leenys
in
speed_rent
(no subject)
Title: Pooh Bear
Author: kamelion
Feedback: sure
Pairing: none
Word Count: 284
Rating: K+/T slight language
Genre: stupid. LOL!
Summary: ficlet based on Mark/first time/honey prompt
Notes: written in like...two pont five minutes...so treat it as such.
Special Thanks: to everyone here for keeping Speedrent alive!
Spoilers: nope
Warnings: just slight language. Very slight. Like one tiny word slight.
Disclaimer: not mine. Darn it. Cause I really want a Mark for my personal collection. In leiu of that, I'll take Anthony.
“I don’t suppose ‘monkey and gourd’ mean anything to you?” Collins merely folded his arms and looked at Mark, whose hand was stuck in a thin-necked jar.
Mark was blushing like a fool. “Don’t make this any worse than it already is.”
“What’s in that thing?”
“You mean other than my hand?”
“Uh-huh.”
Mark raised his chin. “A quarter.”
“A quarter.”
“Yes.”
“You stuck your hand in a pot for a quarter.”
“Yes.”
“And now you can’t get it out.”
“Yes.”
“Did I ever mention you’re about seven kinds of stupid?”
“Collins. . .”
“Three fries short of a happy-meal?”
“Collins.”
“So albino even your brain cells are transparent. . .”
“Collins! Just get the damn hammer!”
Roger didn’t even look up from his magazine. “Could just let go of the quarter,” he suggested as he casually flipped a page.
“Are you kidding me?”
Roger sighed. “You didn’t let go, did you?”
“Of course I let go! And I’m still stuck!”
“Worse than Pooh Bear and the honey pot,” Collins muttered. He jerked open a drawer and pulled out a hammer. It twirled in his hand as he walked back to Mark.
The young man suddenly looked pale. “Hey, you know, I bet if I just run water over it . . .”
“It’ll just fill the pot.” Collins raised the hammer.
“Wait! Wait. Oh, look.” Mark grabbed the pot and wriggled his hand out. “See? There. No need for violence.”
“Decided to let go of the quarter, huh?” Roger asked. He had yet to look up. “Actually listened to me. First time for everything.”
“Shut up,” Mark muttered.
Collins sighed and let the hammer fall back into the drawer with a clatter. “Next time, tilt the damn jar,” he muttered.
Author: kamelion
Feedback: sure
Pairing: none
Word Count: 284
Rating: K+/T slight language
Genre: stupid. LOL!
Summary: ficlet based on Mark/first time/honey prompt
Notes: written in like...two pont five minutes...so treat it as such.
Special Thanks: to everyone here for keeping Speedrent alive!
Spoilers: nope
Warnings: just slight language. Very slight. Like one tiny word slight.
Disclaimer: not mine. Darn it. Cause I really want a Mark for my personal collection. In leiu of that, I'll take Anthony.
“I don’t suppose ‘monkey and gourd’ mean anything to you?” Collins merely folded his arms and looked at Mark, whose hand was stuck in a thin-necked jar.
Mark was blushing like a fool. “Don’t make this any worse than it already is.”
“What’s in that thing?”
“You mean other than my hand?”
“Uh-huh.”
Mark raised his chin. “A quarter.”
“A quarter.”
“Yes.”
“You stuck your hand in a pot for a quarter.”
“Yes.”
“And now you can’t get it out.”
“Yes.”
“Did I ever mention you’re about seven kinds of stupid?”
“Collins. . .”
“Three fries short of a happy-meal?”
“Collins.”
“So albino even your brain cells are transparent. . .”
“Collins! Just get the damn hammer!”
Roger didn’t even look up from his magazine. “Could just let go of the quarter,” he suggested as he casually flipped a page.
“Are you kidding me?”
Roger sighed. “You didn’t let go, did you?”
“Of course I let go! And I’m still stuck!”
“Worse than Pooh Bear and the honey pot,” Collins muttered. He jerked open a drawer and pulled out a hammer. It twirled in his hand as he walked back to Mark.
The young man suddenly looked pale. “Hey, you know, I bet if I just run water over it . . .”
“It’ll just fill the pot.” Collins raised the hammer.
“Wait! Wait. Oh, look.” Mark grabbed the pot and wriggled his hand out. “See? There. No need for violence.”
“Decided to let go of the quarter, huh?” Roger asked. He had yet to look up. “Actually listened to me. First time for everything.”
“Shut up,” Mark muttered.
Collins sighed and let the hammer fall back into the drawer with a clatter. “Next time, tilt the damn jar,” he muttered.