log post II

[orangetoughguy]

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

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[orangetoughguy]

[Delicious candy bar. Delicious sugar rush before a serving of meat.]

She's fine. You could ask her yourself, you know.

[Freddy says with only half a mouthful of chocolate and peanut butter something or other. He's not that rude.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Clunk he shuts fridge.]

It never really crosses my mind until I see you. [That's about everything. He watches the chocolate disappear between those lips. Idly Larry wonders about that shit that parents say about spoiling dinner with dessert first. What's spoiling it?]

[orangetoughguy]

[Don't ask Freddy, it never spoiled him none. His stomach's pretty tough if bleeding gallons of blood wasn't evident enough. Really someone ought to tell him eating so much shit could aggravate old wounds but the hospital here did some top notch work on his belly.]

I'll tell her you said what's up.

[He offers an impish kind of grin before nosing through what's left of the bags.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Besides all of that, wouldn't the kid have to eat enough food to extend that belly of his? There isn't all that much to it. Unlike the old man, he's not sporting a spare tire of any kind. Then again, Larry's just as oblivious to the danger on his end. These two dogs are a pair.]

If you want.

[Nosing? Hey. Larry pulls the bags from the counter top, wrapping them up.]

You scrounger.

[orangetoughguy]

[That spare tire on Larry looks more like a bicycle tire too so nothing doing, old man, nothing doing.]

Hey. I was looking at that.

[The bags. The stuff. The goods. That salami. Oh since the old man's busy dealing with the other merchandise he'll just go back to cutting that thing open. Maybe it was his plan all along.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Crafty dog. Larry doesn't catch on until he's shoving the plastic bags into the garbage.]

Gonna share that?

[Now that there's nothing more to poke, prod or grab he's leaning on the counter watching Freddy crack into that stick of Salami.]

I might want some.

[orangetoughguy]

Well. Okay.

[Note the candy bar's long been devoured and now Freddy's taking a break for those cigarettes, because now he has an important question to ask Larry.]

How do you want your meat?

[Look he set himself up for that one.]

[whitetwoguns]

[If he wasn't grinning already before, whoo boy.]

Lemme think.

[He pretends to be wracking his brain over it.]

Only one way? Because I like meat several ways.

[orangetoughguy]

I'm listening.

[Freddy the scrounger says around a now lit cigarette. Have a smoke ring, old man.]

[whitetwoguns]

Fresh.

[A small slice for now as an appetizer.]

Whenever.

[Chew, chew. It's nothing. They can talk over meat. Though his grin is a dead giveaway of what he's thinking.]

[orangetoughguy]

Big? Small? Long? Thick? Spicy? Come on, you gotta work with me you know.

[He's playing the entire charade up, fully aware of that grin. Freddy takes a slice for himself too, delicious salami accompanied by the flavor of his Marlboro. Oh and he's still shirtless.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Working like a magnet, the old man steps around the counter. One hand on the kid's torso, feeling downward.]

Hot. Cold. I like it with a lotta flavor. Nothing too spicy, don't want to be over powered. I like em long.

[A second bite, but not before purposefully bumping the kid as he's getting another.]

[orangetoughguy]

Bullshit you don't want to be over powered.

[The kid boldly counters. That paw on his skin is real nice and warm and the bumping does not go unnoticed...but seriously. 'Don't want to be overpowered' he says. Freddy knows for a fact sometimes Lawrence Dimick does.]

[whitetwoguns]

Size yes. Flavor, I think I could be swayed.

[This old man is licking the tips of his fingers. Yeah, Freddy wold know as a matter of fact now wouldn't he?]

I think you got an excellent sense of taste. I'd be down for some of your cuts.

[orangetoughguy]

Do you? I mean you're not just sayin' that cause I'm here with you, are ya?

[The kid can be a tease too. Those green eyes aren't blind to how the old man goes all finger lickin' good on him. It wasn't too long ago Larry was questioning his judgment in associates, though that doesn't really come to mind at the moment. He blows smoke aside.]

[whitetwoguns]

Why would I say that because you're here. I bought the meat.

[Ho ho. A new development to change it up a little. Freddy's no fucking fool though. No sir. This entire subject feels good and has nothing to do with any venom spewed out from any previous conversation. Don't want to wreck the flavor.]

I like what you got, what you're puttin' out.

[orangetoughguy]

Whoa whoa wait a second. So I'm the one who's got to put out? What the fuck am I on display or somethin'?

[Nothing serious, just dicking around. With salami.]

[whitetwoguns]

Nah, but your particular tastes, they're enough to get other people to try it.

[He'll take another bit and put it in his mouth. A few chews before saying]

You made me like cereal more than I did. Got me eating it out of your hand practically.

[orangetoughguy]

Really? You like my Fruit Brute, Capn Crunch, Rice Krispies, Cheerios, and Honeycombs?

[As a reward, have a slice of salami from Freddy's hand, Lawrence Dimick.]

[whitetwoguns]

I always liked Cheerios. I had never tried Fruit Brute.

[The kid is too fucking kind. Larry keeps his hands flat on the counter top as he leans forward to get it. Teeth first, then tongue swiping to make sure he's got it. More tongue after chewing.]

[orangetoughguy]

[Nicotine stained fingertips do a little wiggling at those lips, getting them slightly wet before he tastes them himself.]

Well I'm glad to be some kinda service to you.

[whitetwoguns]

[Why do they keep eating out again? Oh. That's right. Two grown men can't live on finger food alone. Still though, they should try and do this more often.]

More than that.

[Larry gives him a bump on the way back to the fridge for beer.]

Talk to that friend of yours?

[He's banking on the fact that the reestablished harmony is solid, rock steady even. They're on speaking terms. And it's one simple question. The kid can answer however he pleases. And hey, if he evades, well, Larry can't say he doesn't blame him. One of these days though, these questions are going to bite him in the ass again.]

[orangetoughguy]

[Oh here we go. Keep it cool, Newendyke. He's a jealous old bear and you know what he wants to hear but you know he'll take what you've got to say too. Will it wreck this salami peace?]

Yeah, I did. I told him all that wholesome organic shit and whatever's a noble cause but I ain't gonna stop eatin' tacos and cheap Chinese, so maybe we shouldn't be friends anymore.

[It's a joke that answers nothing beyond cementing the fact that he'll always have a preference for this bear's diet than that...what is he anyway, a lynx? Anyway, that Lynx's diet.]

[whitetwoguns]

[A beer for Freddy too. Larry pops off the top of his, no opener needed. Then on to Freddy's. He's listening, calm even. He doesn't trust much, but he trusts the kid. And if he's gonna make an ass of himself with this suspicion business and ruin their reconciliation that'll be his own damn fault. Waiting, breathing, listening like a good bear in a friendly environment.]

Oh yeah? What did he say to that?

[A smile is breaking way to easily over his face as he takes a drink. It's got to be bullshit, but fuck it's nice bullshit to hear.]

[orangetoughguy]

[Watching him twist those caps off raises his temperature just a bit. He gives a nod of thanks for his own bottle. Larry's playing along, Freddy can tell that much, and it makes him smile too.]

He called me a Republican.