Discovered in a Christmas Stocking - Day 29
Hi guys, and a merry Christmas and a happy New Year and a great Yule and whatever else you've been celebrating.
My prompt was 'Top Trumps'. Fortunately I have young sons and therefore wasn't completely flummoxed! Actually, it's been a lot of fun researching this, and I've stuck in a couple of links for anyone who might possibly be interested.
“They’re called Ace Trumps.”
“Yeah. I can see that. See, here it is written on the back. Why’ve you got ‘em?”
“Dunno. Bit of fun, I suppose. Liven up those long cold nights on stakeout.”
“Oh, I can think of another way of doing that. C’mere.”
“Ow! Gerroff me, you insatiable brute!”
“Insatiable brute, eh? I like that. Does that make you the blushing helpless maiden?”
“In your dreams, mate. Blushing what? What kind of books are you into anyway? No, don’t tell me - a couple of days away from me and you’re reaching for the trashy romance novels, you big softie.”
“Books? Nah, these’re films. Very - artistic, know what I mean?”
“Pig. Anyway, I got hold of these from my sister’s kid. They’re all the rage among the discerning eight-year-old set. Should suit you down to the ground.”
“So you’re stealing toys off little children now? I’m disappointed in you, Raymond.”
“He gave them to me, idiot. Had two sets of these ones, so he thought I could use them. Said those night shifts must get boring. I said he wasn’t wrong, level of conversation I have to put up with. Then he said, he thinks Uncle Bodie’s pretty funny, actually, and I said, well his face certainly is, and then - God! Bodie, do that again and I swear I won’t be held responsible.”
“That’s the idea. Oh, give them here, then, let’s have a look. What are they - trading cards?”
“No, it’s a game. Each one has statistics. You pick a card each, choose your category, and whichever card has the highest stats wins. So simple, even a complete moron could understand it. Do you want me to go over it again?”
“Har har. So these are all tanks, eh? Let’s have a look - why are they all German? Or Yank - oh, yeah, here’s one. The FV432. I drove one of these once, you know.”
“Course you did. Ah, Africa...”
“Germany, actually. Training exercises. Oh, and there was this one time I borrowed it to take a particularly lovely fraulein out dancing. Not that we did much actual dancing, come to think. Lots of space in those personnel carriers, know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I think I can just about get my head round it. Well, tanks for the memories, Bodie. Tanks, geddit?”
“You know, Doyle, there are people out there who think you’re intellectual. But they don’t know you like I do. What else’ve you got?”
“Here. You’ll like this one. Sports cars - two Capris in there, too, in among all the Maseratis and the Alfas.”
“Yeah well, class will out. Here, hold on - top speed 112 miles an hour? I consider that offensive.”
“Be fair, Bodie. Those are a few years old now. Look on it as a challenge.”
“Don’t need to, mate. Hundred and twelve? I passed that a long time ago.”
“Ahh. And you don’t look a day over ninety.”
“Oh, very droll. You know, these card things are pretty good. Tell you what, there should be a CI5 agents set. I’d get maximum marks for top speed in that. And in the ‘Charm and Charisma’ category.”
“Oh, of course. You can have the ‘Dumb Insolence’ category while you’re at it. What about ‘Firepower’? That’d be a good one.”
“Easy, too. It’d have to be Tommy, God rest him. Never seen a man who loved big guns as much as him. Hey, what do you think the Cow would score highest on?”
“Um. ‘Triple think’, definitely. And possibly ‘Capacity to Kill a Man with a Single Blow’.”
“Nah, that’d be you. Nobody blows like you do. Speaking of which...”
“Oh, for crying out loud, do you ever think of anything else? All right, here’s one that’s on your level. Who’d score highest in the ‘Glamour’ category? Susan or Ruth?”
“Both very worthy suggestions. But my vote’d go to Betty. Now there’s a fine figure of a woman.”
“Fair enough. And Anson can have the ‘Smartest Mouth’ category.”
“Oh no. That’s you again, sweetheart.”
“You really are very single-minded tonight, aren’t you? Oh all right, I give up. You want to see how smart this mouth can be, get over here and I’ll...hang on.”
“What?”
“Over there.”
“Yep, that’s him. Sense of timing’s as criminal as the rest of him. Right then, cover me. One, two, three...”
Title: Top Trumps
Author: bistokids
Genre: Slash (but as mild as mild can be)
Rating: If it manages PG-13, I'll be surprised.
Archive: Yes
Disclaimer: You know all this bit - fill in your own favourite.
Warning/AN: Dialogue!fic, for those who care about such things. Enjoy! :)
My prompt was 'Top Trumps'. Fortunately I have young sons and therefore wasn't completely flummoxed! Actually, it's been a lot of fun researching this, and I've stuck in a couple of links for anyone who might possibly be interested.
“They’re called Ace Trumps.”
“Yeah. I can see that. See, here it is written on the back. Why’ve you got ‘em?”
“Dunno. Bit of fun, I suppose. Liven up those long cold nights on stakeout.”
“Oh, I can think of another way of doing that. C’mere.”
“Ow! Gerroff me, you insatiable brute!”
“Insatiable brute, eh? I like that. Does that make you the blushing helpless maiden?”
“In your dreams, mate. Blushing what? What kind of books are you into anyway? No, don’t tell me - a couple of days away from me and you’re reaching for the trashy romance novels, you big softie.”
“Books? Nah, these’re films. Very - artistic, know what I mean?”
“Pig. Anyway, I got hold of these from my sister’s kid. They’re all the rage among the discerning eight-year-old set. Should suit you down to the ground.”
“So you’re stealing toys off little children now? I’m disappointed in you, Raymond.”
“He gave them to me, idiot. Had two sets of these ones, so he thought I could use them. Said those night shifts must get boring. I said he wasn’t wrong, level of conversation I have to put up with. Then he said, he thinks Uncle Bodie’s pretty funny, actually, and I said, well his face certainly is, and then - God! Bodie, do that again and I swear I won’t be held responsible.”
“That’s the idea. Oh, give them here, then, let’s have a look. What are they - trading cards?”
“No, it’s a game. Each one has statistics. You pick a card each, choose your category, and whichever card has the highest stats wins. So simple, even a complete moron could understand it. Do you want me to go over it again?”
“Har har. So these are all tanks, eh? Let’s have a look - why are they all German? Or Yank - oh, yeah, here’s one. The FV432. I drove one of these once, you know.”
“Course you did. Ah, Africa...”
“Germany, actually. Training exercises. Oh, and there was this one time I borrowed it to take a particularly lovely fraulein out dancing. Not that we did much actual dancing, come to think. Lots of space in those personnel carriers, know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I think I can just about get my head round it. Well, tanks for the memories, Bodie. Tanks, geddit?”
“You know, Doyle, there are people out there who think you’re intellectual. But they don’t know you like I do. What else’ve you got?”
“Here. You’ll like this one. Sports cars - two Capris in there, too, in among all the Maseratis and the Alfas.”
“Yeah well, class will out. Here, hold on - top speed 112 miles an hour? I consider that offensive.”
“Be fair, Bodie. Those are a few years old now. Look on it as a challenge.”
“Don’t need to, mate. Hundred and twelve? I passed that a long time ago.”
“Ahh. And you don’t look a day over ninety.”
“Oh, very droll. You know, these card things are pretty good. Tell you what, there should be a CI5 agents set. I’d get maximum marks for top speed in that. And in the ‘Charm and Charisma’ category.”
“Oh, of course. You can have the ‘Dumb Insolence’ category while you’re at it. What about ‘Firepower’? That’d be a good one.”
“Easy, too. It’d have to be Tommy, God rest him. Never seen a man who loved big guns as much as him. Hey, what do you think the Cow would score highest on?”
“Um. ‘Triple think’, definitely. And possibly ‘Capacity to Kill a Man with a Single Blow’.”
“Nah, that’d be you. Nobody blows like you do. Speaking of which...”
“Oh, for crying out loud, do you ever think of anything else? All right, here’s one that’s on your level. Who’d score highest in the ‘Glamour’ category? Susan or Ruth?”
“Both very worthy suggestions. But my vote’d go to Betty. Now there’s a fine figure of a woman.”
“Fair enough. And Anson can have the ‘Smartest Mouth’ category.”
“Oh no. That’s you again, sweetheart.”
“You really are very single-minded tonight, aren’t you? Oh all right, I give up. You want to see how smart this mouth can be, get over here and I’ll...hang on.”
“What?”
“Over there.”
“Yep, that’s him. Sense of timing’s as criminal as the rest of him. Right then, cover me. One, two, three...”
Title: Top Trumps
Author: bistokids
Genre: Slash (but as mild as mild can be)
Rating: If it manages PG-13, I'll be surprised.
Archive: Yes
Disclaimer: You know all this bit - fill in your own favourite.
Warning/AN: Dialogue!fic, for those who care about such things. Enjoy! :)