Famous Last Words

Hmm, looks like someone new has finally arrived, but... how do you even pronounce that?

A look of concentrated horror slashes itself madly across Davy's tender face, tears welling in his eyes. Of course, the ninny in the bathroom doesn't see this.

"I have a name you know!" reeks the voice from behind the door. "And can "reeks" even be used to describe speech!?!"

"Shut your trap, Joe!" banshees Davy, tears running down his dimpled cheeks. "What do you mean, someone else takes over? Am I not good enough for you? Has this all been a sham?"

Davy's words border on hysterics, and he soon breaks down, folding like a director's chair to the floor.

"Whoa," our pant-less pansy pronounces, prying himself from his powder-room prison. "First off, you have got to find better similes. A director's chair? Really." He hobbles forward, heaving in a huff. "And secondly, must you scatter these blasted alliterations about with no thought? For shame."

Davy looks up from his wallowing, tear stained cheeks and face full of sobs arching to the ceiling, mouth open in wonderment.

"What are you looking at?" Joe moans, not for the first time that day. "And what are you insinu---!?"

Davy cuts him off in a hushed tone. "Someone up there is angry."

The wanker winks a few times, but with both eyes, which would be blinking. Except that blinking doesn't start with a W, so...

"Would you just shut up?" he hollers, fist raised to the ceiling, seemingly cursing the fan as it gyrates gently.

Davy turns his head now to look at Joe in his spoiled nighty, casting curses and begging for a beating.

"You did this," he intones, coldly. "You made him angry. You are egging him on. You want his wrath!" His voice rose with a shrill crescendo.

"OUT!" Davey yells, dominant for a day.

"Again with the---" Joe starts.

"Leave my home!"

"Alright, alright," Joe the push-over cries, moisture glinting at the corners of his eyes.

Davy just laughs, a boisterous bellow. "I'm not falling for that."

Taking frail Joe by the shoulders, he lifts him to the front door, then sets him down with a quiet thud.

"Learn some adjectives, you dolt!"

"Don't make me more angry than I already am, Joe." Davy's lip now starts to quiver, the drops in his eyes a mirror of those in Joe's.

"You can't be serious," the little eejit exhales.

"I'm sorry," Davy intones sadly as he pushes his precious through the door frame.

Joe falls backward in surprise, arms wheeling and voice screaming. He hits the stone of the front step, and knows that his time is spent.

"You're not killing, me, are you?" he manages to mumble, fearful and frightened.

His eyes roll upward, and stare at the blue sky, the arms of an oak eclipsing the sun.

Well that's just dandy.

And with that thought, the world turns black around him.

The End

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