ride the race cars, gonna dance on fire.
BECAUSE MY BRAIN IS SILLY AND I HATE IT.
reincarnation. sirens/game of thrones. r for language. 620 words.
ashley + stuart + rachid (references to robb stark).
also, SPOILERS FOR GAME OF THRONES.
xi.
The journey hadn't been so bad; yes, Rachid had boasted his usual quota about winning against himself at FIFA and Ashley sat in complacent silence and Stuart was contemplating his next war against biology but he enjoys the silence, the sound of the ambulance's motors humming and the slight screeching at the red lights. Their last job was an elderly man with wrinkles his mum couldn't have ironed out, complaining about severe pain whilest removing his contact lenses. The truth was the man did not have his contact lenses at all and had attempted to rip out the membrane of his cornea. Rachid - once they exited - complained about the lack of significance this had on his training, except for educating him further that people are insane and become even more so with age. Stuart, always ready with a lecture, compared the situation to the aging of wine and vinegar; wine growing riper with age and vinegar growing more foul.
It's in the silence that Rachid finds his voice and strengthens his resolve, turning to Ashley who was lounging in the back of the ambulance, sighing with boredom.
"I bet you were in the army in a past life," said Rachid, a sordid smirk staining his face.
Stuart immediately perks up, ripped from his silent reverie and Ashley stares at the trainee with transparent confusion.
"The army, mate? You out of your mind?" he replied with that 'I-am-not-amused' expression. "I'd rather masturbate with a cheese-grater."
"I'm serious, Ash," Rachid turned fully to him now, hands braced against the mediocre material of the ambulance seat, like one of those pitiful puppies that always wanted attention with their scrabbling and whining and last ditch efforts with pathetic pawing . "Could see you in the metal get-up and everythin'"
"Why are ya bringing this up now?"
Rachid shrugged. "We all have our things: Stu's a cynical cunt, I have a massive cock and you were a commander."
"What a fucking threesome we are," Stuart commented under his breath.
"Thought I was the omega. Don't have any authority," Ashley continued, averting his friend's usual spouting of snide.
The trainee sighed and whispered to Stuart quickly, "is Scotland in the north?"
"Why, yes it is."
"King of the north!" Rachid exclaimed, raising his hands as high as he could, otherwise barricaded by the ceiling.
"Bet you were still ginger back then," Stuart added, smug cunt.
Ashley scoffed and leaned his head back, intending on replaying that fucking porno he'd wanked off to last night, Beef Daddies: VII. "I hate you two so much. I'll be gone with Fat Carl, tomorrow, thanks."
"Oh, don't be like that, mate," said Stuart, eyes still on the road but Ashley knew he's staring at him anyway. "We're only joking. No need to kill us all."
Stuart humbly requested a high-five after his subsequent remark, which Rachid bestowed to him quite gladly and the ringing left in it's aftermath echoed in Ashley's ears like church bells in Sunday mass.
"If I ever do go to war, believe me; you two will be on the other side of the battlefield."
His head snapped up, what was really going on finally deciding to settle inside. "You planned this, didn't ya? Oh, I fuckin' knew it."
"Couldn't waste a perfectly good set-up," Stuart smiled with satisfaction.
"You fuckin' wankers."
"Hey!" Stuart said, trying to sound offended. "Just because your dad was executed for betraying the crown has nothing to do with us. That's right offensive."
Rachid calmly gestured between the two, shaking his head. "We should leave 'im alone, he needs to plan for his next battle for revenge; look at his face, he's proper pissed."
"Fat Carl sounds appealing to me now, thanks."