stymied by Eliot's lack of TVs, he wasn't going to be bothered by something like this, either.
Eliot leaned against the door jam and stared at the televisions coming in through the door. "For the last time, Hardison, I ain't lettin' you set up your six screen office thing in here."
Parker waved a foam finger at him. It was bright blue and orange and bigger than she was. “We’re here for the party! I brought the snacks. So you can just relax and not have to worry about being the host.”
Eliot opened his mouth, pointed at the foam finger, then let his head drop into his hands. "Of course you are."
"C'mon, mama, we talked about this," Hardison reminded. "We ask first. Yo, Eliot, you mind if we borrow your house for a Superbowl party? Our place is too small to fit a lot of people." Look, Eliot! He wasn't even putting up the screens while he was asking! Sure, he was subtly running a stud-finder over the walls to make sure they could be hung properly, but that was all!
"It's also traditional not to just show up with the supplies like you know I'm already gonna say yes." Don't be dumb, Eliot. They completely already knew you were going to say yes.
“There’s going to be puppies.” Parker had gotten some very unclear ideas about how the Super Bowl worked. “And maybe kittens. Val will like that!” Look, she even used your preferred name for your dog!
Of course they did. But they still asked. Even if the discussion before they left the house had ended with a 'Let's go steal a living room.' That was just tradition at work, okay? "So, I figure we'll have the big, big screen with the game on it, an' then the other slightly-smaller big screen have the Puppybowl. Then everybody's happy an' got somethin' to watch. Also, for refreshments, look what I found!"
Beaming, Hardison pulled out a six pack of Thief Juice. "We can introduce the island to it!"
Poor Eliot. He was doomed. Had been for years. "I am not hosting," he said. "I am not cleaning. I am not responsible for any part of this, and if anything breaks, I'm holdin' you two personally responsible."
Parker bopped him on the head with the foam finger, grinning. “Super Bowl!”
[Open to the all the townies of the island. Invites send out handwavily over email. Co-written with the wonderful vdistinctive and whoisalicewhite! OCD up, come one come all!]