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lobelia321FICLET: "Entertaining a Visitor"
SERIES: Nr. 8 of the boring!Orli storyverse. Nr. 7 is here.
Also, if you want to catch up on nrs 1-5, they are now up on my niche.
Author: Lobelia; lobelia40@yahoo.com
Pairing: Orlando Bloom / Johnny Depp
Category: Veering towards slash!
Summary: Orli amazes with suspense-filled narrating skills.
A/N: Remember the gas man in nr. 3?
-----
"And who was it? Who was at Dom's door?"
Johnny sat perched on the edge of Orli's grey, fishbone-patterned Himalayan-wool settee, mug with post-prandial tea-gone-cold in his hand, shoes side by side on the parquet, red-and-white striped socks side by side on the Homebase faux-Navajo rug on which stood the coffee table.
In the kitchen, a wrench clinked against a pipe. It was the gas inspector, prone in front of the boiler.
"Well," Orli said and moved his head through his freshly-washed hair (which smelled faintly of mud), "it was the next-door neighbour."
"Really?" breathed Johnny and leaned forward, angling his torso toward Orli on the Moroccan pouffe which latter item was a souvenir from bygone days.
"Yes, the next-door neighbour. Hang on, do you think he's actually breaking something?" Orli inclined his ear in the direction of the kitchen.
"No, no, don't worry about it. Tell me about the next-door neighbour? Man or woman?"
"Woman. She was the twin sister of the woman who had given me the parcel. Dom said 'hello' because he knows her to say 'hello' to. She said, 'Give me the tape.' Dom said, 'What tape?' When we heard sirens in the street, I gave her the tape."
"Hang on, hang on, hang on! Can you run all that by me again?"
"Well, the woman was the twin..."
"Yeah, yeah, what? Did you say twin? The twin sister? You mean, she looked exactly like that woman who gave you the parcel in front of the supermarket while sinister gunmen were firing shots at you? And she turns out to be the fucking twin sister of that woman? Looking exactly like her, except with an arm that's not bleeding? And confusing you at first because you thought it was that very same woman?"
"That's it. You understood perfectly."
"Yeah, yeah, I mean, shit. This is total drama, Orli-mate! This is, like, high adventure! What next? What happened next?"
"I gave her the parcel because I figured out that it had the tape she wanted inside it."
"Yeah, Orli, that was fucking obvious. But were you out of your mind? You gave her the tape? Why?"
Orli shrugged. "She had a knife. Hang on, I just have to check up on the gas guy."
Orli stood up, walked into the kitchen and looked at the man in the boiler suit with the British Gas logo sewn onto his breast pocket.
"Right, guvnor, I need to order in some parts for this one. You've got a real problem here. Who was the last bloke to fix this gas pipe? It's a complete botch."
"Is this going to cost a lot? Is this going to take a long time?"
"Right, guv. I'll have to come back next week. I've got to order in some parts, see? See this tripartite double-sluiced onto-mega screwtop valve? That's got to be refitted with a bipolar semi-vulval homo-confucian uppertop nut-and-bolt."
"I see. How much will that cost?"
"I couldn't say. It depends. Look, I'll be back next week. Sign this, please."
Meanwhile, Johnny sat in the living room. He took a sip from the cold tea, grimaced, put the tea down, put his hand on the still-warm seat of the pouffe, smiled, shuffled down the length of the settee in the direction of the pouffe, put his hand on the pouffe again, stroked the pouffe, and adjusted his balls in his trousers.
"What a crisis," said Orli and sat back down.
"What? The gunman drama? The mysterious tape?"
"No, this gas thing. It's really a pain. Apparently, the man has to come back next Tuesday."
"Oh, never mind that stupid man. Tell me what happened to the tape! Did you at least get to watch it?"
"Funny that you say that. Because the woman took the tape and put it into Dom's VCR. Maybe because she thought the cops would raid her place first and she wanted to test the tape first."
"So what was on the fucking tape, Orli?!"
"This is odd. It was a tape of me and Dom."
"You and Dom?"
"Yes. Me and Dom."
Johnny was perched so far forward on the settee that he now slid off it altogether and landed on his bottom, creasing the Navajo rug. "Fuck, Orli-mate! This is sensational stuff! You and fucking Dom! I mean, you fucking Dom! I mean... no, that's not what I mean. Oh, Orli!"
He put his hand on Orli's knee.
"It wasn't pornographic," Orli said.
"Oh," said Johnny and took his hand off Orli's knee.
"It was just an interview, taped off TV or something. It was just Dom and me, sitting in front of a Lord of the Rings poster and being interviewed."
"Yeah, but still, it's a bit much of a coincidence, don't you think? Woman throws herself at you in a gunfight. Woman gives you tape. Tape is of you! Woman tells you to go to an address next to Dom's place. Shit, Orli! Did you ever figure out what this is all about?"
"Oh, the police is working on it. I signalled to them out of the kitchen window while the woman was fast-forwarding the tape. They took her into custody."
"What? Didn't she struggle? Didn't they have to break the door down? Didn't she hold Dom hostage with that knife against his throat or whatever?"
"Oh, yes. All that happened. But now she's safely put away. And I managed to get to the chemist's before closing time to get my ointment."
"Your ointment?"
"My prescription. I have a wart on my penis, you know."
Johnny spluttered. Johnny's hand swept across the coffee table and upset the tea.
Orli jumped up, walked briskly into the kitchen, fetched the wipe cloth from the side of the sink, came back in, returned the mug to an upright position and wiped the table. A few drops had fallen onto the parquet floor. Orli knelt down and wiped them off with the clean corner of the cloth.
"A wart?" said Johnny in a strangled voice. "On your cock?"
"Yes. It doesn't hurt."
"Do you..." said Johnny. "Shall I... Do you want me to rub the ointment in for you?"
TBC
----
23 June 2003, 12.:21 pm, t'reference library
lobelia40@yahoo.com
SERIES: Nr. 8 of the boring!Orli storyverse. Nr. 7 is here.
Also, if you want to catch up on nrs 1-5, they are now up on my niche.
Author: Lobelia; lobelia40@yahoo.com
Pairing: Orlando Bloom / Johnny Depp
Category: Veering towards slash!
Summary: Orli amazes with suspense-filled narrating skills.
A/N: Remember the gas man in nr. 3?
-----
"And who was it? Who was at Dom's door?"
Johnny sat perched on the edge of Orli's grey, fishbone-patterned Himalayan-wool settee, mug with post-prandial tea-gone-cold in his hand, shoes side by side on the parquet, red-and-white striped socks side by side on the Homebase faux-Navajo rug on which stood the coffee table.
In the kitchen, a wrench clinked against a pipe. It was the gas inspector, prone in front of the boiler.
"Well," Orli said and moved his head through his freshly-washed hair (which smelled faintly of mud), "it was the next-door neighbour."
"Really?" breathed Johnny and leaned forward, angling his torso toward Orli on the Moroccan pouffe which latter item was a souvenir from bygone days.
"Yes, the next-door neighbour. Hang on, do you think he's actually breaking something?" Orli inclined his ear in the direction of the kitchen.
"No, no, don't worry about it. Tell me about the next-door neighbour? Man or woman?"
"Woman. She was the twin sister of the woman who had given me the parcel. Dom said 'hello' because he knows her to say 'hello' to. She said, 'Give me the tape.' Dom said, 'What tape?' When we heard sirens in the street, I gave her the tape."
"Hang on, hang on, hang on! Can you run all that by me again?"
"Well, the woman was the twin..."
"Yeah, yeah, what? Did you say twin? The twin sister? You mean, she looked exactly like that woman who gave you the parcel in front of the supermarket while sinister gunmen were firing shots at you? And she turns out to be the fucking twin sister of that woman? Looking exactly like her, except with an arm that's not bleeding? And confusing you at first because you thought it was that very same woman?"
"That's it. You understood perfectly."
"Yeah, yeah, I mean, shit. This is total drama, Orli-mate! This is, like, high adventure! What next? What happened next?"
"I gave her the parcel because I figured out that it had the tape she wanted inside it."
"Yeah, Orli, that was fucking obvious. But were you out of your mind? You gave her the tape? Why?"
Orli shrugged. "She had a knife. Hang on, I just have to check up on the gas guy."
Orli stood up, walked into the kitchen and looked at the man in the boiler suit with the British Gas logo sewn onto his breast pocket.
"Right, guvnor, I need to order in some parts for this one. You've got a real problem here. Who was the last bloke to fix this gas pipe? It's a complete botch."
"Is this going to cost a lot? Is this going to take a long time?"
"Right, guv. I'll have to come back next week. I've got to order in some parts, see? See this tripartite double-sluiced onto-mega screwtop valve? That's got to be refitted with a bipolar semi-vulval homo-confucian uppertop nut-and-bolt."
"I see. How much will that cost?"
"I couldn't say. It depends. Look, I'll be back next week. Sign this, please."
Meanwhile, Johnny sat in the living room. He took a sip from the cold tea, grimaced, put the tea down, put his hand on the still-warm seat of the pouffe, smiled, shuffled down the length of the settee in the direction of the pouffe, put his hand on the pouffe again, stroked the pouffe, and adjusted his balls in his trousers.
"What a crisis," said Orli and sat back down.
"What? The gunman drama? The mysterious tape?"
"No, this gas thing. It's really a pain. Apparently, the man has to come back next Tuesday."
"Oh, never mind that stupid man. Tell me what happened to the tape! Did you at least get to watch it?"
"Funny that you say that. Because the woman took the tape and put it into Dom's VCR. Maybe because she thought the cops would raid her place first and she wanted to test the tape first."
"So what was on the fucking tape, Orli?!"
"This is odd. It was a tape of me and Dom."
"You and Dom?"
"Yes. Me and Dom."
Johnny was perched so far forward on the settee that he now slid off it altogether and landed on his bottom, creasing the Navajo rug. "Fuck, Orli-mate! This is sensational stuff! You and fucking Dom! I mean, you fucking Dom! I mean... no, that's not what I mean. Oh, Orli!"
He put his hand on Orli's knee.
"It wasn't pornographic," Orli said.
"Oh," said Johnny and took his hand off Orli's knee.
"It was just an interview, taped off TV or something. It was just Dom and me, sitting in front of a Lord of the Rings poster and being interviewed."
"Yeah, but still, it's a bit much of a coincidence, don't you think? Woman throws herself at you in a gunfight. Woman gives you tape. Tape is of you! Woman tells you to go to an address next to Dom's place. Shit, Orli! Did you ever figure out what this is all about?"
"Oh, the police is working on it. I signalled to them out of the kitchen window while the woman was fast-forwarding the tape. They took her into custody."
"What? Didn't she struggle? Didn't they have to break the door down? Didn't she hold Dom hostage with that knife against his throat or whatever?"
"Oh, yes. All that happened. But now she's safely put away. And I managed to get to the chemist's before closing time to get my ointment."
"Your ointment?"
"My prescription. I have a wart on my penis, you know."
Johnny spluttered. Johnny's hand swept across the coffee table and upset the tea.
Orli jumped up, walked briskly into the kitchen, fetched the wipe cloth from the side of the sink, came back in, returned the mug to an upright position and wiped the table. A few drops had fallen onto the parquet floor. Orli knelt down and wiped them off with the clean corner of the cloth.
"A wart?" said Johnny in a strangled voice. "On your cock?"
"Yes. It doesn't hurt."
"Do you..." said Johnny. "Shall I... Do you want me to rub the ointment in for you?"
TBC
----
23 June 2003, 12.:21 pm, t'reference library
lobelia40@yahoo.com
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Date: 2003-06-23 08:39 am (UTC)Thanks for reading!