items marked with * contain spoilers
for the end of the series
Please note that all stories contain adult language.
To clear up
a recurring misconception, Big Big Truck (me, EK) and Agent Orange are NOT
the same person.
If you'd like to compliment Agent Orange on her stories, her e-mail address
is: orangeglow151[at]yahoo[dot]com.
"There
was no 'don't ask, don't tell' deal struck between us, you know. And don't
tell me to mind my own business because I was just knee deep in his business
a few hours ago. So? Does he do this a lot?" Jet sighed deeply before admitting, "I've never seen him this bad if that's what you mean. But, yeah. He kinda does this crap a lot. Like, pulling stupid stunts and things. Tonight, though, was different." "How so?" "You were there. You tell me." Well, OK. He was right. I did know how it was different. At least intrinsically. I just wanted to know why it was different, but I was suddenly doubtful that Jet could tell me. I think there was a lot of stuff even those two didn't know about each other in those days." |
"Ok...how about
Jet is the drunken dad, Spike is his live-in lover and I'm his neglected
wife," Faye suggested. "Ed can be Jet's love child from a previous marriage." |
|
"At some point in the course of human history, it was decided that a dog's life was an easy life. I can't imagine where they got that idea, although, humans have an irritating habit of making things up to suit their purpose. " | |
"Women get a bad rap in these situations. Go all the way back to Adam and Eve, you'll see what I mean. We're the vile temptresses, right? We can bring both men and kingdoms to their knees, sometimes in the same breath. We single handedly took down all of Camelot. We started the Trojan War just by being there. We wreak all sorts of havoc in Shakespeare plays. And now this." | |
Somewhere in the
course of the three-second conversation it became about winning. Spike
didn't know why, but something inside him became insistent that he drive
this car. "It can't be much different from flying." |
|
"Any memories I dug up were deliberate and laborious. Like, maybe I should be thinking about him now and then I was. But it didn't feel real. It didn't feel genuine. And that made me feel guilty. You know what I think it is? You know why I can't figure out how to handle this properly? I don't know the next step." | |
"He
felt his throat choke up briefly, and then relax. And it was back to feeling
nothing. He was all feeling-ed out. Because as disappointed that he was that he was alive, he was even more depressed to discover only a month and half had passed since. That meant that everything he had just tried to leave in a blaze of glory was still around. All the loose ends he had so masterfully left hanging were still dangling there, waiting to strangle him. It was all still here, and in six weeks, probably pretty much as he had left it." |
|
"What's Jet gonna
put on the Christmas tree?" Ed said finally. |