Our Front Room is retiring for bed.
SS: Make sure you turn the video off!
INP: Still frightened a ghost girl is going to crawl out of the television and brutally kill you?
SS: As I’ve told you many times, I fully intend for my death certificate to attribute my demise to sexual misadventure.
INP: You could… have sex with the ghost, I guess.
SS: Dude! That Ring chick was minging. Also a little girl. That second one should probably have come first, actually.
INP: We could always find an attractive woman of appropriate age, kill her, and then have her haunt you.
SS: Ooh, that’s the best idea you’ve had since that Velcro/cat thing! Write that down for my Christmas present: “Kill hot chick and have her haunt Squid. With sexy results!”
INP: Feh, I’ll never remember it. “Kill Squid” is about as far as I’m likely to get.
SS: Fine. I guess I’ll have to settle for socks again.
INP: Maybe I'll kill you with the socks.
SS: Can’t it be a Kashmir scarf? Only they feel so soft against my skin.
INP: Are you sure you want the murder weapon to be so effeminate?
SS: Because being strangled to death by a pair of socks just screams masculinity.
INP: Real man’s man sort of socks, made out of scratchiest wool. The sort of sock Vikings wore to put them in the killing mood.
SS: You’re still strangling your male housemate on Christmas day with his present. Tongues are liable to wag.
INP: If you keep throwing up objections I’m just going to go back to setting bear traps around the flat and baiting them with cider.
SS: That was you? I thought it was Lord Mothington’s revenge for stripping him of his title.
INP: Just how big do you remember Lord Mothington being?
SS: Shut up! It’s your fault I don’t have feet anymore! That’s why I’ve been sitting at this damn chair for forty-eight hours!
INP: I hadn’t noticed any difference whatsoever. Wait, what’s this? An entirely unguarded can of cider stood inside an oven that no-one could possibly have switched on!
SS: Yay! Stand asi-OOOWWWWW!!!!
5 comments:
Awesome. Dreaded continuity is slipping in though, as Tycho would point out.
I was a bit confused at what I first read as 'setting beer traps [...] and baiting them with cider'. *blush*
Kashmir scarf? Oh just cut his throat with diamonds, smother him in cassia and shoot him with pearls why don't you?
What's cassia? Will it set off my blue eyes?
I wish I could write as well as Tycho, Jamie. Right now I've only gotten as far as using italics a lot.
It's the bark you make cinnamon from. So I think it might sting your blue eyes actually. But you would smell like Christmas!
That would definitely be adequate compensation for being rendered blind.
Post a Comment