A/N: I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this, but I hope I can do it again.
Hello again! Dodged the scout and moved away to avoid the hoard. It’s better to be safe than sorry, so I moved a fair distance. Lucky I don’t have much to carry. Right now I met up with some friends of mine from a while back and Barney just had to root through my stuff and write all over my stuff from before, the prick. Sam's with him, unfortunately.
“You know what? You’re a dick,” I said to asshole Sam like a boss.
“Uh…excuse me?” he tried to say around a mouthful of beans. It sounded more like “Uh…e-oose ee?” with bits of bean flying everywhere. Lovely.
“You’re a dick.”
He swallowed, with slight difficulty. “I know I have one but…where’s this coming from?”
“I dunno. It might be because you’re eating all the damn beans or the fact that you stole my favourite knife...”
“That was one time!”
“Two times, actually. Remember that sweet bowie knife?”
“Oh yeah, the one with the serrated edge and the damn perfect balance-“
She pointed at the rather bloody blade at his feet that he had used to both kill a couple of walkers on their way here as well as open the can of beans. Because the words 'personal hygiene' don't appear in Sam's dictionary.
“Oh. That doesn’t count! What about the other one before? I gave that back, didn’t I?”
“You got it wedged in a tree when you were trying to throw it. I told you the balance wasn’t right and you wouldn’t bloody listen.”
“Well, I’m sorr-y” (sarcasm)
“Gimme the beans.”
“As an apology present.”
“No. Fuck you.”
"Still 'fuck you'."
“Give me the beans unless you want to die,” she hissed, sliding a gun out of her thigh holster and pointing it at his forehead, thought better of it, and pointed it at the can.
“No! The beans! Take my life but spare hers!”
“Just because you’re jealous of Miranda doesn’t mean you can point a gun at her!”
“I don’t know what to say to that,” she muttered as she holstered her gun. "She wasn't even born an hour ago..."
"You're just jealous!"
"Of a can of beans. Yep, you got me. I envy her wrapping so much that I'm jealous."
"Or maybe because of me...?" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and she nealy laughed. Nearly. She settled for giving him a flat look and bending down to get her knife. As she grabbed the Bowie from the ground she snatched the can out of his hands as she straightened.
“Stole your beans!” she squealed as she danced around the camp.
"Do you want to get eaten by a damn walker?" snarled Barney, grabbing Sam's collar. He hadn't gotten his beauty sleep and was damn pissed because he was still ugly.
"Then I suggest you shut the fuck up and stop eating all the damn beans," hissed the Barnacle.
"Ha! Even Barney agrees with me!" she said as she stuck her tongue out at the captured Sam.
"And don't even get me started on you, Wren," growled Barney, acting for all the world like King Kong waving around Fay Wray. That's right, I watched the 1933 version. Wanna go me?
Also something of note, my name is Wren. It is one of the girliest names I have ever heard and I hate it with a passion. I would rather be called W-Dog even if that doesn't work at all. Wait, what about W-Diddy...Snoop W...Maybe DW from 'Arthur'...
Either way, it sucks and any person who knows me even a smidgeon, no, even walkers would be able to tell that I hate it when people call me by my name. Both Sam and Barney know this fact and Barney should not have called me by name when I have a knife.
So maybe I might have tried to stab both Barney and Sam cause he looked so damn smug and he could tell I was pissed and looked damn happy about it, the piece of shit. And maybe I might have been locked into the one room in the whole damn building with a door and walls too high to climb out through the non-existent ceiling.
"At least give me the beans!" I screamed through the door and after a few seconds, the can was thrown over the wall promptly spilt them freaking everywhere over the floor. Of couse, in desperate times come desperate measures, so I ate them because that would be the only food in a long while.
As I cursed Barney and Sam (especially Sam) to oblivion, I fell asleep. Leave it to the apocalypse to make people eat beans off the incredibly dirty floor and sleep on rubble.
A/N: I've realized that as I went through this story editing, I keep jumping from first person to third. I honestly can't decide which to use, but I generally use third for most of my stories that I haven't posted. Third just lets me describe how awesome they are when first lets me have humour. Can you...kinda...tell me which one you prefer? At least for this story, although if you want to have a discussion with me about the awesomeness of third or first, you're more than welcome. You can just post a comment and delete it after a bit if you don't want to comment-comment, if that makes sense. You don't really have to do anything and I'll flip a coin or something... Either way, I hope you enjoy this and I also hope you don't get mad at me for changing all three pages I've posted so far, although two didn't really change much.
P.S. 'A/N' means author's note