you have got to be fucking kidding me

[reapyourshitup]

You know, there are some nice things to be said for living on your own in a hut in the Hidden Hamlet. Aside from the cheesy as hell name, and the sometimes cheesy as hell neighbors (Anne of Avonlea and the little fucking mermaid are fucking next door? What the fuck is that shit?), it's nice. Cozy, quiet, and mercifully lacking in one George Lass

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[mr_vera]

Jayne was in the kitchen making a sandwich when he heard the gunshots, and wandered into the rec room, curious but not especially alarmed. Noticing the gun and the bullet holes, he snorted and shook his head. "Hell, I tried that once too," he said, taking a big bite of his sandwich. "Didn't do a gorram thing," he went on, with his mouth full. "I'd try usin' one o' my grenades, but I'd prolly end up blowin' a hole in th' ceiling."

[reapyourshitup]

Apparently that saying about speaking of the Devil and he appears holds true for thinking about honkies, too.

I don't bother to hide my disgust at his eating habits, giving him a dismissive look as I holster my gun. Even though he's like a fucking foot taller than me. "Probably," I drawl. "Were you raised in a fucking barn?"

I'm going to ignore the fact that I just pulled the same shit as this inbreed did. I'm tired and irritated and the mother fucking juke box is at it again, so I really can't be forced to care any more than to remind myself to never do it again.

[mr_vera]

"Nope," Jayne said, taking another bite of his sandwich. He ambled over and looked at the bullet holes in the jukebox, sticking his finger through one of them. "Nice. 9 millimeter?"

[reapyourshitup]

You'd think that after seeing how sarcasm hits Mason and just slides off like water, I'd figure out that sarcasm isn't a good tactic with these people. But I haven't.

"Yeah," I say, glaring at the jukebox as I sit my ass down again. "Fucking lot of good it did."

[mr_vera]

"Thing's a yī dà tuó dàbiàn," Jayne said, still examining the bullet holes. How come she'd gotten a hole in the thing? His bullet had just ricocheted. "Someday I'm gonna get me a wheelbarrow or somethin' and tip th' gorram thing into th' ocean. Betcha the island would give me a medal."

[big pile of shit]

[reapyourshitup]

"Unless two more just showed up in its place," I say, which isn't entirely impossible given how much of a pain in the ass that hunk of plastic and glass and chrome and speaker is. "Then they just might lynch you."

[mr_vera]

"Damn," Jayne said, having a sudden vision of jukeboxes multiplying like bugs. Or rabbits or something. "What was that song, anyway? Didn't sound that bad t' me."

[reapyourshitup]

"It's a bullshit song from a bullshit movie," I tell him, dismissively. That's a lie. It's a decent movie for what it is. And he's right; it's not a terrible song. But it makes me feel all kinds of pissed off and disturbed, and I don't like that. I don't like shit that fucks with me. So I ignore it.