log post II

[orangetoughguy]

third person narrative, action bracket spam, anything goes
log post I | log post II | log post III

Comments

[whitetwoguns]

[That's supposed to be a dog? Larry thought it was a polar bear from a distance. Must be the nose. Why a dog would be dressed as a banana, only Freddy could tell. The old man on the other hand is walking out with a big gorilla, nostrils flaring and chest puffed out at some unseen threat. He's a little bit too small to be King Kong. More like Donkey Kong without the tie. That's his only prize besides getting at least four extra balls in the machine.]

I did.

[They had an Archie comic pinball machine. This place is a kick.]

Don't think it was as good of a time as you over all.

[Yeah, he's eying that yoyo.]

[orangetoughguy]

What can I say? It's my kind of place. [He shrugs once, nonchalant and ever so casual.]

Here kid.

[It doesn't take Freddy long to pass the banana-dog off to a short scrappy looking...boy? Girl? That kid's got a Latino Jodie Foster look to it. Regardless, that kid seems pretty happy to get a gift from a stranger. now all he's got left is the yo-yo. That's staying with him.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Larry holds his tongue from asking if everyone here knows his name. Nobody does. Though there is little doubt that they see him as a regular. The way that the banana-dog is passed, that's real fucking sweet. That mulatto kid will never forget it. The old man knows he wouldn't have, free handouts that good are hard to come by.]

What was that?

[There's a grin on his face, kid. This ain't no interrogation.]

[orangetoughguy]

What was what?

[Freddy asks while letting the yoyo loose. Look at that shit light the fuck up, it may as well be a mini-identity disc.]

[whitetwoguns]

That.

[Half a turn behind them to see where the kid has gone. Too late now to see. Shrug and turn back.

What's with young people and things that light up? Though it's pretty fucking cool all lit up like a UFO.]

Now you don't got somethin' big anymore.

[Meanwhile, Larry's still toting his gorilla.]

[orangetoughguy]

A dog in a banana suit?

[Another look, like Larry ought to have known better just by looking at it. Duh. As for something big though...he just hooks his thumb at the big bear with the big ape.]

I got that.

[Which does he mean though hm.]

[whitetwoguns]

Yeah. Sure it wasn't a bear though? [Could have easily been. You couldn't see the ears. He waves the hand. Spare him, kid, won't you?] Made that kid's day.

[In doing so made this old man's day. Fuck, Dimick you're a sap.]

This? Well, you do, don't you.

[Even though he's holding the gorilla he thinks of the other option. All the same, he'll shove it under the wiry arm that isn't handling the yoyo.]

[orangetoughguy]

It had a dog's face to me. [The kid smiles, knowing the old man appreciated the gesture too. Oh wait what? Fff he hooks his arm securely around the ape so it doesn't drop to the ground.] So where's your prize?

[He's not fishing for compliments, not really...]

[whitetwoguns]

My prize?

[He wets his lips, they're feeling dry though he intentionally keeps the action slow nodding to the gorilla and the funny dog holding it.]

Right there. Can't you see?

[orangetoughguy]

[The lip wetting does not go unnoticed one bit.]

Light me a smoke will you?

[whitetwoguns]

[Point of the exercise, champ. Is it strange that Larry's still just as attracted to him after stepping out of some teenager's paradise?]

No problem.

[Larry takes the liberty of removing the box of smokes from the other man's coat, since his arms are full. He puts it to his mouth first though. Flick. Flick goes his lighter.]

[orangetoughguy]

[It shouldn't be strange and anyone who tells Larry otherwise is the real chump.]

Thanks.

[Green eyes are watching, much more earthen and caramel in color than the blue and teal of his new toy.]

[whitetwoguns]

[There are a lotta chumps around, more than the champs and chimps.]

Sure.

[Since he's lighting up, the old man gets a first drag. Inhale holding the smoke and getting the full heady feeling of nicotine. Brown eyes meet those green eyes as he exhales, slowly. Larry's not the kind to make smoke rings.]

[orangetoughguy]

Like this.

[The kid shapes his mouth just right for smoke ring formation, rounded with pursed lips. He makes a soft quick blowing noise, like a puff.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Watching, first for the joy of watching the way his lips move. Then for technique. Okay then. One more puff and he tries it again. Not quite so well, but something rounded comes out at least once.]

Close enough.

[Here, fella. Larry hands over the kid's smoke.]

[orangetoughguy]

Keep trying.

[Does that sound familiar? Maybe if ice skates, a stick, and puck were involved. He adjusts his armful to take the cigarette and blow those rings to one side.]

See? [He smiles.]

[whitetwoguns]

'Course you gotta make it look so damn easy.

[That sound familiar too? Maybe, maybe not. But hell, looks nice having all that smoke roll out in uniformed formation from the careful set of Freddy's mouth.]

Where'd you pick that up?

[Smoking or his signature trick, pick one.]

[orangetoughguy]

I think you'd have a lot more experience in this kinda thing.

[Freddy says in his own--and Larry's own?--defense. Again that mouth purses to form another set of rings.]

School. Someone's brother taught me, said only upperclassmen could do it though. [Obviously this comic book loving kid showed them a thing or two.]

[whitetwoguns]

I think it's more of a some people got it, some people don't deal. I can do it once and awhile.

[Though he might be bias, Larry believes that Freddy has the more skilled mouth. The other rings float in the air, real Alice in Wonderland shit. He's great at it.]

Oh yeah? And lemme guess, you were an underclassmen.

[orangetoughguy]

Maybe you just gotta practice more, you don't need a cigarette the whole time either. [Yep. That's what the kid says, though he doesn't suggest what else the old man could use.]

Yep. Fuck those playground rules though. I figured it out and did it whenever I wanted to.

[whitetwoguns]

I'll practice at home until I know I can show it off for all it's worth. [Not saying how at home either. Though come on, hard not to jump to mental conclusions.]

Your folks didn't know you smoked in high school?

[orangetoughguy]

I'll let you know how you're doin' cause it sounds like I'm the expert. [Another green eyed look, the boy is a monster.]

They knew, they could smell it. Never caught me though. [Actually that's a lie but siblings and trace evidence don't count. Look Freddy didn't say they didn't whip him for smelling like cigarettes either....but after the weed incident cigarettes were the lesser of two evils.] And when I was of age it kinda didn't matter anymore you know?

[He shrugs.] My parents weren't squeaky clean role models either.

[whitetwoguns]

[He ate Larry's heart, brains...everything, this monster.]

With regular, scheduled practice I hope I should get it easy working with a pro like you.

[Stretching out the ambiguity for all it's worth? Why the fuck not. The old man plucks back the cigarette for a brief inhale. Nothing fancy, just wanted a little more. Or an excuse to put something in his mouth of Freddy's again.]

Lucky break for not gettin' caught. I got caught a few times. Stopped caring though. What's the worst they could do? [After a while all threats sound the same unless they really wail on you.] TV families are, and they make everyone feel like the Cunninghams are right down the block.

[orangetoughguy]

[Again green eyes are looking but they're content to save the stretching and yawning and hooding and sucking for home.]

Yeah? What'd you do? Tell'em you didn't give a fuck, tough guy? [He says it like it's a joke but Freddy knows the likelihood is very high.] They sure as hell weren't anything like the Cunninghams.

[The very thought makes Freddy laugh. His family? No way, no matter how small town average kid he might seem.]

[whitetwoguns]

[No rush, no rush. They'll get there. Don't want to disappoint those handsome eyes.]

Fuck was a major offense, like the cherry on top of finding you smoking. It's like writing a formal invite. Not to say I didn't ever do it.

[Shrug.]

Your folks though, they seem okay. [Perfectly imperfect.]