OOM: This boy could use some Stoli...
Jun. 7th, 2006 02:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bohemian_markNote on the bathroom mirror:
Roger,
I'm negative. Stop angsting.
~Mark
---
Four hours later, when Mark actually does get home from the filming he was overseeing, Roger is leaning back on the couch with a brown paper bag on the table in front of him, and an actual smile on his face. "So. Mimi has to go dance for some bachelorette party thing for someone, and Collins is, as usual in Santa Fe, so we've got this place to ourselves for once. Rather like old times."
Mark cracks up, putting his bag down on his desk chair. "Old times with a bit more food, and solid electricity."
"Well, I could throw the breaker if you really wanted, but I was thinking more along the lines of a celebration being in order." Roger pulls two bottles of Stoli and another of Kahula out of the bag with a bit of a smirk. "Traditional celebration."
"Hey, I can't argue with that." Mark grabs glasses, and plunks in his chair.
---
An hour later...
"Oh, come on. You can't tell me that she's not hot."
"Well, she is, but she's no Mimi."
"Duh, Roger. I'm thinking significant others aside here."
"Just because your girlfriend moos at you..."
"Hey, in some cultures, cows are sacred, so mooing is the expression of the female sacred..."
"Now that's one I haven't heard before."
---
Two hours later...
"You would have about died, Roger. Veternari, the young one, not the Patrician, dropped from the ceiling, and gave rings to the bride and groom."
"Wait. So you're telling me that two blue people got married, with Ford Prefect as one of the groomsmen, in a bunch of blue people, and Vetenari was there? Are you sure you weren't high?"
"Fucking Milliways, man. That's all I can say about it. But, seriously, the bride was hot, and she's nice. And she's a Slayer."
"Hold on. A -Slayer-? Like on that TV show Mimi likes? Fluffy or something like that?"
"Hell if I know. I haven't seen it."
"You're drunk, Mark."
"So are you. But that doesn't change the truth. How the hell do you think I got the purple hair?"
"I wasn't going to ask."
---
Three hours later...
"You shure about thish shutuff?"
"It's Stoli, Mark. We've had it for ages."
"I think I need to go shee the porschelain God. I'm coming, Bilious!"
"You really scare me."
---
Five hours later...
Coming into the room from the party she was dancing, Mimi looked around with rather wide eyes. Roger was lying back on the couch, his Fender on his stomach, passed out drunk. Mark, on the other hand, was slouched in his armchair, curled around a book.
She couldn't help but grin. Guess Mark got good news from the test.
Roger,
I'm negative. Stop angsting.
~Mark
---
Four hours later, when Mark actually does get home from the filming he was overseeing, Roger is leaning back on the couch with a brown paper bag on the table in front of him, and an actual smile on his face. "So. Mimi has to go dance for some bachelorette party thing for someone, and Collins is, as usual in Santa Fe, so we've got this place to ourselves for once. Rather like old times."
Mark cracks up, putting his bag down on his desk chair. "Old times with a bit more food, and solid electricity."
"Well, I could throw the breaker if you really wanted, but I was thinking more along the lines of a celebration being in order." Roger pulls two bottles of Stoli and another of Kahula out of the bag with a bit of a smirk. "Traditional celebration."
"Hey, I can't argue with that." Mark grabs glasses, and plunks in his chair.
---
An hour later...
"Oh, come on. You can't tell me that she's not hot."
"Well, she is, but she's no Mimi."
"Duh, Roger. I'm thinking significant others aside here."
"Just because your girlfriend moos at you..."
"Hey, in some cultures, cows are sacred, so mooing is the expression of the female sacred..."
"Now that's one I haven't heard before."
---
Two hours later...
"You would have about died, Roger. Veternari, the young one, not the Patrician, dropped from the ceiling, and gave rings to the bride and groom."
"Wait. So you're telling me that two blue people got married, with Ford Prefect as one of the groomsmen, in a bunch of blue people, and Vetenari was there? Are you sure you weren't high?"
"Fucking Milliways, man. That's all I can say about it. But, seriously, the bride was hot, and she's nice. And she's a Slayer."
"Hold on. A -Slayer-? Like on that TV show Mimi likes? Fluffy or something like that?"
"Hell if I know. I haven't seen it."
"You're drunk, Mark."
"So are you. But that doesn't change the truth. How the hell do you think I got the purple hair?"
"I wasn't going to ask."
---
Three hours later...
"You shure about thish shutuff?"
"It's Stoli, Mark. We've had it for ages."
"I think I need to go shee the porschelain God. I'm coming, Bilious!"
"You really scare me."
---
Five hours later...
Coming into the room from the party she was dancing, Mimi looked around with rather wide eyes. Roger was lying back on the couch, his Fender on his stomach, passed out drunk. Mark, on the other hand, was slouched in his armchair, curled around a book.
She couldn't help but grin. Guess Mark got good news from the test.
