Post by Katty on Jan 22, 2012 21:29:17 GMT 10
Title: Careful Mess
Rating: G
Prompt: #59, King for a day
Summary: Poor Roger just wants a throne. For Rosie. Majorly cracktastic.
“What the hell is this?”
Alex looked up from his pile of boxes, planks and assorted tools, and flushed. “Er, hey. I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.” He brushed his hands on his black skinny jeans as he stood up, wincing as cheap plywood shavings clung to the pants.
Roger’s blue eyes were icy. “So you took the opportunity to fill my loft with garbage?” He sniffed. “I knew giving you a key was a mistake.” His gaze flicked to Delia. “And you had something to do with this, I suppose?” he said, more of a statement than a question.
Delia had started to shake her head when Alex cut in. “It was her idea.” He grimaced. “We went looking for a throne, like you asked.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Delia knew of this place, called Ikea… you might have heard of it? Its Sweedish… very erm, popular” Alex gulped.
“That does not look like a throne.” Roger said, irritated. “I wanted something grand, and imposing, not cheap and mass produced.”
Delia sniffed. “It came flat packed. If Alex had been more manly, it would look like a throne by now.”
Roger was silent for a moment. “You bought me a throne that requires self assembly?” he repeated. “And you are so incapable that you cannot put it together?”
“Its not my fault!” Alex protested. “It needs an Allen key, and they didn’t include one.” He continued to protest before realising Roger was no longer listening to him.
“Get out.” Roger ordered. “Leave this… mess.” He pulled out his Blackberry, and began to scroll through the numbers as his hopeless minions exited the room. Finding the number he required, he began to type out a message.
Alan, I need a favour. Bring some keys. – Roger
Rating: G
Prompt: #59, King for a day
Summary: Poor Roger just wants a throne. For Rosie. Majorly cracktastic.
“What the hell is this?”
Alex looked up from his pile of boxes, planks and assorted tools, and flushed. “Er, hey. I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.” He brushed his hands on his black skinny jeans as he stood up, wincing as cheap plywood shavings clung to the pants.
Roger’s blue eyes were icy. “So you took the opportunity to fill my loft with garbage?” He sniffed. “I knew giving you a key was a mistake.” His gaze flicked to Delia. “And you had something to do with this, I suppose?” he said, more of a statement than a question.
Delia had started to shake her head when Alex cut in. “It was her idea.” He grimaced. “We went looking for a throne, like you asked.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Delia knew of this place, called Ikea… you might have heard of it? Its Sweedish… very erm, popular” Alex gulped.
“That does not look like a throne.” Roger said, irritated. “I wanted something grand, and imposing, not cheap and mass produced.”
Delia sniffed. “It came flat packed. If Alex had been more manly, it would look like a throne by now.”
Roger was silent for a moment. “You bought me a throne that requires self assembly?” he repeated. “And you are so incapable that you cannot put it together?”
“Its not my fault!” Alex protested. “It needs an Allen key, and they didn’t include one.” He continued to protest before realising Roger was no longer listening to him.
“Get out.” Roger ordered. “Leave this… mess.” He pulled out his Blackberry, and began to scroll through the numbers as his hopeless minions exited the room. Finding the number he required, he began to type out a message.
Alan, I need a favour. Bring some keys. – Roger
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!