Got myself in a cycle of stress editing / rewriting particular piece which will not go the way I want. So I abandoned it for now and challenged myself to just write a one-off scene that has lived in my head for a long time with no going back and editing or adjusting but just a linear splurge of words and silliness.
It’s entirely ridiculous but here it is anyway (with an affectionate nudge to @crunchyluigi @obeyweegee214 @galaxytransman)
It’s a Secret No-One Knows
6pm on Tracy island and all was quiet as Scott made his way up the stairs into the lounge.
Virgil, Gordon and Alan were still in the air on the way back from a tricky mine rescue in Northern Europe. He was grateful that success had been confirmed on comms as he’d been on the point of ignoring John’s pointed comments about flight hours and heading north.
He’d have been there with them of course if, when the call came in, he and One hadn’t already been plucking panicking, inexperienced climbers off of one of his favourite crags in the Blue Mountains. His nimble ship was always the most suited to such environments and frankly he could have done it in his sleep.
Oh, but it was such a waste of his time and fuel! Enough awful disasters happened around the world every day without people putting themselves into danger because they were more focussed on researching what shots they wanted for their vlog than on the rating of the climb they were undertaking. The names the Aussies had assigned to each route didn’t exactly help - the latest gaggle of idiots had got half way up “Does my Bum Look Big On This?” wearing entirely inappropriate shorts for the weather and got themselves tangled in each others’ safety lines while trying to take selfies from a distinctly unorthodox angle. It had taken every last ounce of self-restraint he had not to accidentally drop their phones into the ravine.
And the next one to use the word ‘gnarly’ was going to experience an Incident with the passenger loading bay door.
Over the ocean.
At Mach 19.
When had young people got so ridiculous?
And when had he stopped being one? He sighed and dragged his hands down his face. Damn, he really was getting old and grumpy.
And probably hangry, now he thought about it. Well that was fixable even if the inexorable march towards irrelevant middle age was not. He made a beeline for the fridge and found himself uninspired by the array of pre-prepared high calorie low effort snacks they usually favoured post mission. He craved something… nutritious…
Ignoring the imagined old-man mockery of the younger brothers who resided in his brain, he pulled out every fresh ingredient they had in stock: Eggs, bacon, sausages, three types of cheese, peppers, spring onions, basil… ah Ha! He knew exactly what this was going to be. A quick rummage in the larder turned up a bag of potatoes and he hefted it over his shoulder, flicking the switch on grandma’s ancient radio as he went past.
Ooh, ‘Happy 90s Hour’ was starting. One of his guilty pleasures as a teenager in the early 50s…
The repetitive peeling and dicing task combined with the irrepressibly cheery pop bangers slowly eased the knot of grouchiness in his chest. By the time he scooped the mountain of potato cubes into the dustbin-lid sized frying pan he was singing along with both halves of the Barbie Girl duet. A pleasing sizzling ensued and he grinned to himself. This was going to be epic. A little prodding with the spatula to cook them evenly then he turned the heat down and did a little slide sideways to fetch the meat and a shuffle and a hop back to add them to the pan.
As John popped up on the kitchen comm, his big brother was too busy volta-ing through the kitchen with a cheese grater to notice. Because you can’t just walk across a room when Ricky Martin is playing. John’s quizzical single eyebrow was rapidly joined by its twin as he spotted the pan on the stove… he cut the connection and leapt into the elevator, sending a message to Virgil to put his proverbial foot down.
Frittata Night was not to be trifled with.
And so it was that all four younger brothers took the elevator up from the hangar together and arrived in a state of some excitement for the culinary experience that awaited them.
As the door opened however Virgil threw out his arms to prevent them piling out. The chatter stopped immediately as they peered round the wall of brother to spy their eldest dancing to and fro at the stove and belting out the words to some ancient pop song:
So hold on to the ones who care
In the end they’ll be the only ones there
When you get old and start losing your hair
Can you tell me who will still caaaaare?
As the chorus dropped so did the jaws of Alan and Gordon for who knew their biggest brother could move his hips like that? And why was he waving the spatula that way? Alan looked wide eyed to John and pointed with a shaking hand as if to ensure his space brother was seeing the same thing he was. John, didn’t acknowledge him, instead staring straight ahead, tapping a finger on the doorframe in time with the beat. Gordon turned to Virgil unable to verbalise beyond “bu.. bu… bu…” only to find his tank of a brother smiling broadly and… his jaw dislocated further… also swaying his hips in time.
Then he was gone.
… And so was John!
Both of them jigging across the floor to join their brother in an honest to goodness dance routine while the three of them sang nonsense words. Alan lost control of his knees and collapsed cross-legged to the floor. Gordon desperately tried to grab his phone to record the moment but fumbled and dropped it down the back of the couch. And then it was over.
And there was frittata.
And if the Tinies were unusually quiet during the meal, the elder three didn’t notice as each treasured the memories of their little dance trio ‘performing’ for their biggest fan. While eating her signature dish.
Fin.
*****
You want the dance routine? Course not… but here is is anyway (Scott starts singing at about 0:40, chorus and excellent hip action kick in at about 0:52)
Edit to add: Weirdly specific note because the precise image is apparently super important to me (clearly been sucked in by the child watching Strictly) and because I forgot there are two types of Volta… this is the move I mean - the samba one (skip to 1:44 of the video and it’s just a few seconds).
73 notes
·
View notes
Thoughts on the astrophage challenge?
(I personally don't think it's real at all, there just isn't enough astrophage for a bunch of dumb teens to be getting their hands on it)
THIS IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT:
DO NOT EAT ASTROPHAGE.
DO NOT EAT ULTRABLACK PAINT. (since that's what they're mostly using; it's super freaking hard to get hold of astrophage on Stratt's Vat, nevermind rural America)
DO NOT POUR ASTROPHAGE OVER YOURSELF.
...Maybe pour ultrablack paint over yourself? I mean, there's no obvious downside besides that being a rather stupid thing to do.
(P.S.: I only have a vague knowledge of who Mr. Beast is but he needs to stop this whole astrophage challenge thing, if what news outlets are reporting is true. Which, to be fair, may not be true.)
18 notes
·
View notes
top 10 people that are not allowed to interact with your blog:
This was not a difficult decision to make, honestly
I can't say I really think of any of these as being my "type," but if you'd put all my favorite people in a lineup, it would look like
1. JBP. "Great, and interesting in a way most people aren't." A few of his posts are pretty good, but overall his writing just doesn't do anything for me. (Although if I could be the kind of person who would write "the kind of person who would write" then I'd happily trade with JBP for this position.)
2. TB. "Oh god, you think he's interesting? There he is! Let's talk to him about his fucking work, and how he was in the Navy, and his dad, and oh god oh shit oh shit." TB gets me to read his posts because they're fun to talk about, and so far as I can tell the sort of stuff he talks about (writing, physics, and stuff on his blog) is very cool. TB is cool
3. LW. "My god, what a stupid person! I despise his stupid brain." LW's brain is so bad, I feel like it is probably bad in ways I'd never guess – as if all the usual badnesses of LW's writing could be intensified a hundred times over, to the point of being physically painful. "What, do you think that writing a line about why he's so good at math proves that he's smart? You don't think he's smart."
4. FQ. "Ugh, so I was reading my new FQ blog, and I guess it's too late for this, but... I'm still not over the idea that she exists." I actually enjoy my interactions with FQ, even though her writing is bad in a lot of ways. Sometimes I think she is a bit cooler than I would be. (Her life seems cool to me because it looks like it involves lots of really good shit, but that is kind of boring and I tend to find "lots of really good shit happens to me" boring even when it isn't)
5. The one I was going to name but forgot. "No no no no no no no no no no NO NOOOO"
6. TBH. "Oh god TBH and I have had this problem before, let's talk about their stupid lives and how much they cannot be helped by doing anything no no no no n0o n0 n0 0." TBH's posts are mostly fun to talk about and TBH's writing is just okay, TBH isn't smart but is more like, "I'll take that over someone who is a total fucking waste of space because their brain is just bad in so many ways that I don't know where to begin"
7. TNC. "Oh god, it's the TNC brain again, what a pathetic person I must be"
8. TB. "I'm just so stupid about TB, it's terrifying how dumb he is."
9. TBH2. TBH2 is like TBH is if TBH weren't bad in so many other ways.
10. HPMOR. TBH I want to read my own blog, and maybe one of my friends who hasn't said "no" yet. "No!"
9 notes
·
View notes
So I know nobody probably cares but you know the custom pillows I got?
:readmore:
Yeah those ones...
I got them from this amazing website called allaboutvibe. You can get there with this link
allaboutvibe.com
Their concept as a company is actually really cool being able to put just about any picture onto both square and custom shaped pillows. Unfortunately the larger pillows can be a bit pricey. Now I don't mean to purposely advertise them or anything but I figured I would just leave my referral link here. Apparently it's good for a 25% discount or something. Not that I expect anyone to actually use it. (I guess it's just in case you decide to buy a pillow and want a discount.)
This was just on my mind the other day.
(Again thanks to @pokemon-ash-aus and @xxtc-96xx for the actual designs on the majority of the pillows I have so far. They deserve just as much credit for the pictures on the pillows)
17 notes
·
View notes
probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.
we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."
at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.
the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.
the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.
what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.
here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.
52K notes
·
View notes
GOTH TUMBLR WRAPPED
you purchased 45 fast fashion clothing items with pentagrams on them!
you called 87 people gatekeepers!
you said that goth is about the vibe, not the music, 536 times!
you listened to 0 goth bands!
you went to 0 goth shows!
you attended the goth club 0 times!
4K notes
·
View notes