(Untitled)

[banky]

Banky didn't know what the fuck was wrong with him. The island had turned into something straight out of fucking Indiana Jones overnight a few days ago. He should be wanting to EXPLORE and HAVE ADVENTURES and shit. Only Banky wasn't wanting to do any of that shit

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[canaan_divided]

Mamet's on a walk with Starbuck, barefoot and shirtless as seems to be the trend ever since the island turned into a Bollywood movie. His guitar's strapped to his back and he isn't paying attention to much, so he only notices the other guy until Starbuck's up there trying to impale him with her nose.

"Hey, Starbuck, c'mon..."

[banky]

Banky had been in the middle of reaching down for a stone when he expectedly found himself accosted by a biggish black dog with a fucking cold nose.

"Hey!" he gripes, though somehow he didn't really sound all that pissed. It was more surprise and amusement than anything else.

Giving up trying to push the damned dog away (unable to resist those dark, dewy sad doggie eyes), Banky scratched it behind an ear. "You're a persistent little fucker, aren't you?"

[canaan_divided]

Starbuck soaks up the attention, oh yeah, right there, she seems to say as she leans into the scratch. Tongue lolling out the side of her mouth she flops down next to the man like she was invited.

"Um," Mamet says helpfully.

[banky]

Jesus Christ, but Banky hasn't seen anything THIS F'IN EASY since the last time he visited Hooper tending bar at that fucking dyke club uptown. Those chicks had been like white on goddamned rice; too bad he hadn't been a rug muncher or he could've had his pick of booty.

Shrugging over at the guy he assumed to be the dog's owner, Banky said, "It's okay. Every guy needs to deal with a pushy bitch every once in a while, right?"