My pitiful attempt to anti-angst "Apples to Apples"
First, lovelylytton wrote this, starring Skippy the Three-eyed Wonder Inbredbabby, which made me want to drink pure grain alcohol until the pain stops (which so far, it hasn't.)
Then ellorgast tried to mitigate the pain with A Study in Pink which, while it helped, caused Justin Bieber to get $9 richer since I downloaded all of his iTunes to help the burning ache of angst. Oh and Katy Perry got $1.29. All because of this fic.
So then I tossed together this, even though it's a bandaid for a gunshot wound. Good lord do you ladies know how to angst.
Title: Apples to Apples
AN: There is NO point to this fic except to hopefully make someone smile.
In a darkened kitchen the size of a small gymnasium, a young man was hard at work at a delicate task. A low hum of chatter and low music came from the closed door, and the drone increased to a blare as it swung inward and admitted a tiny visitor.
“Kevin, what are you doing?”
Sixteen-year-old Kevin Chaston jumped and nearly cut off his pinky finger with the paring knife as it sliced through the entire side of the apple and clacked off of the marble countertop. “Shit,” he muttered as he rolled the ruined apple aside. He spared his younger sister, only six years old and toting a stuffed unicorn, barely a glance as he reached for another apple. “Go away.”
“You said a bad word!” Serena preened, hopping on her toes. Her Mary Janes were covered in silver glitter and matched the silver trim of her puffy white party dress, and two bows the size of salad plates festooned each of her white-blonde pigtails. Around her neck hung a silver chain and star-shaped locket with a half-carat white diamond in the middle, and a matching charm bracelet slid up to her elbow. From head to toe, her outfit probably cost more than most people earned in month.
By comparison, Kevin had changed into gym clothes the minute he was excused from the party.
He reached for another Red Delicious from the mostly decorative fruit bowl (the fruit changed every three days, regardless if any was eaten or not) and cut a gouge from the top. Zach had left him an eighth of AK-47 but forgotten to leave him any papers, and he was too paranoid to keep any bowls or pipes on him. He tested several books in his father’s office before concluding that the only thing that might do was a pocket Bible, and even he wasn’t that sacrilegious. Zach would have smoked through the Old Testament with barely a blink. There was a brief contemplation over a Coke can and a roll of foil, but the ultimate decider was that a chopped-up apple and an emptied Bic pen aroused far less suspicion than a crushed soda can with a side full of burnt holes.
Kevin had just passed his last drug test as part of his probation, and in his adolescent, underdeveloped reptile-brain, there was no better way to give a huge “fuck you” to everyone than to get baked off of his ass and watch shitty movies the rest of the night.
“Go away.”
“Are you having an apple? Can I have one?”
“No, go away.”
Serena’s lower lip jutted out, and she stomped over to the door in her sparkly shoes and pushed it open. “MOMMY! Kevin won’t give me an apple and he’s being mean!”
Their mother appeared in the doorway: a dark, icy blonde silhouette in the yellow light from the parlor. “Give your sister an apple.”
“She just ate.”
“Now.”
Kevin shoved the knife through the apple like he was murdering it. “Here.”
“Mommy, he’s doing it meanly!”
“Kevin.”
He picked up the apple slice and handed it to her.
Satisfied, his mother gave a nod and disappeared.
“Thank you, Kevin.” Serena bit into apple slice as he reached for a third juicy red victim. “What are you doing?”
“Cutting apples.” The stem was decapitated, and he busied himself scraping out the middle.
“You’re doing it funny.”
“Go away.”
She ignored him. “You should use the funny hole-maker that Cissy uses.”
“I know what I’m doing.” The knife gouged a hole through the side. “Fuck!”
Serena trotted over to the door again. “MOMMY! Kevin said the EFF WORD.”
The shadow appeared in the doorway again. “Kevin, you will be aware of your language in front of your sister.”
“Sorry,” he muttered, and began working on the fourth apple. His sister didn’t leave when his mother did.
“Can you play with me?”
“No.”
“I wanna play Candyland.”
“No. Go play with the other kids.”
“I don’t wanna play-“
“Swallow.”
She swallowed a mouthful of apple and continued. “I don’t wanna play with them! I want to play with you!”
“I already said no, now go away.”
“I’m going to tell Mommy!”
“Tell her,” Kevin griped. He pulled the knife away and marveled at his handiwork. While the others attempts had ended as fruit salad, this one had a perfect cavern. He rummaged through the drawers for an ice pick, and stuck it through the side of the shiny red skin.
He realized Serena was still in the room. “Will you beat it?”
“Will you play with me after you have your apple?”
Christ, no. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“You’re so meeeean.” She hit him on the leg with her unicorn. “You never want to play with me.”
That was a lie, since he was tasked with entertaining her while her nanny was on vacation. He drilled the pen through the hole and raised the whole thing to his lips to clear the airway.
Serena was gazing up at him with pure innocence-with an undercurrent of pure brattiness--in her baby blue eyes.
“Will you please leave me alone?”
“I wanna play with you!”
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you go away.”
“I don’t want a hundred dollars; I want you to play Candyland!” She stomped a glittery shoe and dropped her arms to her sides, her tiny fists clenched into balls. Her small face turned the color of a strawberry. “I’ll scream if you don’t play with me right now!”
Clearly, he was fucked either way. He scooped up the apple, knife, and pen, flung his baby sister into the pantry, and locked the door behind her.
“MOMMY!!!”
He made it to his room before her screams stopped.
The index from the pocket Bible was used to get through the rest of his grounding.
“Kevin, it’s your turn in Mario Party.”
“In a minute.” He blew on his fingers to warm them up, and stabbed at the top of the apple. Snow fell on the red, waxy skin, and he contemplated the idiocy of trying to hack together a pipe outside of his parents’ house, in the middle of a blizzard. “Zach, are you sure you can’t-“
“No way, man,” Zach giggled as he hopped around the back patio in his sodden hoodie. “I’m way too high. It’d be like a salad shooter.”
“Slap-chop.”
“What?”
“Who cares,” Darien griped as he rubbed his gloved hands together. “Chaston, get your shit together and cut the damn thing.”
“This was your idea.” It had been, but Kevin was especially susceptible to the suggestion after his cousin arrived with new Russian mail-order bride in tow.
Serena crossed her arms. “We’re waiting for you, Kevin.”
“In a minute.”
“Raye is getting crabby.”
“Raye can fucking wait.”
She huffed, and turned to the opened kitchen door. “MOM! Kevin’s swearing at me!”
“She can’t hear you.”
The response was faint. “Stop it, Kevin.”
Zach and Darien exploded into giggles. “You just got yelled at by your Mom!” Zach chortled, never breaking pace. Snowflakes were collecting in sodden bunches in his sandy blond curls.
“Hurry up!”
“Would you shut up?” Kevin snarled as his knife missed and cut a chunk of fruit out of the apple. “Damn it!”
“You’re terrible at this.”
“Eat a dick, Chiba.”
“Don’t be mean to my husband,” Serena crossed her arms.
“He was my friend before he was your husband.”
“Jason’s going to be mad that you’re leaving him out.”
“Jason has a cold. I don’t want that shit.” The apple was beyond repair. He chucked it in the snow. “Let me start over.”
Serena huffed. “No! It’s your TURN. You have to take your TURN.” She stomped her Kate Spade glitter ballet flat and glared up at him. “So come inside right now!”
“No.”
“Get in the house!”
“How old are you?”
“How old are you? You’re the one out in the snow smoking weed like a stupid high school kid!”
“So is your husband.”
“It’s not my husband’s turn at Mario Party, so I don’t care!”
“Shut up, Serena.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up!”
“I just did.”
Her lips pressed together before she swiveled around and stomped into the kitchen. “Mo-oom! Kevin’s outside making an apple bong!”
He caught her by the collar of her blouse and flung her into the pantry.
“DARIEN! Kevin locked me in the pantry! Kick his ass!”
Then ellorgast tried to mitigate the pain with A Study in Pink which, while it helped, caused Justin Bieber to get $9 richer since I downloaded all of his iTunes to help the burning ache of angst. Oh and Katy Perry got $1.29. All because of this fic.
So then I tossed together this, even though it's a bandaid for a gunshot wound. Good lord do you ladies know how to angst.
Title: Apples to Apples
AN: There is NO point to this fic except to hopefully make someone smile.
In a darkened kitchen the size of a small gymnasium, a young man was hard at work at a delicate task. A low hum of chatter and low music came from the closed door, and the drone increased to a blare as it swung inward and admitted a tiny visitor.
“Kevin, what are you doing?”
Sixteen-year-old Kevin Chaston jumped and nearly cut off his pinky finger with the paring knife as it sliced through the entire side of the apple and clacked off of the marble countertop. “Shit,” he muttered as he rolled the ruined apple aside. He spared his younger sister, only six years old and toting a stuffed unicorn, barely a glance as he reached for another apple. “Go away.”
“You said a bad word!” Serena preened, hopping on her toes. Her Mary Janes were covered in silver glitter and matched the silver trim of her puffy white party dress, and two bows the size of salad plates festooned each of her white-blonde pigtails. Around her neck hung a silver chain and star-shaped locket with a half-carat white diamond in the middle, and a matching charm bracelet slid up to her elbow. From head to toe, her outfit probably cost more than most people earned in month.
By comparison, Kevin had changed into gym clothes the minute he was excused from the party.
He reached for another Red Delicious from the mostly decorative fruit bowl (the fruit changed every three days, regardless if any was eaten or not) and cut a gouge from the top. Zach had left him an eighth of AK-47 but forgotten to leave him any papers, and he was too paranoid to keep any bowls or pipes on him. He tested several books in his father’s office before concluding that the only thing that might do was a pocket Bible, and even he wasn’t that sacrilegious. Zach would have smoked through the Old Testament with barely a blink. There was a brief contemplation over a Coke can and a roll of foil, but the ultimate decider was that a chopped-up apple and an emptied Bic pen aroused far less suspicion than a crushed soda can with a side full of burnt holes.
Kevin had just passed his last drug test as part of his probation, and in his adolescent, underdeveloped reptile-brain, there was no better way to give a huge “fuck you” to everyone than to get baked off of his ass and watch shitty movies the rest of the night.
“Go away.”
“Are you having an apple? Can I have one?”
“No, go away.”
Serena’s lower lip jutted out, and she stomped over to the door in her sparkly shoes and pushed it open. “MOMMY! Kevin won’t give me an apple and he’s being mean!”
Their mother appeared in the doorway: a dark, icy blonde silhouette in the yellow light from the parlor. “Give your sister an apple.”
“She just ate.”
“Now.”
Kevin shoved the knife through the apple like he was murdering it. “Here.”
“Mommy, he’s doing it meanly!”
“Kevin.”
He picked up the apple slice and handed it to her.
Satisfied, his mother gave a nod and disappeared.
“Thank you, Kevin.” Serena bit into apple slice as he reached for a third juicy red victim. “What are you doing?”
“Cutting apples.” The stem was decapitated, and he busied himself scraping out the middle.
“You’re doing it funny.”
“Go away.”
She ignored him. “You should use the funny hole-maker that Cissy uses.”
“I know what I’m doing.” The knife gouged a hole through the side. “Fuck!”
Serena trotted over to the door again. “MOMMY! Kevin said the EFF WORD.”
The shadow appeared in the doorway again. “Kevin, you will be aware of your language in front of your sister.”
“Sorry,” he muttered, and began working on the fourth apple. His sister didn’t leave when his mother did.
“Can you play with me?”
“No.”
“I wanna play Candyland.”
“No. Go play with the other kids.”
“I don’t wanna play-“
“Swallow.”
She swallowed a mouthful of apple and continued. “I don’t wanna play with them! I want to play with you!”
“I already said no, now go away.”
“I’m going to tell Mommy!”
“Tell her,” Kevin griped. He pulled the knife away and marveled at his handiwork. While the others attempts had ended as fruit salad, this one had a perfect cavern. He rummaged through the drawers for an ice pick, and stuck it through the side of the shiny red skin.
He realized Serena was still in the room. “Will you beat it?”
“Will you play with me after you have your apple?”
Christ, no. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“You’re so meeeean.” She hit him on the leg with her unicorn. “You never want to play with me.”
That was a lie, since he was tasked with entertaining her while her nanny was on vacation. He drilled the pen through the hole and raised the whole thing to his lips to clear the airway.
Serena was gazing up at him with pure innocence-with an undercurrent of pure brattiness--in her baby blue eyes.
“Will you please leave me alone?”
“I wanna play with you!”
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you go away.”
“I don’t want a hundred dollars; I want you to play Candyland!” She stomped a glittery shoe and dropped her arms to her sides, her tiny fists clenched into balls. Her small face turned the color of a strawberry. “I’ll scream if you don’t play with me right now!”
Clearly, he was fucked either way. He scooped up the apple, knife, and pen, flung his baby sister into the pantry, and locked the door behind her.
“MOMMY!!!”
He made it to his room before her screams stopped.
The index from the pocket Bible was used to get through the rest of his grounding.
“Kevin, it’s your turn in Mario Party.”
“In a minute.” He blew on his fingers to warm them up, and stabbed at the top of the apple. Snow fell on the red, waxy skin, and he contemplated the idiocy of trying to hack together a pipe outside of his parents’ house, in the middle of a blizzard. “Zach, are you sure you can’t-“
“No way, man,” Zach giggled as he hopped around the back patio in his sodden hoodie. “I’m way too high. It’d be like a salad shooter.”
“Slap-chop.”
“What?”
“Who cares,” Darien griped as he rubbed his gloved hands together. “Chaston, get your shit together and cut the damn thing.”
“This was your idea.” It had been, but Kevin was especially susceptible to the suggestion after his cousin arrived with new Russian mail-order bride in tow.
Serena crossed her arms. “We’re waiting for you, Kevin.”
“In a minute.”
“Raye is getting crabby.”
“Raye can fucking wait.”
She huffed, and turned to the opened kitchen door. “MOM! Kevin’s swearing at me!”
“She can’t hear you.”
The response was faint. “Stop it, Kevin.”
Zach and Darien exploded into giggles. “You just got yelled at by your Mom!” Zach chortled, never breaking pace. Snowflakes were collecting in sodden bunches in his sandy blond curls.
“Hurry up!”
“Would you shut up?” Kevin snarled as his knife missed and cut a chunk of fruit out of the apple. “Damn it!”
“You’re terrible at this.”
“Eat a dick, Chiba.”
“Don’t be mean to my husband,” Serena crossed her arms.
“He was my friend before he was your husband.”
“Jason’s going to be mad that you’re leaving him out.”
“Jason has a cold. I don’t want that shit.” The apple was beyond repair. He chucked it in the snow. “Let me start over.”
Serena huffed. “No! It’s your TURN. You have to take your TURN.” She stomped her Kate Spade glitter ballet flat and glared up at him. “So come inside right now!”
“No.”
“Get in the house!”
“How old are you?”
“How old are you? You’re the one out in the snow smoking weed like a stupid high school kid!”
“So is your husband.”
“It’s not my husband’s turn at Mario Party, so I don’t care!”
“Shut up, Serena.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up!”
“I just did.”
Her lips pressed together before she swiveled around and stomped into the kitchen. “Mo-oom! Kevin’s outside making an apple bong!”
He caught her by the collar of her blouse and flung her into the pantry.
“DARIEN! Kevin locked me in the pantry! Kick his ass!”