[Day one without Mister Dog was harder than the old man imagined. Not hard like it was integrating into their new homeland or realizing that they've had their whole life changed. But hard in a way that he had to stop purposely dropping a chip or two on the floor because no one would be there to eat it.
And he did make it a point to commend those detective skills from the one and only cop he trusts. That's Freddy.]
Hey.
[Said to that brilliant detective.]
What do you feel like eating?
[The old man is sprawled on the couch not quite watching the game show on the tube.]
[While the kid resented having to share scraps with the big old beast he has to admit seeing Larry drop a chip or two (sometimes in a way where he thinks Freddy won't notice) just makes him sad. Stupid dog. Stupid Rey Ray. Stupid everything. Sigh.]
I dunno. Mexican?
[He suggests from the matching chair where he's also sprawled out because frankly the old man is a big guy and there's not enough room on that couch for the two of them (when they're not doing a horizontal boogie).
Also his food suggestion is a joke, old man. Because they're in Mexico. Get it??]
[Because it is clearly one fella's favorite. Tacos would cheer him up. Favorite food with his favorite guy. If only they could find a favorite place. That City joint was so good. Their struggle continues.]
They got other places.
[Meaning that he didn't get it like you meant it, funny guy. Larry still smiles.
Small couch, small chair, small place for their small budget for now. Even so making their own food will never be a thing except for microwave kinds.]
I don't want you getting sick of it.
[Larry moves to sit up. The furniture grunts and it scrapes a little on the floor. A normal noise. Their place is filled with em.]
[Being a smoker and an eater of things straight from the can oh and also beer with his cereal. Freddy's up on his feet now seeing the spot on the couch open up but...
[Now the old man is on his feet too. He steps lightly, following the noise. Not behind the entertainment center. Not by the trash. It's the door. He stands to the side and then slooowly unlocks.]
I don't think it's a rat.
[He turns the knob and then tries to look to their doorstep with only a sliver of the door open. A big, thumping tail his against the wood and the rest of a furry body tries to press through.]
[Freddy asks, seeing that nose push in, then a big old skull, followed by broad doggie shoulders and a thick torso. The dog is in. As if the old man was really going to keep Mister Dog out.
[Put him out? He just got here! Larry shuts the door. Mister Dog is still whining a little. His tail wags and wags.]
What's the matter with you? Huh? Did you go for a walk?
[Still a dog. Still can't talk. He knees and suddenly he's getting a face full of dog sniffing, snorting and trying to taste after shave. Okay. Greeted the old one. The other one? Look out Freddy, he's comin' for you!]
[Really? Says the guy who can make toast. Larry sighs too. All the pats to the dog. The canine and the older man sit. Except the dog sits on Freddy's foot.]
You really think he came back because the food was better?
[Things that come out of that mouth. Shit. It would be more judgmental if the old man wasn't smiling.]
[It's a testicle thing, or so Freddy is convinced anyway. It's easier than throwing the big heavy weight out. He can barely get the dog off his foot. And nobody wants to have to wipe that smile off an old man's face.]
[Pat. Pat. Mister Dog's tail thumps on the ground. He doesn't understand what they're saying. Nothing doing. Just being a dog and picking up like he never left.]
Couldn't stand the lady and her brat.
[Yeah. That son of hers was a brat no matter what age or affiliate.]
[The beast can't possibly understand or appreciate the glory of dick sucking quite the way Freddy can. Ahem.]
You think they're looking for him?
[Based on the kid's earlier investigation the answer is 'kind of, maybe, not really, only when it's convenient'. It's not Marisol's fault though, she's getting old. The brat brought the dog in the first place, Marisol was Mister Dog's small mercy. Well, until these guys.]
[Pat pat to the dog as he looks at Larry with a healthy amount of skepticism because the old man is totally trying to say something just spit it out already, Dimmy.]
[He could burst right about now. Larry leans in on Freddy but not in the way that Mister Dog is. With an arm around his shoulder and his mug up in his face.]
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orangetoughguy) wrote2010-08-06 11:39 pm
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And he did make it a point to commend those detective skills from the one and only cop he trusts. That's Freddy.]
Hey.
[Said to that brilliant detective.]
What do you feel like eating?
[The old man is sprawled on the couch not quite watching the game show on the tube.]
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I dunno. Mexican?
[He suggests from the matching chair where he's also sprawled out because frankly the old man is a big guy and there's not enough room on that couch for the two of them (when they're not doing a horizontal boogie).
Also his food suggestion is a joke, old man. Because they're in Mexico. Get it??]
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[Because it is clearly one fella's favorite. Tacos would cheer him up. Favorite food with his favorite guy. If only they could find a favorite place. That City joint was so good. Their struggle continues.]
They got other places.
[Meaning that he didn't get it like you meant it, funny guy. Larry still smiles.
Small couch, small chair, small place for their small budget for now. Even so making their own food will never be a thing except for microwave kinds.]
I don't want you getting sick of it.
[Larry moves to sit up. The furniture grunts and it scrapes a little on the floor. A normal noise. Their place is filled with em.]
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[Just food, he says. Look take the invitation to indulge in comfort grub, Dimmy, Freddy's practically serving it up on a silver platter.
Scratch scratch creak.]
....On second thought maybe you need to lay off the greasy stuff.
[Freddy jokes.]
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You mean order a taco salad?
[He's sitting up right but a scratch noise goes on for a bit....and then stops.]
Enough about me though, you should try a little more greens. And not the salsa verde.
[Sitting up might make more room on the couch for two if someone's willing.]
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[Being a smoker and an eater of things straight from the can oh and also beer with his cereal. Freddy's up on his feet now seeing the spot on the couch open up but...
Scratch scratch scratch. Whine.]
Motherfucker we have rats.
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[A big arm drapes behind where he thinks Freddy is going to sit. Now he can hear it.]
Jesus fuckin' Christ! That's the one thing that the goddamn land lord said we wouldn't have.
[Except the particular pitch of the whine. Larry leans forward and freezes. No. It can't be? Can it?]
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[Whut. Is that what he thinks he heard....no. It can't be. Really?? Freddy's expression grows skeptical.]
Must be a big rat....
[Or a big old Mister Dog. Or worse, word traveled down the barkvine and now all mutts think this is a halfway house.]
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I don't think it's a rat.
[He turns the knob and then tries to look to their doorstep with only a sliver of the door open. A big, thumping tail his against the wood and the rest of a furry body tries to press through.]
Son of a gun.
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[Freddy asks, seeing that nose push in, then a big old skull, followed by broad doggie shoulders and a thick torso. The dog is in. As if the old man was really going to keep Mister Dog out.
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What's the matter with you? Huh? Did you go for a walk?
[Still a dog. Still can't talk. He knees and suddenly he's getting a face full of dog sniffing, snorting and trying to taste after shave. Okay. Greeted the old one. The other one? Look out Freddy, he's comin' for you!]
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[In any other situation Freddy would sound like an aviator shades wearing cop. Oh no here he comes all sixty-something pounds of him.]
Hey hey calm down, don't jump on me...!
[Hands flap out to ensure the dog doesn't knock him down on the couch.]
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Marisol was really happy to see him.
[So happy that she shed a tear or two when Paco came back. Thankfully Freddy's let that one slide a little. He's still Mister Dog.]
He must have run away.
[Larry comes back to the couch from the door. He's trying to stifle the glad look on his face.]
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[Yep. Freddy said it. Oof, he flops into the couch and pat pat pats Mister Dog on the big head. Sigh.]
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You really think he came back because the food was better?
[Things that come out of that mouth. Shit. It would be more judgmental if the old man wasn't smiling.]
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He's a dude. We're dudes. We get it.
[It's a testicle thing, or so Freddy is convinced anyway. It's easier than throwing the big heavy weight out. He can barely get the dog off his foot. And nobody wants to have to wipe that smile off an old man's face.]
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[Pat. Pat. Mister Dog's tail thumps on the ground. He doesn't understand what they're saying. Nothing doing. Just being a dog and picking up like he never left.]
Couldn't stand the lady and her brat.
[Yeah. That son of hers was a brat no matter what age or affiliate.]
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[The beast can't possibly understand or appreciate the glory of dick sucking quite the way Freddy can. Ahem.]
You think they're looking for him?
[Based on the kid's earlier investigation the answer is 'kind of, maybe, not really, only when it's convenient'. It's not Marisol's fault though, she's getting old. The brat brought the dog in the first place, Marisol was Mister Dog's small mercy. Well, until these guys.]
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They should. I mean, she was looking for him at least. I sure didn't see anything like that from that no good piece of shit living with her.
[Mister Dog shoves his face into Larry's lap even though he's farther than Freddy. Just laying over both of them.]
He didn't seem to have complaints while here. ...Not that that's the point here.
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[...........Mister Dog is heavy. What is he doing. Why is he draping? He's not a cat?? Sigh. Freddy gives the beast a pat pat to the back.]
She probably feels sorry for him.
[No the kid will not be the first to suggest Mister Dog stay with them for the night.]
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I sort of do too. He's not another kid. He can't just go on and make choices that he wants and go on from there. I mean, dogs stay where they are.
[They're supposed to!]
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[Pat pat to the dog as he looks at Larry with a healthy amount of skepticism because the old man is totally trying to say something just spit it out already, Dimmy.]
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[Should. That took so much effort to say. So much effort. He looks at Freddy next to him.]
She's missing him.
[He automatically assumes. Are you proud of him yet, kid?]
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[Yes he is. And yet. That face. The dog's face too, goddamnit. Sigh.]
Not now, he just got here.
[Are you proud of him yet, old man??]
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We'll let 'em visit.
[Since he just got here.]
Nap. Maybe have chow.
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