Jonathan had the nerve to look offended. "Hey, that's rude. Is it my fault I watch the Discovery channel? Besides," he pointed to the trolley and returned his glare, "who the fuck knows about famous carvings, huh?" His voice grew louder, "CARVINGS, EWAN. NOT PAINTINGS. WHO KNOWS CARVINGS ANYMORE?" He sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Well, come on," he resolutely took the dolly and wheeled it down the alley. "I just don't understand it," he said, more to himself than to Ewan. "The prizes before weren't...well, they weren't this. Christ!" he grew agitated. "It was supposed to be a free catered party from Hooters. But this?" He shook his head and continued mumbling. "It must be because it's a weekend. I can't think of any other explanation." He tilted his head at Ewan, "Well obviously we have to take this to your place cos er...I don't have a refrigerator." He looked a little shifty and quickly changed the subject, "I doubt we could even pay anyone to take these crates away. Who the fuck would want meat that's not sealed in plastics?" Suddenly, an idea occurred to him. "Oi," he turned to him, "why don't you check, yeah? If everything’s sealed and packed nicely, we can sell this and try to recoup the cash we spent on pints, yeah?"
Ewan had to laugh at Jonathan’s little melt down. This was all so ridiculous, how could he help himself? Pressing his hand against the side of the building for a moment, he shook his head. "Like you said, I totally guessed at that one! I think you guessed that last one, too. But you just had to guess right." That struck his as funny again and he started laughing harder. Ewan stopped abruptly when Jonathan started in on selling their meat. "You know, that's not a half bad idea." Ewan knew immediately that he was really too drunk to be making any decisions, but pawning meat off on someone sounded like the only possible solution to their problem. Dropping to the ground, he pulled open one of the Styrofoam containers. Unfortunately all that seemed to be in there were piles of ground hamburger. The smell was overwhelming and Ewan had to stand up quickly. "Oh my god. That is awful." Plugging his nose to keep from having a vom, he looked to Jonathan. "You know, there is this terrible little diner that would probably take this shit and feed it to people. Do you think that could work?"
I've heard gold is the new gold.j_rhysmeyersJuly 24 2006, 02:25:10 UTC
The raw meet reek wafted up and nearly overwhelmed him. Jonathan held back a gag and had to look away before he lost all the pints he had that evening. "Jesus Christ," he swore, waving his arm around in a fanning motion in an attempt to get it away from him. He knew he was going to smell like a slaughter house the rest of the night. "I don't know," he coughed, his eyes watering and turning red. "Do you think they're that fucking desperate? For fuck's sake, they didn't even pack any ice that I could see. What're people supposed to do? Run home and cook a million burgers or something?" He started forward, stumbling over a pile of trash and reaching out to the trolley to catch his balance.
It could've been a scene from a movie. They both watched in horror as the top crate teetered on the edge then tipped over upside down, the lid coming off and all the meat falling out with a loud wet plop all over Jonathan’s expensive, custom made boots he bought on a drunken holiday in El Paso.
To match the boots, of course.mcgregor_ewanJuly 24 2006, 02:25:44 UTC
The world went into slow motion from the time Jonathan tripped to when the meat spilled out over his shoes. Ewan’s mouth dropped and he tried to make a dive for the container, but to no avail. He looked from the meat, to Jonathan’s terrified expression and then back to the meat again. "Fuck!" Although he started laughing hysterically, Ewan felt awful for Jonathan and started looking around frantically for anything that could help get the meat off of his boots. Pulling his shirt up over his nose so that the smell of spoiling meat wouldn't make him lose his stomach, he located a discarded newspaper and pulled it out of its sleeve. Looking directly at him, he said very calmly, even though he was still chuckling, "Okay. Okay. Just step back so that you're not swimming in beef and just calm. Remain calm.”
Ewan thought Jonathan looked like he was either going to cry or run away screaming protests against every cow in the world. Bending down, he used the newspapers as impromptu gloves and clumsily tried to scoop the remaining meat from the cuffs of his pants. "We have to find somewhere to dump the rest of this, Jonathan. If you puke, then I will puke and if I puke I'm not going to stop puking." On his hands and knees at the mouth of the alley, it didn’t even remotely occur to him that this looked extremely shady. Of course it was at that moment a couple happened by. Ewan didn’t hear them say in disgust, “See? All those actor types are the same. I told you that Goldmine film stood true to reality! That’s what everyone on the internet says!”
Standing up again, his hands now smelled like a meat factory, which made him shudder involuntarily. "What about a homeless shelter. Would they take it? Do they homeless care if they eat spoiled food?!"
That was nine years ago. It's time to let it go.j_rhysmeyersJuly 24 2006, 02:28:10 UTC
He held absolutely still with a stiff posture which made him look as though he'd gone into catatonic shock. He stared with wide eyes and took huge gulping breaths in an effort to remain calm. “These were my favourites,” he said mournfully, giving his prized possession a heartbroken look. “I bought them with my Bend It Like Beckham cheque.” In the back of his mind, he resolved to send Ewan a huge fucking present for getting the evil moo away from him.
"No," he shook his head, "no we have to sell it." He was resolute. If they were both covered in meat, then they should damn well be paid for it. He closed his eyes and shook off his overwhelming revulsion before glancing over to find his looking at his hands with a disgusted expression. He tilted his head and glanced at his watch, reaching into his pocket almost absently and pulling out a little mini bottle of hand sanitizer. It wasn't that he was a hypochondriac. It only looked that way. "Here," he said, gathering up all his inner strength and kicking his foot out, slinging small bits of bloody ground hamburger against the opposite wall. "Okay, let's try the diner first and if not, then we're about to have our first taste of selling contraband meat on the London black market exchange." Suddenly, he saw the humour of the situation and he snorted. "Ha. I feel like we should have on trench coats or something."
It's not me, it's those damn message boards.mcgregor_ewanJuly 24 2006, 02:29:52 UTC
Arching a brow at the sanitizer, he took it without question. It was obviously one of those weird Jonathan quirks he would never understand. Flipping open the cap he squeezed a generous amount out into his palm and then held out the little bottle for him to take again. Squishing the liquid through his fingers, it didn't seem to be doing much for the sticky feeling, but at this point Ewan was unphased. He was just waiting for what tragic accident would happen next. "Okay. We'll leave this crate here because I am not sticking my hands inside of anymore meat for the rest of my life and we'll try the diner. If not then we'll hit up the park drive and we'll start asking those people that sell fake purses and watches if they know where we could pawn off some meat. You grab the dolly and I'll make sure that none of it falls off again, okay?" As they started down the alley again, he was heaving laughter along with Jonathan. "If we can't get the diner to buy from us, we're totally going to have to get trench coats along the way." Shaking his head, he was at a loss for how they got into this mess. "Meyers, this has to be against the law. They can't shove dirty meat off as a prize, can they?!"
You should see what they say on the German boards.j_rhysmeyersJuly 24 2006, 02:31:50 UTC
Jonathan was right alongside with him, shaking his head as they turned out of the alley and followed the pavement. "I guess they can do anything they please since they gave it away free?" And predictably, anything wrong that could go wrong did. One of the wheels on the trolley shrieked in protest and started veering off in a completely different direction, making it difficult to keep pushing silently forward. Now they were subjected to the sound of nails scratching across a chalkboard as they wheeled along. He pretended nothing was wrong. "How much do you reckon we can get from all this?" He eyed the remaining five crates as he pushed. "I have reason to believe this is more than sixteen stone, man. Fucking hell, I’m already winded!”
I've blocked my computer from ever bringing up the word "shiza".mcgregor_ewanJuly 24 2006, 02:32:59 UTC
Glancing at the dolly, Ewan tried to ignore the sound it was making as well. He was a bit afraid that it would break on them, so he stepped a little behind Jonathan in case he had to stop one of the crates from spilling over again. With a slight arch of his brow, Ewan shook his head at him. "I think it is sixteen stone, you’ve just stopped working out like a fool and your arms are going back to normal. Do you want me to pull it instead?" He had to say this loud enough to go over the sound of metal against pavement and a few people that were walking by them had a chuckle at their expense and then caught the smell of half rotten meat and quickly walked away. Without waiting for an answer Ewan took the dolly from Jonathan and immediately almost dropped it. "Okay, you're right. This is more than sixteen stone. Maybe if we wheel it together..." Pondering the price of meat these days, he thought out loud. "Well, a pound of ground hamburger is like what? Five quid?" Ewan really had no idea, but he would pretend. “If there's nineteen stone of meat left here, we could get, what? £1250?" Totally unrealistic for spoiled goods, but he was too gone to care. Of course that is when one of the wheels hit a rock and sent a crate of meat flying into the side of someone’s car." Watching it go, Ewan stated, "Okay so sixteen stone it is."
Reply
Reply
It could've been a scene from a movie. They both watched in horror as the top crate teetered on the edge then tipped over upside down, the lid coming off and all the meat falling out with a loud wet plop all over Jonathan’s expensive, custom made boots he bought on a drunken holiday in El Paso.
Reply
Ewan thought Jonathan looked like he was either going to cry or run away screaming protests against every cow in the world. Bending down, he used the newspapers as impromptu gloves and clumsily tried to scoop the remaining meat from the cuffs of his pants. "We have to find somewhere to dump the rest of this, Jonathan. If you puke, then I will puke and if I puke I'm not going to stop puking." On his hands and knees at the mouth of the alley, it didn’t even remotely occur to him that this looked extremely shady. Of course it was at that moment a couple happened by. Ewan didn’t hear them say in disgust, “See? All those actor types are the same. I told you that Goldmine film stood true to reality! That’s what everyone on the internet says!”
Standing up again, his hands now smelled like a meat factory, which made him shudder involuntarily. "What about a homeless shelter. Would they take it? Do they homeless care if they eat spoiled food?!"
Reply
"No," he shook his head, "no we have to sell it." He was resolute. If they were both covered in meat, then they should damn well be paid for it. He closed his eyes and shook off his overwhelming revulsion before glancing over to find his looking at his hands with a disgusted expression. He tilted his head and glanced at his watch, reaching into his pocket almost absently and pulling out a little mini bottle of hand sanitizer. It wasn't that he was a hypochondriac. It only looked that way. "Here," he said, gathering up all his inner strength and kicking his foot out, slinging small bits of bloody ground hamburger against the opposite wall. "Okay, let's try the diner first and if not, then we're about to have our first taste of selling contraband meat on the London black market exchange." Suddenly, he saw the humour of the situation and he snorted. "Ha. I feel like we should have on trench coats or something."
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment