Day 7: "First-hand Account" (Nursery Rhymes, Mice, R)
Title: First-hand Account
Fandom: Nursery Rhymes (WHAT?)
Characters: Mice
Rating: R
Words: ~600
A/N: Typo comments still okay.
First-hand Account
"It all started in--hey, Mickey! What year was that?" The first said with a nudge at his neighbor, who scowled. I waited, pen at the ready.
"Don't fucking call me that! Too much association."
"Heh. Gets his goat every time. All right, all right, Mick. What year?"
"Before the fire, that's sure," said the third. "Mort, when was the big fire that got Ma?"
"Aught-three, if I rightly recollect," said Mort. "So it musta been aught-two. Long time ago, and us not exactly spring chickens any more. Aught-two. Along about February, wasn't it?"
"Nah. Windows was open. Hadda been spring," interjected Mick, who had picked up his cane and was turning it in his fingers, spinning it on the ground. "Remember? We could hear the girls outside?"
"Ohhhh right," Mort agreed. "That was the whole problem, wasn't it? Getting hard to keep track, any more, what with the way it all fell out. Can't hardly check the papers, now, can I? Eh, but I'm getting sidetracked. So, spring, then, windows open, and me and Milo, we get to thinkin'."
"Don't know as it was thinking so much as just acting," Milo argued from the end of the bench.
"Whatever. Be still and let me tell it. There was lilacs. Remember the lilacs, Mick?"
"Yeah, Lilacs and girls. Potent combination."
"Right. And what was we gonna do? Myra'd said we come back sniffing around again, they'd send Marco after us, and there we was, desperate-like."
"Course, inna grand scheme Marco might'a been better, if the sniffing had led--"
"Hush up, Milo. He gets it, don'tcha, bub?" I nodded, and he went on. "So, it was harmless enough, right? Lean back, close our eyes, paws between our legs to stroke just right, slow then faster and slow again…"
"What are you, telling a porno?" Mick shook his head. "What it was, was we was self-pleasuring on account of, Myra and Melanie out there, giggling and with them pretty pink bows…"
"Mick! You remember the bows?"
"Last thing I was concentrating on, Mort. Can't stop seeing 'em. But, go on, your story."
"Now you've all but told it, and thank you very much for taking away the dramatic impact. Anyway. Mick came in midway, and he could see what we was about, so he joined right in, easy as you please."
"Easy? I'd say it was hard!"
"Pervert. So, Ma had told us what would happen, but, ai, teenagers. Immortal, you know. So, it was Milo finished first, dripping on the fur of his belly, and then he lay there, eyes closed and a big grin and that was all it took to send me over, watching him all satisfied."
"And then Mort said something about his eyes," Mick added, "But I was too far gone to listen."
"Right. And there we was, three blind mice. Ma was so disappointed in us."
Milo waited a moment to let that sink in, then smiled and stood, slowly sweeping the cane wide around him. "But she got over it eventually. And I know what the next question you gonna ask is," he said.
"Oh?" I was busily scribbling down their words.
"Yeah. You're gonna ask, was it worth it. And I tell you what, it was. Now? We got nothing but free time, and what's the worst is gonna happen, we lie around all day considering Myra and Mel? Nothing. We're already blind. The tail thing, that was a fluke, so it's been a good life, all but that."
Mick and Mort straightened their jaunty hats and tipped them good day, and then all three set off along the sidewalk toward the field.
It'd be a short piece, just a little mousian interest, but my editor was going to be pleased.
Fandom: Nursery Rhymes (WHAT?)
Characters: Mice
Rating: R
Words: ~600
A/N: Typo comments still okay.
First-hand Account
"It all started in--hey, Mickey! What year was that?" The first said with a nudge at his neighbor, who scowled. I waited, pen at the ready.
"Don't fucking call me that! Too much association."
"Heh. Gets his goat every time. All right, all right, Mick. What year?"
"Before the fire, that's sure," said the third. "Mort, when was the big fire that got Ma?"
"Aught-three, if I rightly recollect," said Mort. "So it musta been aught-two. Long time ago, and us not exactly spring chickens any more. Aught-two. Along about February, wasn't it?"
"Nah. Windows was open. Hadda been spring," interjected Mick, who had picked up his cane and was turning it in his fingers, spinning it on the ground. "Remember? We could hear the girls outside?"
"Ohhhh right," Mort agreed. "That was the whole problem, wasn't it? Getting hard to keep track, any more, what with the way it all fell out. Can't hardly check the papers, now, can I? Eh, but I'm getting sidetracked. So, spring, then, windows open, and me and Milo, we get to thinkin'."
"Don't know as it was thinking so much as just acting," Milo argued from the end of the bench.
"Whatever. Be still and let me tell it. There was lilacs. Remember the lilacs, Mick?"
"Yeah, Lilacs and girls. Potent combination."
"Right. And what was we gonna do? Myra'd said we come back sniffing around again, they'd send Marco after us, and there we was, desperate-like."
"Course, inna grand scheme Marco might'a been better, if the sniffing had led--"
"Hush up, Milo. He gets it, don'tcha, bub?" I nodded, and he went on. "So, it was harmless enough, right? Lean back, close our eyes, paws between our legs to stroke just right, slow then faster and slow again…"
"What are you, telling a porno?" Mick shook his head. "What it was, was we was self-pleasuring on account of, Myra and Melanie out there, giggling and with them pretty pink bows…"
"Mick! You remember the bows?"
"Last thing I was concentrating on, Mort. Can't stop seeing 'em. But, go on, your story."
"Now you've all but told it, and thank you very much for taking away the dramatic impact. Anyway. Mick came in midway, and he could see what we was about, so he joined right in, easy as you please."
"Easy? I'd say it was hard!"
"Pervert. So, Ma had told us what would happen, but, ai, teenagers. Immortal, you know. So, it was Milo finished first, dripping on the fur of his belly, and then he lay there, eyes closed and a big grin and that was all it took to send me over, watching him all satisfied."
"And then Mort said something about his eyes," Mick added, "But I was too far gone to listen."
"Right. And there we was, three blind mice. Ma was so disappointed in us."
Milo waited a moment to let that sink in, then smiled and stood, slowly sweeping the cane wide around him. "But she got over it eventually. And I know what the next question you gonna ask is," he said.
"Oh?" I was busily scribbling down their words.
"Yeah. You're gonna ask, was it worth it. And I tell you what, it was. Now? We got nothing but free time, and what's the worst is gonna happen, we lie around all day considering Myra and Mel? Nothing. We're already blind. The tail thing, that was a fluke, so it's been a good life, all but that."
Mick and Mort straightened their jaunty hats and tipped them good day, and then all three set off along the sidewalk toward the field.
It'd be a short piece, just a little mousian interest, but my editor was going to be pleased.