Here is mine: “I am tired of your criticisms.” “I simply do not understand your vigorous pursuit of this…” “Your desires and mine do occasionally differ significantly, Illya.” “Napoleon, I don’t understand why you need it so badly.” “It’s kind of a fantasy I’ve had for years…” “Apparently our fantasy lives differ significantly.” “The first time I saw it was on the school yard as a kid…” “This is ridiculous. You risked too much!” “But I finally have a Mickey Mantle rookie card in hand! What’s your beef?”
Doyle dragged his hand through his wet hair and shook his head vigorously, whilst muttering about bosses.
"Hey, watch it, Ray. What's your beef with the Cow this time? Drink?"
Doyle held out his hand. "Ta."
"Well?"
Doyle downed the whisky in one. "I don't mind criticism. I don't!" he snarled. "If it's warranted I don't mind it. But this time - You know I had a real desire to make him shut up."
"You didn't?"
"Course not. I like me job. Better than the Yard any day."
I’ve been miserably ill since Monday and I’m only about 50 percent now, but I tried….
The beefy guard shoved Napoleon, hands cuffed behind his back, into a cell barely three yards square, then dropped the limp form of the Russian to the stone floor.
“If you desire a tip,” Napoleon said with an insouciant smile, “you should handle my, ah, baggage more carefully.”
“Take your criticism of the service up with management,” the guard sneered just before his feet were swept from under him by the unexpectedly vigorous blond agent. His arms flailed and his head hit the floor with a thud.
“One guard; how insulting,” Illya tutted scornfully. “We should take our business elsewhere.”
It’s not an infection of any kind, since all my bloodwork came out normal, but my ears are full of fluid (probably from seasonal allergies per the doctor) which triggered severe vertigo. Couldn’t do anything but lie in bed with my eyes closed for several days and couldn’t hold anything down, even water. Ended up in the ER Wednesday for IV fluids when my blood pressure dropped to 103 over 50 and my heart rate sped up to 112. Today I can finally hold down toast and get out of bed for a few minutes without getting too dizzy, but looking at a screen is still hard.
Sorry if TMI. Yours is great. I like a little naughty, but as I said, looking at a screen (or keeping my eyes open at all) is still a struggle.
Comments 58
“I am tired of your criticisms.”
“I simply do not understand your vigorous pursuit of this…”
“Your desires and mine do occasionally differ significantly, Illya.”
“Napoleon, I don’t understand why you need it so badly.”
“It’s kind of a fantasy I’ve had for years…”
“Apparently our fantasy lives differ significantly.”
“The first time I saw it was on the school yard as a kid…”
“This is ridiculous. You risked too much!”
“But I finally have a Mickey Mantle rookie card in hand! What’s your beef?”
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Oh, a very nice mis-lead and a really good use of the words - they all slotted in so well.
Nicely done, olden_fan.
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Hahaha! I felt that way when I was holding a Detective #28 Good job.
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Ahem. Yes. I see what you mean by your 'a little naughty' comment.
This was a lot of fun, it really was. It made me laugh. A seamless use of words.
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Thanks! I'm glad you had fun with it.
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Doyle dragged his hand through his wet hair and shook his head vigorously, whilst muttering about bosses.
"Hey, watch it, Ray. What's your beef with the Cow this time? Drink?"
Doyle held out his hand. "Ta."
"Well?"
Doyle downed the whisky in one. "I don't mind criticism. I don't!" he snarled. "If it's warranted I don't mind it. But this time - You know I had a real desire to make him shut up."
"You didn't?"
"Course not. I like me job. Better than the Yard any day."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Got you here, ain't I?"
Bodie grinned and ruffled Doyle's curls.
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Hahaha, the more I watch stuff like Lewis, the more I understand the whole pub culture. Great job.
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Yes, English pubs are somewhat different from what I know/have seen on TV about American bars.
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They are a constant source of entertainment for me. :DD
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The beefy guard shoved Napoleon, hands cuffed behind his back, into a cell barely three yards square, then dropped the limp form of the Russian to the stone floor.
“If you desire a tip,” Napoleon said with an insouciant smile, “you should handle my, ah, baggage more carefully.”
“Take your criticism of the service up with management,” the guard sneered just before his feet were swept from under him by the unexpectedly vigorous blond agent. His arms flailed and his head hit the floor with a thud.
“One guard; how insulting,” Illya tutted scornfully. “We should take our business elsewhere.”
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This is really good; I like the little twist at the end - so Illya.
A very good use of words.
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I am so sorry to hear that. Is it a cold, the flu, something else?
You wouldn't be able to tell with your drabble. it was perfect.
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Sorry if TMI. Yours is great. I like a little naughty, but as I said, looking at a screen (or keeping my eyes open at all) is still a struggle.
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