The Fortune Cookie, Take 2
Round 13, Prompt from averypartofme: Your sense of humor will soon cheer up a friend.
500 words.
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The celebratory Chinese he and Gus picked up on the way back from the sorority smells great. Hopping up on Jules' desk, Shawn grabs the mooshoo googoo gaga a second before Gus can; his buddy may be glaring now, but he'll thank him later when his stomach isn't protesting against all the MSG. Popping open the carton proves that his nose works just fine. He'd eat now, but there are rules to follow.
"Gus," Shawn says playfully when it becomes clear the rules are not being followed. "Come on, man."
If Gus hadn't been scared silly this evening (unlike my incredibly unshakable self, as he told Jules on the ride home) he might have argued the point. Instead, he shrugs and pulls them out of the bag.
Jules snaps her chopsticks open and stares, all but laughing. "That's a lot of fortune cookies, Shawn."
"You can't randomly choose your fortune when there's only three fortunes available, Jules," he explains. "And what happens to the last person? They get no choice at all. Approximately eighty-five people suffer from misgiven fortune cookies every day. I'm just doing my part to undo the damage the industry has done."
Gus snorts. "Shawn just really likes the cookies. And eating dessert before his meal."
"Gus!" How dare he. Shawn is scandalized by this surprising new lying streak. He's just lucky that Juliet knows who to really believe here. She watches, giggling, as Shawn sticks a hand in the pile of cookies and pulls one out with a flourish. He carefully opens the package without damaging the cookie, and cracks it open. He eats the cookie, then inspects his lucky numbers. Finally, he reads the fortune.
He remembers, far too clearly, how into her cover Juliet had gotten. How, despite the sorority girl giggling, at the end of the day she'd nearly died. She'd also wielded an axe against a slightly crazed college girl.
She could probably use some cheering up.
That in mind, he pulls out some of his best stories, trusting that Gus will be his ever-faithful straight man. And though he does, occasionally burst into laughter instead of following up on the joke, Shawn will forgive him that. Sometimes he's just too funny to help.
Spotting Lassie sighing his way out of the Chief's office sparks an idea that Shawn is almost surprised to have. But, in retrospect, Lassie was Shawn-, Gus-, and Jules-less for days. He must be miserable, especially if he's actively trying to get in on their conversation.
Shawn sneaks his hand back into the fortune cookie pile and grabs one to throw at the poor ol' detective. "Hey, Lassie!" Belatedly, he hopes Lassiter can catch. He does, so that's good.
Lassie walks away before Shawn can catch sight of his face, but judging from the crinkle of plastic and the snort of laughter he hears, he'll call it a success. Fortune fulfilled.
--
500 words.
--
The celebratory Chinese he and Gus picked up on the way back from the sorority smells great. Hopping up on Jules' desk, Shawn grabs the mooshoo googoo gaga a second before Gus can; his buddy may be glaring now, but he'll thank him later when his stomach isn't protesting against all the MSG. Popping open the carton proves that his nose works just fine. He'd eat now, but there are rules to follow.
"Gus," Shawn says playfully when it becomes clear the rules are not being followed. "Come on, man."
If Gus hadn't been scared silly this evening (unlike my incredibly unshakable self, as he told Jules on the ride home) he might have argued the point. Instead, he shrugs and pulls them out of the bag.
Jules snaps her chopsticks open and stares, all but laughing. "That's a lot of fortune cookies, Shawn."
"You can't randomly choose your fortune when there's only three fortunes available, Jules," he explains. "And what happens to the last person? They get no choice at all. Approximately eighty-five people suffer from misgiven fortune cookies every day. I'm just doing my part to undo the damage the industry has done."
Gus snorts. "Shawn just really likes the cookies. And eating dessert before his meal."
"Gus!" How dare he. Shawn is scandalized by this surprising new lying streak. He's just lucky that Juliet knows who to really believe here. She watches, giggling, as Shawn sticks a hand in the pile of cookies and pulls one out with a flourish. He carefully opens the package without damaging the cookie, and cracks it open. He eats the cookie, then inspects his lucky numbers. Finally, he reads the fortune.
He remembers, far too clearly, how into her cover Juliet had gotten. How, despite the sorority girl giggling, at the end of the day she'd nearly died. She'd also wielded an axe against a slightly crazed college girl.
She could probably use some cheering up.
That in mind, he pulls out some of his best stories, trusting that Gus will be his ever-faithful straight man. And though he does, occasionally burst into laughter instead of following up on the joke, Shawn will forgive him that. Sometimes he's just too funny to help.
Spotting Lassie sighing his way out of the Chief's office sparks an idea that Shawn is almost surprised to have. But, in retrospect, Lassie was Shawn-, Gus-, and Jules-less for days. He must be miserable, especially if he's actively trying to get in on their conversation.
Shawn sneaks his hand back into the fortune cookie pile and grabs one to throw at the poor ol' detective. "Hey, Lassie!" Belatedly, he hopes Lassiter can catch. He does, so that's good.
Lassie walks away before Shawn can catch sight of his face, but judging from the crinkle of plastic and the snort of laughter he hears, he'll call it a success. Fortune fulfilled.
--