rhubarb, grapefruit and flavour of the day with malt and fresh peaches and pineapple
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: Fast Food
Rating: PG (language)
Challenge: FOTD: gastronome, Rhubarb ‘My Treat’ #17: you are what you eat (Pia introduces Ashdown to fast food), Grapefruit: batteries not included
Toppings/Extras: fresh peaches, fresh pineapple, malt
Wordcount: 1,107
Summary: Pia Rees tries to make up for the Demon Incident.
Notes: I will write the Demon Incident someday. Gastronome: A connoisseur of good food and drink. Grapefruit PFAH: Pia : it’s a big bright beautiful world. Peaches: Tonight the Moon and Saturn suggest someone is making an important attitude adjustment. Pineapple: “What The Hell”, Avril Lavigne.
“Mate, Happy Meals are for the win,” Pia said as she collapsed into a seat opposite to him with a tray of various foodstuffs. Ashdown narrowed his eyes at her witheringly, which only succeeded in making her giggle. “Aw, come on, Ed! It was just a fuckin’ film!”
She’d taken him to the cinema earlier that day, which hadn’t gone well. Apparently, picking the scariest film of the year for his first ever cinematic experience hadn’t been such a good choice.
How the hell was she meant to know the grumpy sod actually believed in demons?
“I’m sure it’s nothin’ some nice, greasy chips can’t solve,” Pia said waggling her eyebrows at him. The slim man didn’t look impressed with the spread in front of him. He prodded at it and wrinkled his nose.
“It smells bad,” he said.
“You’re just annoyed about the film,” Pia crowed. “I know you!” She popped open a plastic wrapper and fished out a small toy car, turning it over in her hands. It was toxic green, made of plastic, and had little LED lights along the sides. When she pressed the button on the top, nothing happened. “Cheapskates,” she sighed, but went on to drive it all around the table anyway.
Ashdown watched her haughtily.
“What is that?” he demanded eventually.
“’S a car,” Pia said, bringing it screeching dramatically around a paper cup filled with Coke. “Only rich people have ‘em now. You’ll see ‘em on our trip to Wales.”
“We’re going to Wales?” The very thought seemed to disgust Ashdown.
“I have such a surprise for you. You’re gonna love it.”
Ashdown didn’t look convinced in the least, which Pia supposed was justified.
Her gaze wandered around the inside of the little fast food shop they had stopped in, filled mostly with children and parents, the occasional sprawling pride of teenagers and even fewer lone eaters, all of whom looked depressed as hell. When she looked back towards Ashdown, he was scrutinising the food in front of him as though it were some sort of vile, diseased corpse.
“Hey, shucks, come on. Peace.” Pia held up a particularly long chip and let it dangle in front of his face. “I’m sorry. Olive branch of greasy togetherness. We are gonna be best friends for life, agreed?”
“Not bloody likely,” Ashdown muttered, but he took the salty chip from her and looked at it for a moment. “You’re not so bad for a ginger, though,” he added with a smirk.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Lord High-and-Nutty,” Pia said. Then she watched with interest as he ate the chip. He didn’t pull any faces, but after he had swallowed it he furrowed his brow just a tad.
“Disgusting,” he pronounced.
“Ed! You’re not givin’ it a chance!”
“I am not eating any more of this.”
One thing she had learned over time was that it was impossible to change his mind once it was made, pride being more of an issue than stubbornness.
Pia sighed and dragged herself to her feet. She had expected it anyway, but she made a big display of shuffling out of the door and throwing many long-suffering, pouty looks his way. He called her a fool but laughed a little anyway, and soon they were out amidst the skyscrapers with the lowering mid-afternoon sun glancing blindingly from every surface. Pia whipped out a pair of gigantic sunglasses and propped them over her eyes.
“Where did you get those?” Ashdown asked.
“Nicked ‘em off that Scottish gal,” she grinned. “Taisy.”
“Charming.”
Running the wheels of her toy car over the wall alongside her, Pia skipped along the walkway, barging people out of the way to keep her place next to the shining wall. Ashdown trudged behind her, occasionally glancing over his shoulder. The city towered above them and fell away below them, never-ending vertical lines warping in and out in both directions.
“Can we go eat somewhere else? I’m starving,” Ashdown complained.
“You had your chance,” Pia said, jumping the car from one window-ledge to another in impressive slow motion. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so hungry if you hadn’t dropped all the popcorn when you fainted.”
“I didn’t faint.”
“Ha!” Pia spun around and started walking backwards. She was fizzling with energy, in direct opposition to Ashdown, who was dragging his feet and staring moodily at the floor. “Seriously, cheer the fuck up, mister! We’ve got Merritt’s credit card! We can do whatever the fuck we want!”
“I don’t even know what a credit card is,” Ashdown said with a scowl. “And I don’t want to do anything.”
“I dun wanna do anyfin’,” Pia mimicked in a dowdy, miserable voice, dragging the corners of her lips down. She tossed the toy car from one hand to the other. “Come on. We’ve got days before the Kraken reaches Guernsey. Let’s do something fun. History, literature, art? Boring.” Pia tossed the car high into the air, plastic windshield glittering, and caught it again. “This is your opportunity to do all sorts of weird shit you couldn’t do otherwise!”
“Like what?” Ashdown asked; she could tell he was trying not to sound too curious.
“God, there’s so much!” Pia crashed into a man as she continued to walk backwards and called an apology at him before skipping back to Ashdown’s side. “We could do indoor skiing, go to a football match, visit a spa, clothes shopping, swimming, go into one of those simulators… oh my God, there’s one about killing zombies, you’d love that.” She grinned as he glared at her. “Go to bars and clubs and meet people, go and see live music… we could go to a theme-park! Rollercoasters and shit! And you have got to get a tattoo.” She waved her arms around enthusiastically. “Man, I can’t even list ‘em.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ashdown said warily. “I don’t want to end up doing something I hate. Like that film.”
“Next time, I’ll take you to see a nicer one,” Pia responded with a soothing pat of the head. Ashdown swiped her hand away in irritation and she laughed. “We are gonna have fun, trust me. You could do with loosening up.”
“I suppose there isn’t much for us to do for a couple of days,” Ashdown said doubtfully. “But Mr Moxley said you were only meant to be taking me out to see culture.”
“This is England,” Pia said, tossing her car over the edge of the walkway just to see it gleam as it fell, turning over and over and winking out of sight. “Fish and chips is our culture!”
Title: Fast Food
Rating: PG (language)
Challenge: FOTD: gastronome, Rhubarb ‘My Treat’ #17: you are what you eat (Pia introduces Ashdown to fast food), Grapefruit: batteries not included
Toppings/Extras: fresh peaches, fresh pineapple, malt
Wordcount: 1,107
Summary: Pia Rees tries to make up for the Demon Incident.
Notes: I will write the Demon Incident someday. Gastronome: A connoisseur of good food and drink. Grapefruit PFAH: Pia : it’s a big bright beautiful world. Peaches: Tonight the Moon and Saturn suggest someone is making an important attitude adjustment. Pineapple: “What The Hell”, Avril Lavigne.
“Mate, Happy Meals are for the win,” Pia said as she collapsed into a seat opposite to him with a tray of various foodstuffs. Ashdown narrowed his eyes at her witheringly, which only succeeded in making her giggle. “Aw, come on, Ed! It was just a fuckin’ film!”
She’d taken him to the cinema earlier that day, which hadn’t gone well. Apparently, picking the scariest film of the year for his first ever cinematic experience hadn’t been such a good choice.
How the hell was she meant to know the grumpy sod actually believed in demons?
“I’m sure it’s nothin’ some nice, greasy chips can’t solve,” Pia said waggling her eyebrows at him. The slim man didn’t look impressed with the spread in front of him. He prodded at it and wrinkled his nose.
“It smells bad,” he said.
“You’re just annoyed about the film,” Pia crowed. “I know you!” She popped open a plastic wrapper and fished out a small toy car, turning it over in her hands. It was toxic green, made of plastic, and had little LED lights along the sides. When she pressed the button on the top, nothing happened. “Cheapskates,” she sighed, but went on to drive it all around the table anyway.
Ashdown watched her haughtily.
“What is that?” he demanded eventually.
“’S a car,” Pia said, bringing it screeching dramatically around a paper cup filled with Coke. “Only rich people have ‘em now. You’ll see ‘em on our trip to Wales.”
“We’re going to Wales?” The very thought seemed to disgust Ashdown.
“I have such a surprise for you. You’re gonna love it.”
Ashdown didn’t look convinced in the least, which Pia supposed was justified.
Her gaze wandered around the inside of the little fast food shop they had stopped in, filled mostly with children and parents, the occasional sprawling pride of teenagers and even fewer lone eaters, all of whom looked depressed as hell. When she looked back towards Ashdown, he was scrutinising the food in front of him as though it were some sort of vile, diseased corpse.
“Hey, shucks, come on. Peace.” Pia held up a particularly long chip and let it dangle in front of his face. “I’m sorry. Olive branch of greasy togetherness. We are gonna be best friends for life, agreed?”
“Not bloody likely,” Ashdown muttered, but he took the salty chip from her and looked at it for a moment. “You’re not so bad for a ginger, though,” he added with a smirk.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Lord High-and-Nutty,” Pia said. Then she watched with interest as he ate the chip. He didn’t pull any faces, but after he had swallowed it he furrowed his brow just a tad.
“Disgusting,” he pronounced.
“Ed! You’re not givin’ it a chance!”
“I am not eating any more of this.”
One thing she had learned over time was that it was impossible to change his mind once it was made, pride being more of an issue than stubbornness.
Pia sighed and dragged herself to her feet. She had expected it anyway, but she made a big display of shuffling out of the door and throwing many long-suffering, pouty looks his way. He called her a fool but laughed a little anyway, and soon they were out amidst the skyscrapers with the lowering mid-afternoon sun glancing blindingly from every surface. Pia whipped out a pair of gigantic sunglasses and propped them over her eyes.
“Where did you get those?” Ashdown asked.
“Nicked ‘em off that Scottish gal,” she grinned. “Taisy.”
“Charming.”
Running the wheels of her toy car over the wall alongside her, Pia skipped along the walkway, barging people out of the way to keep her place next to the shining wall. Ashdown trudged behind her, occasionally glancing over his shoulder. The city towered above them and fell away below them, never-ending vertical lines warping in and out in both directions.
“Can we go eat somewhere else? I’m starving,” Ashdown complained.
“You had your chance,” Pia said, jumping the car from one window-ledge to another in impressive slow motion. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so hungry if you hadn’t dropped all the popcorn when you fainted.”
“I didn’t faint.”
“Ha!” Pia spun around and started walking backwards. She was fizzling with energy, in direct opposition to Ashdown, who was dragging his feet and staring moodily at the floor. “Seriously, cheer the fuck up, mister! We’ve got Merritt’s credit card! We can do whatever the fuck we want!”
“I don’t even know what a credit card is,” Ashdown said with a scowl. “And I don’t want to do anything.”
“I dun wanna do anyfin’,” Pia mimicked in a dowdy, miserable voice, dragging the corners of her lips down. She tossed the toy car from one hand to the other. “Come on. We’ve got days before the Kraken reaches Guernsey. Let’s do something fun. History, literature, art? Boring.” Pia tossed the car high into the air, plastic windshield glittering, and caught it again. “This is your opportunity to do all sorts of weird shit you couldn’t do otherwise!”
“Like what?” Ashdown asked; she could tell he was trying not to sound too curious.
“God, there’s so much!” Pia crashed into a man as she continued to walk backwards and called an apology at him before skipping back to Ashdown’s side. “We could do indoor skiing, go to a football match, visit a spa, clothes shopping, swimming, go into one of those simulators… oh my God, there’s one about killing zombies, you’d love that.” She grinned as he glared at her. “Go to bars and clubs and meet people, go and see live music… we could go to a theme-park! Rollercoasters and shit! And you have got to get a tattoo.” She waved her arms around enthusiastically. “Man, I can’t even list ‘em.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ashdown said warily. “I don’t want to end up doing something I hate. Like that film.”
“Next time, I’ll take you to see a nicer one,” Pia responded with a soothing pat of the head. Ashdown swiped her hand away in irritation and she laughed. “We are gonna have fun, trust me. You could do with loosening up.”
“I suppose there isn’t much for us to do for a couple of days,” Ashdown said doubtfully. “But Mr Moxley said you were only meant to be taking me out to see culture.”
“This is England,” Pia said, tossing her car over the edge of the walkway just to see it gleam as it fell, turning over and over and winking out of sight. “Fish and chips is our culture!”