ladytalon1 (ladytalon1) wrote in just_the_fics, @ 2009-02-08 09:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | mike rogo, poseidon adventure |
Drabbling With Mike. Again.
100 words, prompts from guinny_hamilton
If there was anything more annoying than the requisite old lady who tried to fix him up with her granddaughter’s niece’s second cousin’s best friend’s sister who played violin, it was the stereotypical shipboard wedding. There always were garlands of flowers even though they weren’t anywhere close to Hawaii, some idiot with a ukulele, and at least three doves released into the sky where there was no land for miles. The birds would probably die of sheer exhaustion before they were able to roost someplace.
Besides; whenever he saw a dove, he had the irrational longing for a twelve-gauge shotgun.
Mike smirked, envisioning picking off the stupid birds one by one and watching the horrified expressions of the other passengers as he blew imaginary smoke from the barrel of his gun, but shifted his thoughts to another, much safer topic. If Katie knew about that particular flight of fancy, he’d have more trouble than he’d know what to do with – for some reason, she loved birds and had even gotten upset the time they’d watched the movie Mars Attacks and the aliens had fried a budgie or something with one of their ray guns or whatever it was they used.
After scouting the surroundings for any terrorist activity and coming up with only a handful of divorcees who thought he was the catch of the day, Mike fled the sundeck for the seclusion of his own room. Only a few more days to go until they were in port once again, and he could go home where he didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than he really was – and a trash can was only a trash can. Walking inside, he bent to pick up an orchid that had fallen to the deck and twirled it between his fingers.
He’d managed to avoid any further advances of fellow passengers, and it was with extreme relief that Mike stepped from the ramp and dropped his bag on the side of the pier as he reached for his cell. No-one picked up and he felt slightly disappointed that she hadn’t answered. It’s not like she doesn’t have a life, too. Moments later when he knelt to look in his bag, someone’s hands clapped over his eyes. “Guess who?”
“A midget terrorist?”
“Noooo.”
“The small embodiment of an ancient Chinese Curse?”
“Yes – the Marriage Curse has caught up with you at last.”