Almost to the yaoi.....I think
More Dax, and cursing. Warnings for language.
Have I mentioned I love Jak? In a totally nonsexual, as of yet way? Cause I do, he's my bestest friend, eternal companion, soul mate destined by stars and fate and all that mushy nonsense. I love him.
And right now I want to tie his ears together and shove a flashlight up his nose to see if there's anything at all filling that vacuous cavity of his scull.
You'd think if a guy saved the world, battled monsters of unspeakable stupidity, went through time and survived the likes of Praxis and his high holy gayness Erol, he'd maaaaaybe be smart enough to comprehend the notion that his best friend was a bit peeved at him!
I mean, what here is hard to get? The world is okay! It's not great, but it's okay, it's not in any danger of exploding or imploding or being hit with giant rocks from the sky! There is no *sane* reason to be out there running around and getting shot at just cause miss priss with the dreds and her anal retentive stick figure boy toy can't round up anyone suicidal enough to join their police keeping justicy task force of cannon fodder. Anyone *else* anyway.
This is the perfect time to sit back, relax, and watch the racers kill each other needlessly for fun and plot nurseries and baby showers.
Of course, that would be a lot easier of someone around here would get knocked up already. Come on people, it's not rocket science! One of you is a mechanic and the other takes people apart in interesting ways when totally pissed. Can't you figure it out already?
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, Jak's an idiot! I love him but I hate it when we go out there for no reason to get fired at with rockets and bombs and land mines for a trophy we don't need and money we won't use and really, for what? To satisfy the adrenaline junky? My adrenaline is fine! And before you even *think* about me staying behind at the bar while Jak goes out there and risks his hide I got two words for you: MY JAK.
Can't comprehend? It means where blondy goes, I go, even if I have to strap myself to the damned roof cause there's only one seat and hanging to his shoulder at mach one fifty is a Really Bad Idea. So yeah, I'm pissed. I *don't* want to go out there, and I *don't* want to risk my neck and I reeeally *don't* want to get shot at some *more*.
But Jak is going. So I'm going. Which of us is the dumber species here? And if that floozy with the knife fetish tries something on my boy again I'm gonna go dig up my old fly swatter and see how many jolts that pontificating freak can handle before he pisses his pants.
Have I mentioned I love Jak? In a totally nonsexual, as of yet way? Cause I do, he's my bestest friend, eternal companion, soul mate destined by stars and fate and all that mushy nonsense. I love him.
And right now I want to tie his ears together and shove a flashlight up his nose to see if there's anything at all filling that vacuous cavity of his scull.
You'd think if a guy saved the world, battled monsters of unspeakable stupidity, went through time and survived the likes of Praxis and his high holy gayness Erol, he'd maaaaaybe be smart enough to comprehend the notion that his best friend was a bit peeved at him!
I mean, what here is hard to get? The world is okay! It's not great, but it's okay, it's not in any danger of exploding or imploding or being hit with giant rocks from the sky! There is no *sane* reason to be out there running around and getting shot at just cause miss priss with the dreds and her anal retentive stick figure boy toy can't round up anyone suicidal enough to join their police keeping justicy task force of cannon fodder. Anyone *else* anyway.
This is the perfect time to sit back, relax, and watch the racers kill each other needlessly for fun and plot nurseries and baby showers.
Of course, that would be a lot easier of someone around here would get knocked up already. Come on people, it's not rocket science! One of you is a mechanic and the other takes people apart in interesting ways when totally pissed. Can't you figure it out already?
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, Jak's an idiot! I love him but I hate it when we go out there for no reason to get fired at with rockets and bombs and land mines for a trophy we don't need and money we won't use and really, for what? To satisfy the adrenaline junky? My adrenaline is fine! And before you even *think* about me staying behind at the bar while Jak goes out there and risks his hide I got two words for you: MY JAK.
Can't comprehend? It means where blondy goes, I go, even if I have to strap myself to the damned roof cause there's only one seat and hanging to his shoulder at mach one fifty is a Really Bad Idea. So yeah, I'm pissed. I *don't* want to go out there, and I *don't* want to risk my neck and I reeeally *don't* want to get shot at some *more*.
But Jak is going. So I'm going. Which of us is the dumber species here? And if that floozy with the knife fetish tries something on my boy again I'm gonna go dig up my old fly swatter and see how many jolts that pontificating freak can handle before he pisses his pants.