muses_w_remotes: 4.1 Simpsons quote
4.1. "That's the last time you'll slap your Willy around!"
| The Simpsons
[Co-written with drcampbell. Follows THIS]
Lachlan stormed in to the living room and stood about a foot away from Chase. A moment later he paced towards the piano, then back again towards the window before he stopped and threw his hand up. “YOU’RE A FUCKING IDIOT!” he exploded, glaring down at Chase before he started to pace again. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD! I THOUGHT YOU WERE HURT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DISFIGURED LYING IN A DITCH WITH A KNIFE IN YOUR BACK! I THOUGHT YOU’D GOTTEN YOUR WILLY JAMMED IN AN UNFORTUNATE PLACE! I THOUGHT YOUR FIANCEE WAS GOING TO MUTANT ME INTO OBLIVION!”
There was a pause and a roughly drawn breath, then even more pacing. “WHAT’S WITH YOU AND BEING AN AUSSIE LIGHTWEIGHT?! YOU DAMN NEAR GAVE ME A BLOODY HEART ATTACK DISAPPEARING AND GOING TO GET ARRESTED! COPS DINNAE WANNA SEE YOUR WILLY! AND BY THE WAY, YOU’RE FECKING BANNED FROM EVER SINGING DRUNK PROCLAIMERS OR U2 AGAIN! AND WHILE WE’RE AT IT, ADD QUEEN TO THAT LIST! MY EARS STILL HURT! YOU SHIT!” He suddenly clutched at the side of his stomach and dropped down into the nearby recliner with a small grunt of pain.
Chase sat on the sofa, eyes wide and mouth clamped shut. Truth was, he was scared to say anything. He hadn’t ever heard his usually cool, calm and collected best mate yell like this. Even when he was in excruciating pain lying in a hospital bed with a bullet wound in his gut, he hadn’t yelled this much. The Scot only usually lost his cool when someone insulted his wife, like the time he called House an interesting string of colourful names when House called Tara a leprechaun. Chase’s head moved back forth with the pacing, much like one of those sideshow games with the clowns heads. See, this… this is what he expected Rogue to do.
He watched Lachlan, biting his lip. “Oh please tell me stress doesn’t make your injury hurt,” he pleaded, feeling like an utter wanker for causing his friend pain.
Lachlan looked up, still gripping at his side, cheeks red from the annoyed yelling. “Nay, shouting at pain in the arse idiots does,” he returned with a small frown still furrowing his forehead. “Do you realise how many muscles it takes to yell at someone? Now I have a headache. Wanker,” he added for emphasis. “I’m fucking strapping a tracking device to you next time that zaps you any time you reach for your cock.”
Chase shot his friend a sheepish look. “Sorry… I don’t even remember any of it.”
Lachlan pulled a face at him and flipped him off. “You dinnae have to. I’ve got it ground into my memory for all eternity. Thanks to those memories, I’m probably nay going to ever have another Viagra-less fuck in my life. Cheers.” He was still frowning as he caught Chase with another glare. “Dinnae even go thinking you’re drinking on your wedding day. I want to live to see my bairn born, you know. If you do something stupid at your wedding, its my fault and feck that. I’m still nay sure I didnae have a wee heart attack last night. I could be dead right now. We both could. Besides, wedding night is supposed to be the best fuck of your life. How are you going to manage that if you’re running around thinking you’re a cross between Freddie Mercury and Paris Hilton?”
“Was yours?” Chase asked hesitantly.
Lachlan just pointed at him. “Dinnae try and distract me with memories of my dick activities. I’m still mad at you. Even if you do look like shit.” He paused. “You alright, buddy?”
“… I’m not sure. Are you going to hit me?” Chase asked as he tried to sit back and get the sofa to swallow him.
Lachlan raised an eyebrow. “I dinnae know. Do you deserve it?”
Chase sighed. “Probably. How about if I just promise to never drink again?” he bargained.
“Ach, nay lad ever means that,” Lachlan said with a wave of his hand. “I willnae slap you this time. But make me nearly shit myself in fright again and I’m setting both Rogue and Tara onto you. With big sticks and a taser or something. Either way, it’ll hurt. So dinnae do anything like that again!”
“Sorry…”
Lachlan rolled his eyes. “Aye, I know. Fecking bastard, you are.” He shot Chase a tired smirk. “But you wouldnae be true to your thread of Scottish blood if you didnae partake in a wee bit of indecent exposure in your time.”
Chase looked at Lachlan in amusement. “Should I even ask?”
“Nay. A Scot never flashes and tells. He shouldnae need to if he made a good job of it,” Lachlan said with no more than a shrug and an amused flicker in his eyes.
- justalilcontact & doctortara referenced with permission
Words | 807
| The Simpsons
[Co-written with drcampbell. Follows THIS]
Lachlan stormed in to the living room and stood about a foot away from Chase. A moment later he paced towards the piano, then back again towards the window before he stopped and threw his hand up. “YOU’RE A FUCKING IDIOT!” he exploded, glaring down at Chase before he started to pace again. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD! I THOUGHT YOU WERE HURT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DISFIGURED LYING IN A DITCH WITH A KNIFE IN YOUR BACK! I THOUGHT YOU’D GOTTEN YOUR WILLY JAMMED IN AN UNFORTUNATE PLACE! I THOUGHT YOUR FIANCEE WAS GOING TO MUTANT ME INTO OBLIVION!”
There was a pause and a roughly drawn breath, then even more pacing. “WHAT’S WITH YOU AND BEING AN AUSSIE LIGHTWEIGHT?! YOU DAMN NEAR GAVE ME A BLOODY HEART ATTACK DISAPPEARING AND GOING TO GET ARRESTED! COPS DINNAE WANNA SEE YOUR WILLY! AND BY THE WAY, YOU’RE FECKING BANNED FROM EVER SINGING DRUNK PROCLAIMERS OR U2 AGAIN! AND WHILE WE’RE AT IT, ADD QUEEN TO THAT LIST! MY EARS STILL HURT! YOU SHIT!” He suddenly clutched at the side of his stomach and dropped down into the nearby recliner with a small grunt of pain.
Chase sat on the sofa, eyes wide and mouth clamped shut. Truth was, he was scared to say anything. He hadn’t ever heard his usually cool, calm and collected best mate yell like this. Even when he was in excruciating pain lying in a hospital bed with a bullet wound in his gut, he hadn’t yelled this much. The Scot only usually lost his cool when someone insulted his wife, like the time he called House an interesting string of colourful names when House called Tara a leprechaun. Chase’s head moved back forth with the pacing, much like one of those sideshow games with the clowns heads. See, this… this is what he expected Rogue to do.
He watched Lachlan, biting his lip. “Oh please tell me stress doesn’t make your injury hurt,” he pleaded, feeling like an utter wanker for causing his friend pain.
Lachlan looked up, still gripping at his side, cheeks red from the annoyed yelling. “Nay, shouting at pain in the arse idiots does,” he returned with a small frown still furrowing his forehead. “Do you realise how many muscles it takes to yell at someone? Now I have a headache. Wanker,” he added for emphasis. “I’m fucking strapping a tracking device to you next time that zaps you any time you reach for your cock.”
Chase shot his friend a sheepish look. “Sorry… I don’t even remember any of it.”
Lachlan pulled a face at him and flipped him off. “You dinnae have to. I’ve got it ground into my memory for all eternity. Thanks to those memories, I’m probably nay going to ever have another Viagra-less fuck in my life. Cheers.” He was still frowning as he caught Chase with another glare. “Dinnae even go thinking you’re drinking on your wedding day. I want to live to see my bairn born, you know. If you do something stupid at your wedding, its my fault and feck that. I’m still nay sure I didnae have a wee heart attack last night. I could be dead right now. We both could. Besides, wedding night is supposed to be the best fuck of your life. How are you going to manage that if you’re running around thinking you’re a cross between Freddie Mercury and Paris Hilton?”
“Was yours?” Chase asked hesitantly.
Lachlan just pointed at him. “Dinnae try and distract me with memories of my dick activities. I’m still mad at you. Even if you do look like shit.” He paused. “You alright, buddy?”
“… I’m not sure. Are you going to hit me?” Chase asked as he tried to sit back and get the sofa to swallow him.
Lachlan raised an eyebrow. “I dinnae know. Do you deserve it?”
Chase sighed. “Probably. How about if I just promise to never drink again?” he bargained.
“Ach, nay lad ever means that,” Lachlan said with a wave of his hand. “I willnae slap you this time. But make me nearly shit myself in fright again and I’m setting both Rogue and Tara onto you. With big sticks and a taser or something. Either way, it’ll hurt. So dinnae do anything like that again!”
“Sorry…”
Lachlan rolled his eyes. “Aye, I know. Fecking bastard, you are.” He shot Chase a tired smirk. “But you wouldnae be true to your thread of Scottish blood if you didnae partake in a wee bit of indecent exposure in your time.”
Chase looked at Lachlan in amusement. “Should I even ask?”
“Nay. A Scot never flashes and tells. He shouldnae need to if he made a good job of it,” Lachlan said with no more than a shrug and an amused flicker in his eyes.
- justalilcontact & doctortara referenced with permission
Words | 807