dusting off this account

[killthisparty]

That ain't fair. It ain't fuckin' fair.

Another one? Pluckin' the lil' bit straight outta -- I mean what the FUCK is up with that.

It ain't fair.




--An' those two. They better take care 'a her. I don't care what happened, they gotta get their shit together make it better fer 'er.




God fuckin' knows we can't.

Comments

[kidjoy]

Says who? Just as much my job as the others.

[She ducks under his hand, smiling. She kicks at his ankles again.]

[killthisparty]

[ He moves to step on her toes, purposely missing. ]

Y' got a song fer ever'thin', huh? Lil' brat.

[kidjoy]

[A snort.]

Course I do. Imma 'joy, ain't I? Don't like me being a brat, you shoulda raised me different.

[killthisparty]

'Ey, s' a good thing. [ You know how many times he's been called that? About as many as he's been called a runt. He thrives on it! ]

[kidjoy]

Being a brat or being the brat you made?

[killthisparty]

Both. Who's ever won by bein' a nice guy?

[kidjoy]

Not like you'd ever know. [None, she's willing to bet.]

[killthisparty]

Damn straight. Only thing nice about me 're my looks. [ Heh. ]

[kidjoy]

[She raises a hand, waves it in a so-so motion.] I wouldn't go that far.

[killthisparty]

Excuse you. [ Complete with an offended, shocked look and a hand on his hip, which isn't as ironic as someone would think it was. ] Nobody disses the face.

[kidjoy]

Just did. [The sass might work better if she could keep a smile off her face.] Pretty sure everyone does P, ya just ain't paying attention.

[killthisparty]

[ This isn't even real sass. He reserves real sass for people he doesn't like. She gets Sass: Friendly Edition™ because she's his little spark. ]

Ya'll just need yer headlights checked. Got sand in there or somethin'. Somethin' ain't right.

[kidjoy]

[She tuts at him, wagging a finger.]

Sayin’ nasty lies just ya just don’t wanna admit it. ‘s okay, Party. We keep ya ‘round for more than that face.

[killthisparty]

Still think there's somethin' wrong wit' ya. Desert madness, is what it is.

[kidjoy]

You're calling me mad? All the dye is gettin' to your brain, P. I ain't the crazy one.

[killthisparty]

'Ey 'ey 'ey, no one ever proved it did that.

[kidjoy]

Proof's standin' right in front of me.

[killthisparty]

A bunch'a lies! Ain't likin' your tone, lil' missy.

[kidjoy]

Whatcha gonna do about it then? Huh, big guy?

[killthisparty]

You pickin' a fight? Eh? Fistycuffs and shit?[ Fistycuffs, Party what the fuck. ]

[kidjoy]

Fistywhat? [Ugh Party, don't been lame. She pulls a face, snorts at him.] Ain't no fight against someone who talks all prissy like that.

[killthisparty]

Prissy?! I ain't no prissy! [ Amazing grammar. ] Fuck off wit' that. "Prissy", shit.