strawberry banana 4 | green tea 17 | strawberry 30 + chocolate 3 + vanilla 22
artist: Frances J./Meep
title: the wrong man to mess with
verse: Jazz Remix (1920s, canon)
prompt: strawberry banana #4: bad news
rating: G
word count: 470
summary: A stranger tries to hassle Tristan and Koji. Tristan has other plans.
note: some homophobic language
"Hey, you couple of queers!"
Koji glanced over his shoulder towards the source of the noise. Tristan continued down the sidewalk as though he hadn't heard anything, although he tightened his grip on his cane.
"Yeah, you two faggots."
"Tristan, I think he means us," said Koji.
"I'm married," said Tristan, shrugging.
"Yeah to yer wife who looks like a dude an' her pretty girlfriend, an' anyway how d'ya think he's gonna know that?" asked Koji, but Tristan still kept going.
It didn't take long for their would-be assailant to catch up to them. He reached out and grabbed Tristan by the shoulder. Tristan turned around to face him with a friendly smile that gave Koji the creeps. "You wouldn't mug a cripple, would you?"
Tristan put a hand on the stranger's shoulder, a friendly gesture. Then, with no warning, he dug his fingers into the man's collar and Koji, well versed in criminality, saw what he intended to do only an instant before he did it. Their would-be assailant wasn't so lucky, disarmed by Tristan's unassuming posture, friendly tone and expensive suit.
Tristan dragged him down with his free hand, and drove his cane into the soft place under his ribs. For a moment, Koji saw an almost murderous gleam in his eye as the stranger dropped, wheezing for breath. Tristan hit him again, across the side of the head, and he collapsed. Tristan let him fall, brushed off his sleeves and fixed his hat. He turned to Koji with a strange little grin.
"Come on," he said. "We're going to need whatever head start we can get."
He limped away, and Koji hurried after him after standing for a moment, stunned.
"I hadn't seen my wife in four years," said Tristan, although this explained anything. He turned down an alleyway and Koji followed, hands jammed in his pockets. While his mind raced for a way to talk them out of trouble, Tristan had just assaulted a stranger and walked away calmly.
"Yeah, and?" asked Koji, catching up to him easily.
"I'm not going to end up in the harbor," said Tristan.
"Like last time?" asked Koji, giving Tristan a sidelong glance. Suddenly he seemed a lot more like Mariel's husband, and the kind of man who might fake his own death and come back in through Ellis Island with a slew of forged paperwork from no fewer than six different countries.
Tristan stopped. Koji almost walked into him. "Something like last time," he agreed. He started walking again, weirdly calm.
"D'ya always get inta fights like that?" asked Koji. "Seems more like yer wife's thing. No offense."
"Only when other people start it," said Tristan. "The difference, I think, between myself and Mariel." He nodded towards Koji, who rubbed his crooked nose. Tristan limped back out towards the main street.
artist: Frances J./Meep
title: Drink Your ($%^&) Tea
verse: Ballad Remix (fantasy, alternate universe)
prompt: green tea #17: tea time (+ topping: chopped nuts)
rating: PG-13/R
word count: 1038
summary: Silas and Koji are sick after a night spent out in the rain. Aya takes care of them.
Although Silas and Mariel were anxious to return home to their families, the travelers remained at the inn even as the sun began to set again. Mariel readied their packs and went out into town for supplies; the money awarded to them up-front more than covered their journey home, so they could afford an extra night at the inn, and good food to eat for the remaining journey. Aya remained behind, hovering anxiously over Koji and Silas, who both lay in bed.
While the two women slept in the comfort of the hospitable Sisters' abbey, Koji and Silas slept outside in a rainstorm. Now they were both sneezing and miserable. Koji snuggled up to Silas for warmth, and Silas didn't object. Despite the season, the further north they traveled on their return journey, the chillier the weather became and Koji and Aya, from the much warmer south, felt it especially. Wether Silas was doting on his sleepy husband or because he enjoyed Koji's presence, Aya couldn't tell as she hurried off down the stairs to bring them more hot, herbal tea.
Koji immediately took advantage of her absence and narrowed his eyes with delight. "She's nice an' all," he said, "but I don't feel proper doin' this in fronna uh lady."
He shifted himself a little more on top of Silas, and slid his hands, chastely above blankets while Aya fretted, down lower. Silas shifted to allow Koji's hands to go where they wanted, and gave him a quick kiss. He hesitated, not knowing how long Aya would take to bring them tea, but when Koji made him gasp aloud, he moved his own hands to return the favor.
Koji straddled Silas, purring- or trying to purr. Instead, he sneezed violently several times. Silas laughed, but his laugh turned into a cough. Giggling, Koji rested his forehead against Silas's collarbone, sliding one hand up Silas's side, around to his back. He ran his fingertips up Silas's spine, and Silas shivered. Koji gave him an appreciative kiss, and touched Silas's spine again. Silas's hands, meanwhile, stayed a little further south. Koji moved his hands lower down again when the door creaked open.
Too late, they both jerked away from each other, but Aya had seen enough.
"Oh!" Aya nearly dropped the tray she carried with their mugs steaming. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize you were busy."
Later, Koji would swear he saw a sparkle of amusement - and understanding - in Aya's eyes as she hurried from the room, but at the time, he couldn't think rational thoughts, torn between the need to get some space between himself and his husband, and the need to not get some space between himself and his husband. The door squeaked closed behind her while both Silas and Koji lay in bed. Aya's footsteps down the wooden stairs were barely audible over the sound of their breathing.
"So," whispered Koji, after awhile. "Where did we leave off?"
"I think your hands were…" Silas trailed off, but Koji understood what he meant, as Silas demonstrated. Koji arched his back, and then sneezed again.
After the exploits of the night before last, it felt nice to lay in a warm, soft bed. Koji and Silas took advantage of the lazy afternoon, mostly alone, to kiss and touch sleepily, but not vigorously. Mariel had muttered something about not wanting to get sick herself before hurrying out into the marketplace; she and Aya slept in the room next door, and Silas doubted she would disturb them. This close to home, she wouldn't want to catch an illness she might pass on to her already sickly husband.
Aya by now just knew better.
Koji lowered himself so he lay beside Silas again, both of them face-to-face. They tangled their legs together, Koji running his foot seductively up and down Silas's calf. Silas gave an appreciative sigh, and rewarded Koji with an affectionate nuzzle and ran his thumb down Koji's jaw.
As much as Koji would have liked a little more action, his body felt stiff and sore - and not in a good way. "M'head hurts," he groaned, feeling decidedly unsexy, despite his proximity to his husband, the rare time alone together with no rush to get going, and Silas's thigh between his legs.
"Drink your tea," suggested Silas. "Lady Aya went through so much … hassle to fetch it for us." Koji groaned; the tea tasted foul and burned his throat, although he did have to admit it made him feel a little better after his dose that morning. "She's a lady, not a maid," insisted Silas. "The least we could do to thank her is actually drink it."
Somehow Koji got the idea that Aya running downstairs to bring them tea wasn't what Silas felt so apologetic about, but he still dragged himself upright and took one of the mugs in his hands. He blew on it, but it already cooled. Without any excuses to procrastinate, he wrinkled his nose and downed as much as possible in one go. He drank most of it, but sputtered at the end, unable to quench his disgust.
Silas patted him on the back while he coughed. Choking on the tea soon turned into a hacking cough, deep in his chest. Koji rubbed his eyes. "I don' feel good," he groaned, hugging his knees. His chest hurt, his back twinged with pain, and he could feel a headache creeping up around the edges of his consciousness. Silas heard a hint of desperation in Koji's voice, and pulled him back down to lay beside him.
"Get some rest," he suggested, hugging his husband. He rested his chin on the top of Koji's head. Koji snuggled up closer, and fell into a fitful sleep. Despite the aching cough in his chest and his stuffy head and sore throat, Koji fell asleep feeling mostly content with the world. Silas holding him close while he dozed, Aya clucking and fretting, even Mariel running all of their errands; they had become his family, and now that the dragon was dead behind them, Koji felt for the first time that he had nothing to fear.
artist: Frances J./Meep
title: Pillow Talk
verse: Party Remix (college, alternate universe)
prompt: strawberry #30: pillow + chocolate #3: sympathy + vanilla #22: gossip/a rumor (+ topping: chopped nuts)
rating: G
word count: 823
summary: Mariel and Tristan discuss her love life.
note: light use of homophobic and ableist slurs jokingly between friends, joking reference to suicidal ideation (both established within their relationship as "acceptable targets")
"How's things with Aya?" asked Tristan, leaning back against the screen of Mariel's window, open to let in the late summer breeze.
"Oh, I don't know," said Mariel, her voice muffled. Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Only, you know, wonderful."
"So why are you trying to smother yourself with a pillow?" he asked, nudging her with his cane. She swatted him away without looking, or removing the pillow.
Mariel lay flopped back on her bed, legs dangling over the edge. "I thought it might be faster than smoking."
"Probably," agreed Tristan. "Speaking of, mind if I do?"
"Yeah, whatever." Mariel waved a hand vaguely at Tristan in a way that came no closer to answering his question. He gave her an inquisitive look, but she couldn't see him, still holding her pillow over her face.
"Yeah you mind," he asked, "or yeah, I can smoke one?"
"Nah I don't mind, yeah you can smoke one."
Tristan used his cane to reach over for the satchel he dropped on Mariel's desk chair on the way in. He dug out a pack and a lighter and lit himself a cigarette. When Mariel didn't toss aside her pillow and immediately bum one off of him, he started to get concerned.
"Wait, are you actually trying to smother yourself?" he asked, tugging at a corner of the pillow. She peered out at him with eyes narrowed.
"No." Mariel groaned and pulled herself upright next to him. He offered her a cigarette, unlit. She smiled and stuck it in her mouth. He leaned across the bed and lit hers from his own with a grin.
"So if everything's so wonderful, lovebird, why the full ashtray and the pillow and still in your pajamas at," Tristan checked his watch for emphasis, "three in the afternoon."
"I'm wearing jeans," said Mariel.
"Which you slept in, Mariel. I know you too well for that," said Tristan. She grumbled a touché. "Stop avoiding the question. Things are going well, and you're reading The Well of Loneliness," he said, picking it up from her nightstand. "Again." He tossed it to her, and she caught it easily.
"I finished Rubyfruit Jungle around three in the morning," she admitted.
"Well," insisted Tristan. Mariel threw it at him. He put it back on her end table.
"Okay, things are great. Historically speaking, this means they're about to tank." Mariel hugged her legs and rested her chin on her knees.
"Two is not really a historical record," pointed out Tristan.
"Three, if you count -"
"Me," he finished for her. He laughed and rubbed the back of his head. "That was uncomfortable."
"See?" said Mariel, although she laughed despite herself, "disaster."
"'Sorry Tris, I'm a dyke,' would have saved us both a lot of awkward situations," said Tristan.
"Stuff it, crip, or I'll push you out that window." Mariel kicked out at him. He blocked her with his cane. "It was a weird time of my life, okay?"
"Then who would you bitch at about your love life?" asked Tristan. "Kotobuki?" Mariel wrinkled her nose. Tristan gave her a friendly kick. "So of the two relationships with people you actually wanna bang, both have ended … badly."
"Understatement," said Mariel.
"Okay, so both of the relationships you've have with people whose pants you want to be in have ended in hellfire and brimstone - better?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She nodded glumly. "But third time is the charm, right?"
"God, I hope so," said Mariel, smoothing her hair back from her face.
"It will be fine, Mariel," said Tristan, face serious now. Before she could ask what made him say that, he continued, "I mean, for one thing, Aya's not a huge psychobitch."
Mariel had to laugh at that. "Okay," she said. "Fair."
"Your taste has improved considerably since, uh, whats-her-face. Kristin."
"Kathrine," said Mariel.
"Whoever the hell," said Tristan. "My point is, she was off her rocker. Legit, I dunno where you found someone that nuts."
"Hey now," said Mariel. For a moment, Tristan thought she would defend Kathrine, but instead she made a face and said, "I'm crazy."
"You're medicated," he countered.
"Now," she pointed out.
"You're also not evil," said Tristan, making his hands into claws like the witch in a fairy tale. "It will be fine, Mariel." He smiled at her. "If it's not, I'll hit her with my stick." He jerked it out of Mariel's way as she made a dive for it.
"Don't you dare," she grumbled. "Or I'll push you down the main building stairs."
"See?" laughed Tristan. "You're a regular knight and shining armor. Now go take a shower while I impersonate you and text your girlfriend to invite her for a movie night." As Mariel slid off of the bed, he added, "and don't try to drown yourself in the shower."
title: the wrong man to mess with
verse: Jazz Remix (1920s, canon)
prompt: strawberry banana #4: bad news
rating: G
word count: 470
summary: A stranger tries to hassle Tristan and Koji. Tristan has other plans.
note: some homophobic language
"Hey, you couple of queers!"
Koji glanced over his shoulder towards the source of the noise. Tristan continued down the sidewalk as though he hadn't heard anything, although he tightened his grip on his cane.
"Yeah, you two faggots."
"Tristan, I think he means us," said Koji.
"I'm married," said Tristan, shrugging.
"Yeah to yer wife who looks like a dude an' her pretty girlfriend, an' anyway how d'ya think he's gonna know that?" asked Koji, but Tristan still kept going.
It didn't take long for their would-be assailant to catch up to them. He reached out and grabbed Tristan by the shoulder. Tristan turned around to face him with a friendly smile that gave Koji the creeps. "You wouldn't mug a cripple, would you?"
Tristan put a hand on the stranger's shoulder, a friendly gesture. Then, with no warning, he dug his fingers into the man's collar and Koji, well versed in criminality, saw what he intended to do only an instant before he did it. Their would-be assailant wasn't so lucky, disarmed by Tristan's unassuming posture, friendly tone and expensive suit.
Tristan dragged him down with his free hand, and drove his cane into the soft place under his ribs. For a moment, Koji saw an almost murderous gleam in his eye as the stranger dropped, wheezing for breath. Tristan hit him again, across the side of the head, and he collapsed. Tristan let him fall, brushed off his sleeves and fixed his hat. He turned to Koji with a strange little grin.
"Come on," he said. "We're going to need whatever head start we can get."
He limped away, and Koji hurried after him after standing for a moment, stunned.
"I hadn't seen my wife in four years," said Tristan, although this explained anything. He turned down an alleyway and Koji followed, hands jammed in his pockets. While his mind raced for a way to talk them out of trouble, Tristan had just assaulted a stranger and walked away calmly.
"Yeah, and?" asked Koji, catching up to him easily.
"I'm not going to end up in the harbor," said Tristan.
"Like last time?" asked Koji, giving Tristan a sidelong glance. Suddenly he seemed a lot more like Mariel's husband, and the kind of man who might fake his own death and come back in through Ellis Island with a slew of forged paperwork from no fewer than six different countries.
Tristan stopped. Koji almost walked into him. "Something like last time," he agreed. He started walking again, weirdly calm.
"D'ya always get inta fights like that?" asked Koji. "Seems more like yer wife's thing. No offense."
"Only when other people start it," said Tristan. "The difference, I think, between myself and Mariel." He nodded towards Koji, who rubbed his crooked nose. Tristan limped back out towards the main street.
artist: Frances J./Meep
title: Drink Your ($%^&) Tea
verse: Ballad Remix (fantasy, alternate universe)
prompt: green tea #17: tea time (+ topping: chopped nuts)
rating: PG-13/R
word count: 1038
summary: Silas and Koji are sick after a night spent out in the rain. Aya takes care of them.
Although Silas and Mariel were anxious to return home to their families, the travelers remained at the inn even as the sun began to set again. Mariel readied their packs and went out into town for supplies; the money awarded to them up-front more than covered their journey home, so they could afford an extra night at the inn, and good food to eat for the remaining journey. Aya remained behind, hovering anxiously over Koji and Silas, who both lay in bed.
While the two women slept in the comfort of the hospitable Sisters' abbey, Koji and Silas slept outside in a rainstorm. Now they were both sneezing and miserable. Koji snuggled up to Silas for warmth, and Silas didn't object. Despite the season, the further north they traveled on their return journey, the chillier the weather became and Koji and Aya, from the much warmer south, felt it especially. Wether Silas was doting on his sleepy husband or because he enjoyed Koji's presence, Aya couldn't tell as she hurried off down the stairs to bring them more hot, herbal tea.
Koji immediately took advantage of her absence and narrowed his eyes with delight. "She's nice an' all," he said, "but I don't feel proper doin' this in fronna uh lady."
He shifted himself a little more on top of Silas, and slid his hands, chastely above blankets while Aya fretted, down lower. Silas shifted to allow Koji's hands to go where they wanted, and gave him a quick kiss. He hesitated, not knowing how long Aya would take to bring them tea, but when Koji made him gasp aloud, he moved his own hands to return the favor.
Koji straddled Silas, purring- or trying to purr. Instead, he sneezed violently several times. Silas laughed, but his laugh turned into a cough. Giggling, Koji rested his forehead against Silas's collarbone, sliding one hand up Silas's side, around to his back. He ran his fingertips up Silas's spine, and Silas shivered. Koji gave him an appreciative kiss, and touched Silas's spine again. Silas's hands, meanwhile, stayed a little further south. Koji moved his hands lower down again when the door creaked open.
Too late, they both jerked away from each other, but Aya had seen enough.
"Oh!" Aya nearly dropped the tray she carried with their mugs steaming. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize you were busy."
Later, Koji would swear he saw a sparkle of amusement - and understanding - in Aya's eyes as she hurried from the room, but at the time, he couldn't think rational thoughts, torn between the need to get some space between himself and his husband, and the need to not get some space between himself and his husband. The door squeaked closed behind her while both Silas and Koji lay in bed. Aya's footsteps down the wooden stairs were barely audible over the sound of their breathing.
"So," whispered Koji, after awhile. "Where did we leave off?"
"I think your hands were…" Silas trailed off, but Koji understood what he meant, as Silas demonstrated. Koji arched his back, and then sneezed again.
After the exploits of the night before last, it felt nice to lay in a warm, soft bed. Koji and Silas took advantage of the lazy afternoon, mostly alone, to kiss and touch sleepily, but not vigorously. Mariel had muttered something about not wanting to get sick herself before hurrying out into the marketplace; she and Aya slept in the room next door, and Silas doubted she would disturb them. This close to home, she wouldn't want to catch an illness she might pass on to her already sickly husband.
Aya by now just knew better.
Koji lowered himself so he lay beside Silas again, both of them face-to-face. They tangled their legs together, Koji running his foot seductively up and down Silas's calf. Silas gave an appreciative sigh, and rewarded Koji with an affectionate nuzzle and ran his thumb down Koji's jaw.
As much as Koji would have liked a little more action, his body felt stiff and sore - and not in a good way. "M'head hurts," he groaned, feeling decidedly unsexy, despite his proximity to his husband, the rare time alone together with no rush to get going, and Silas's thigh between his legs.
"Drink your tea," suggested Silas. "Lady Aya went through so much … hassle to fetch it for us." Koji groaned; the tea tasted foul and burned his throat, although he did have to admit it made him feel a little better after his dose that morning. "She's a lady, not a maid," insisted Silas. "The least we could do to thank her is actually drink it."
Somehow Koji got the idea that Aya running downstairs to bring them tea wasn't what Silas felt so apologetic about, but he still dragged himself upright and took one of the mugs in his hands. He blew on it, but it already cooled. Without any excuses to procrastinate, he wrinkled his nose and downed as much as possible in one go. He drank most of it, but sputtered at the end, unable to quench his disgust.
Silas patted him on the back while he coughed. Choking on the tea soon turned into a hacking cough, deep in his chest. Koji rubbed his eyes. "I don' feel good," he groaned, hugging his knees. His chest hurt, his back twinged with pain, and he could feel a headache creeping up around the edges of his consciousness. Silas heard a hint of desperation in Koji's voice, and pulled him back down to lay beside him.
"Get some rest," he suggested, hugging his husband. He rested his chin on the top of Koji's head. Koji snuggled up closer, and fell into a fitful sleep. Despite the aching cough in his chest and his stuffy head and sore throat, Koji fell asleep feeling mostly content with the world. Silas holding him close while he dozed, Aya clucking and fretting, even Mariel running all of their errands; they had become his family, and now that the dragon was dead behind them, Koji felt for the first time that he had nothing to fear.
artist: Frances J./Meep
title: Pillow Talk
verse: Party Remix (college, alternate universe)
prompt: strawberry #30: pillow + chocolate #3: sympathy + vanilla #22: gossip/a rumor (+ topping: chopped nuts)
rating: G
word count: 823
summary: Mariel and Tristan discuss her love life.
note: light use of homophobic and ableist slurs jokingly between friends, joking reference to suicidal ideation (both established within their relationship as "acceptable targets")
"How's things with Aya?" asked Tristan, leaning back against the screen of Mariel's window, open to let in the late summer breeze.
"Oh, I don't know," said Mariel, her voice muffled. Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Only, you know, wonderful."
"So why are you trying to smother yourself with a pillow?" he asked, nudging her with his cane. She swatted him away without looking, or removing the pillow.
Mariel lay flopped back on her bed, legs dangling over the edge. "I thought it might be faster than smoking."
"Probably," agreed Tristan. "Speaking of, mind if I do?"
"Yeah, whatever." Mariel waved a hand vaguely at Tristan in a way that came no closer to answering his question. He gave her an inquisitive look, but she couldn't see him, still holding her pillow over her face.
"Yeah you mind," he asked, "or yeah, I can smoke one?"
"Nah I don't mind, yeah you can smoke one."
Tristan used his cane to reach over for the satchel he dropped on Mariel's desk chair on the way in. He dug out a pack and a lighter and lit himself a cigarette. When Mariel didn't toss aside her pillow and immediately bum one off of him, he started to get concerned.
"Wait, are you actually trying to smother yourself?" he asked, tugging at a corner of the pillow. She peered out at him with eyes narrowed.
"No." Mariel groaned and pulled herself upright next to him. He offered her a cigarette, unlit. She smiled and stuck it in her mouth. He leaned across the bed and lit hers from his own with a grin.
"So if everything's so wonderful, lovebird, why the full ashtray and the pillow and still in your pajamas at," Tristan checked his watch for emphasis, "three in the afternoon."
"I'm wearing jeans," said Mariel.
"Which you slept in, Mariel. I know you too well for that," said Tristan. She grumbled a touché. "Stop avoiding the question. Things are going well, and you're reading The Well of Loneliness," he said, picking it up from her nightstand. "Again." He tossed it to her, and she caught it easily.
"I finished Rubyfruit Jungle around three in the morning," she admitted.
"Well," insisted Tristan. Mariel threw it at him. He put it back on her end table.
"Okay, things are great. Historically speaking, this means they're about to tank." Mariel hugged her legs and rested her chin on her knees.
"Two is not really a historical record," pointed out Tristan.
"Three, if you count -"
"Me," he finished for her. He laughed and rubbed the back of his head. "That was uncomfortable."
"See?" said Mariel, although she laughed despite herself, "disaster."
"'Sorry Tris, I'm a dyke,' would have saved us both a lot of awkward situations," said Tristan.
"Stuff it, crip, or I'll push you out that window." Mariel kicked out at him. He blocked her with his cane. "It was a weird time of my life, okay?"
"Then who would you bitch at about your love life?" asked Tristan. "Kotobuki?" Mariel wrinkled her nose. Tristan gave her a friendly kick. "So of the two relationships with people you actually wanna bang, both have ended … badly."
"Understatement," said Mariel.
"Okay, so both of the relationships you've have with people whose pants you want to be in have ended in hellfire and brimstone - better?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She nodded glumly. "But third time is the charm, right?"
"God, I hope so," said Mariel, smoothing her hair back from her face.
"It will be fine, Mariel," said Tristan, face serious now. Before she could ask what made him say that, he continued, "I mean, for one thing, Aya's not a huge psychobitch."
Mariel had to laugh at that. "Okay," she said. "Fair."
"Your taste has improved considerably since, uh, whats-her-face. Kristin."
"Kathrine," said Mariel.
"Whoever the hell," said Tristan. "My point is, she was off her rocker. Legit, I dunno where you found someone that nuts."
"Hey now," said Mariel. For a moment, Tristan thought she would defend Kathrine, but instead she made a face and said, "I'm crazy."
"You're medicated," he countered.
"Now," she pointed out.
"You're also not evil," said Tristan, making his hands into claws like the witch in a fairy tale. "It will be fine, Mariel." He smiled at her. "If it's not, I'll hit her with my stick." He jerked it out of Mariel's way as she made a dive for it.
"Don't you dare," she grumbled. "Or I'll push you down the main building stairs."
"See?" laughed Tristan. "You're a regular knight and shining armor. Now go take a shower while I impersonate you and text your girlfriend to invite her for a movie night." As Mariel slid off of the bed, he added, "and don't try to drown yourself in the shower."