Bluuurgh
Sick as a dog. I've used up three rolls of toilet paper just blowing my nose. And one nostril keeps deciding to randomly gush blood. Plus I have a sore throat which means every time I cough I think I'm gonna throw up. Anyway. I was thinking about the Fifteen Character Meme and had an urge to write some crossover rubbish, just to see if I could keep the characters in character. If you like ridiculous crap, have a look.
Backround: Giles (from Buffy) and Roger Junior (from Tekken 5) are making their way across America together. Financial troubles mean they're stuck hitch-hiking. NWS; contains a rape fantasy.
---
Giles walked slowly backwards along the grass verge, thumb pointing up the highway, gazing hopefully at the cars whizzing past. He wasn’t keen on hitch-hiking, but one look at Roger Junior told him that they had no choice. The little kangaroo looked tired and fed up. Probably hungry and missing his parents, too.
A car flew past, too close for comfort, and splashed muddy water all over Giles’ trousers. He cursed and flipped the driver off in frustration. If people weren’t going to stop for him, they could at least stop for Roger.
He turned back to his young companion and attempted a smile.
“Don’t worry.” He scratched Roger behind his ears. “Someone will stop soon.”
As if on cue, a small green car pulled up beside the verge. Roger sat up, ears forward. Giles shot him a grin and both of them made their way to the car.
“Well hello boys.”
Giles and Roger halted as the driver opened the passenger door. It was a woman. A woman with grey hair and male patterned baldness.
“Can I offer you two handsome gentlemen a ride?” she asked.
“Er...” Roger made a nervous sound and Giles looked at him for a moment. The driver leaned out and patted the passenger seat.
“Come on, I don’t bite,” she drawled.
Hesitantly, Giles slid into the passenger seat, while Roger Junior climbed into the back of the car. The driver carefully pulled away from the verge.
“Thank you for stopping, Ms...?”
“Garrison,” the driver replied. “Mrs. Garrison.” She glanced at Giles and continued, “I’m a widower - widow! I mean widow.” She reached down to change gears and brushed her hand against Giles’ leg. “What’s your name?”
“Rupert,” Giles replied uncomfortably.
“And your...companion?” Mrs. Garrison asked, glancing at Roger in the rear view mirror.
“Roger,” Giles answered.
“Right, right,” Mrs. Garrison murmured. She glided into the overtaking lane. “You know, I don’t normally pick up hitch-hikers. You hear such horror stories.”
Giles gave a nervous laugh. “Yes.”
“I mean, for all I know, you two are planning to steal my car and have your way with me,” Mrs. Garrison continued.
Giles started and stared at her. In the back, Roger made a distressed sound and tensed.
“Your pal could put his hands around my neck and make me pull over,” Mrs. Garrison went on, “and then you could force me down into the wet grass and take turns plunging into my soft, supple body, one after the other, gagging me with your hot, throbbing phallus so I don’t scream...”
Giles looked around at Roger Junior. The joey’s brown eyes were filled with terror.
“Do it!” Mrs. Garrison shouted. “Do it, take what you want, make me your willing slave!”
“Now!”
Giles opened the door and flung himself out of the car, tucking and rolling as he hit the asphalt. Roger was right behind him.
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Mrs. Garrison yelled.
Giles grabbed Roger’s wrist and pulled him up. He looked back up the road and saw Mrs. Garrison make a reckless U-turn, pulling up onto the verge.
“Come back here and violate me, you assholes!”
As the green car began to speed towards them, the air was shattered by a blast from a truck’s horn. Giles and Roger turned back and saw a red semi truck bearing down on them. Roger grabbed Giles and leapt for the verge just as the truck skidded to a stop.
The cab door opened.
“Get in!”
Before Giles could make a decision, Roger pushed him into the cab and slammed the door shut. Giles looked out the window as the truck began to pull away. Mrs. Garrison had swerved to avoid it and was stuck on the grass verge, wheels spinning uselessly in the mud. He turned back to thank their rescuer and yelped when he saw there was no-one in the driver’s seat.
“Are you both unharmed?”
The voice seemed to come from all around them.
“Y...yes,” Giles replied. He edged forward on his seat, looking around the cab. “Who - who are you?”
The voice chuckled. “I’m Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots.”
Giles frowned. The name rang a bell. Wasn’t - wasn’t Andrew forever raving about those things? Toy robots that turned into cars?
“I...” He licked his lips, trying to overcome his bewilderment. “I thought you were...” He looked at his travelling companion - a sentient, boxing kangaroo. Why not a talking robot truck? “...never mind.”
“Well, I hope you learned a valuable lesson,” Prime declared. “Never accept rides from strangers. You don’t know what their intentions are. They could be doing a kind deed. They could be a kidnapper. Or worse - a child molester.”
Roger made a noise of agreement.
“And knowing is half the battle,” Prime finished. “Now where can I drop you off?”
“We’re, ah, we’re trying to get to California,” Giles managed. The whole situation felt incredibly surreal. He wondered if he should pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He rubbed his shoulder - the road rash he’d picked up felt real enough.
“Well, I’m not going that far, but I’m headed in the right direction,” Prime replied. “How about some music? Do you guys like Stan Bush?”
TO BE CONTINUED...?
-^)--)~
Backround: Giles (from Buffy) and Roger Junior (from Tekken 5) are making their way across America together. Financial troubles mean they're stuck hitch-hiking. NWS; contains a rape fantasy.
---
Giles walked slowly backwards along the grass verge, thumb pointing up the highway, gazing hopefully at the cars whizzing past. He wasn’t keen on hitch-hiking, but one look at Roger Junior told him that they had no choice. The little kangaroo looked tired and fed up. Probably hungry and missing his parents, too.
A car flew past, too close for comfort, and splashed muddy water all over Giles’ trousers. He cursed and flipped the driver off in frustration. If people weren’t going to stop for him, they could at least stop for Roger.
He turned back to his young companion and attempted a smile.
“Don’t worry.” He scratched Roger behind his ears. “Someone will stop soon.”
As if on cue, a small green car pulled up beside the verge. Roger sat up, ears forward. Giles shot him a grin and both of them made their way to the car.
“Well hello boys.”
Giles and Roger halted as the driver opened the passenger door. It was a woman. A woman with grey hair and male patterned baldness.
“Can I offer you two handsome gentlemen a ride?” she asked.
“Er...” Roger made a nervous sound and Giles looked at him for a moment. The driver leaned out and patted the passenger seat.
“Come on, I don’t bite,” she drawled.
Hesitantly, Giles slid into the passenger seat, while Roger Junior climbed into the back of the car. The driver carefully pulled away from the verge.
“Thank you for stopping, Ms...?”
“Garrison,” the driver replied. “Mrs. Garrison.” She glanced at Giles and continued, “I’m a widower - widow! I mean widow.” She reached down to change gears and brushed her hand against Giles’ leg. “What’s your name?”
“Rupert,” Giles replied uncomfortably.
“And your...companion?” Mrs. Garrison asked, glancing at Roger in the rear view mirror.
“Roger,” Giles answered.
“Right, right,” Mrs. Garrison murmured. She glided into the overtaking lane. “You know, I don’t normally pick up hitch-hikers. You hear such horror stories.”
Giles gave a nervous laugh. “Yes.”
“I mean, for all I know, you two are planning to steal my car and have your way with me,” Mrs. Garrison continued.
Giles started and stared at her. In the back, Roger made a distressed sound and tensed.
“Your pal could put his hands around my neck and make me pull over,” Mrs. Garrison went on, “and then you could force me down into the wet grass and take turns plunging into my soft, supple body, one after the other, gagging me with your hot, throbbing phallus so I don’t scream...”
Giles looked around at Roger Junior. The joey’s brown eyes were filled with terror.
“Do it!” Mrs. Garrison shouted. “Do it, take what you want, make me your willing slave!”
“Now!”
Giles opened the door and flung himself out of the car, tucking and rolling as he hit the asphalt. Roger was right behind him.
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Mrs. Garrison yelled.
Giles grabbed Roger’s wrist and pulled him up. He looked back up the road and saw Mrs. Garrison make a reckless U-turn, pulling up onto the verge.
“Come back here and violate me, you assholes!”
As the green car began to speed towards them, the air was shattered by a blast from a truck’s horn. Giles and Roger turned back and saw a red semi truck bearing down on them. Roger grabbed Giles and leapt for the verge just as the truck skidded to a stop.
The cab door opened.
“Get in!”
Before Giles could make a decision, Roger pushed him into the cab and slammed the door shut. Giles looked out the window as the truck began to pull away. Mrs. Garrison had swerved to avoid it and was stuck on the grass verge, wheels spinning uselessly in the mud. He turned back to thank their rescuer and yelped when he saw there was no-one in the driver’s seat.
“Are you both unharmed?”
The voice seemed to come from all around them.
“Y...yes,” Giles replied. He edged forward on his seat, looking around the cab. “Who - who are you?”
The voice chuckled. “I’m Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots.”
Giles frowned. The name rang a bell. Wasn’t - wasn’t Andrew forever raving about those things? Toy robots that turned into cars?
“I...” He licked his lips, trying to overcome his bewilderment. “I thought you were...” He looked at his travelling companion - a sentient, boxing kangaroo. Why not a talking robot truck? “...never mind.”
“Well, I hope you learned a valuable lesson,” Prime declared. “Never accept rides from strangers. You don’t know what their intentions are. They could be doing a kind deed. They could be a kidnapper. Or worse - a child molester.”
Roger made a noise of agreement.
“And knowing is half the battle,” Prime finished. “Now where can I drop you off?”
“We’re, ah, we’re trying to get to California,” Giles managed. The whole situation felt incredibly surreal. He wondered if he should pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He rubbed his shoulder - the road rash he’d picked up felt real enough.
“Well, I’m not going that far, but I’m headed in the right direction,” Prime replied. “How about some music? Do you guys like Stan Bush?”
TO BE CONTINUED...?
-^)--)~