Spinning 'Round

NOTES: Most of the fantasy authors I've interviewed have told me that story ideas are everywhere around us and you know what? I firmly believe that. I don't own Questa, Genard and Emil. I never have. I wish I did. Not making money. Maybe someday. Yes, it's short. I don't have time to be long-winded. I'm writing it after spending the day in a very hung-over state. My muses go through everything I do. Beware of confusion and enjoy!


Two thieves and assassin are standing on the front step of the safehouse of the Unified Guild. They are just home from a night on the town, and all of them are more intoxicated than they've ever been in their lives.

"For de love of crap, Questa, would you give me dose b'fore you drop dem under de stairs an' den what would we do?"

"Sleep in de trees in de back yard?"

"You stay out of dis, Emil!"

"What? What'd I say? It's not like no one ever did it b'fore!"

"Genard, I can get it, jus' hold yer horses! I can' see prop...proper...straight."

A sigh. "Okay fine, jus' hurry up would ya? I need to pee!"

"Oh dere ya go, dat's jus' great...announce it to de whole damned city why don'cha, G?"

"I told you to stay out of dis, Emil!"

"Well I don' wan'. An' we shoulda cut you off when de waitress suggested it. But no...we had to be nice an' tell her you were fine. You ain' fine!"

"I am too fine! Questa hurry de heck up would ya?"

"Genard if you don' shut up you're gon' wake up de whole house an' not only will Tante Mattie be pissed off at us, but Theo an' Gris will prob'ly force us to drink eight gallons of water each...an' my bladder can' take dat kinda 'buse right now!"

"Well neither can mine but you're de one who won' open de damned door!"

"Not dat I won'...I can'. My eyes won' focus. Here. You do it if you t'ink you can do it quicker dan me, Mr. Smarty-Pants!"

"Okay fine!" The door is opened in a matter of seconds. "Dere! See? Dat wasn' so hard! I don' know why you couldn' do it. But I guess it's b'cause you ain' a t'ief..."

"Ooh dat's it! Dat's de last time I go out drinkin' wit you Genard Alouette! If you're gon' do nothin' but insult me when we're drunk I don' wan' drink wit' you no more...hey...where'd Emil go?"

"Dammit! He snuck off to de bathroom when we were fightin'! Dat brat!"

"Genard, shhhhh!"

"Don' you tell me to 'shhhhh!', Questa Devereaux! I'm not listenin' to you an' he's a brat for sneakin' off like dat!" Emil comes back. "Emil you're a brat!"

"I might be a brat, but at least one of us has an empty bladder..."

"Oh shut up an' get out of my way!"

"How can he walk straight? I can' walk straight. Can you?"

"Non. He prob'ly can' either, it's jus' determination."

"Dat's gotta be it. Man I gotta sit down or somethin'...hey de floor looks good." Emil lays down on the floor in the living room. Questa stares at him like he has three heads.

"What are you doin'?"

"What de heck does it look like I'm doin'? I can' climb dat staircase, I'll fall an' kill myself. So I'm gon' sleep here."

"Right dere, on de floor?"

"Oui. Wan' join me?"

"Uhm..."

Genard rejoins them. "Bathroom's all yours, Q. An' I'll join ya, Emil. Dose stairs look evil. Dey might try to shift or somethin' so we fall."

"Can dey do dat?"

"Dey can in de movies."

"True."

"Oh for cryin' out loud...you two are crazy! You don' even have a blanket!"

"Now who's makin' too much noise?"

"Shut up. If we're gon' sleep down here, de least we need is a blanket." Questa gets a blanket out of the closet and joins them on the floor.

"We have to share one blanket? But dere's three of us! It's not big enough! We ain' little kids!"

"If you want to get another blanket, Emil, go ahead. I've done my share."

"Questa you're a jerk did you know dat?"

"I'm an assassin. I'm s'posed to be a jerk."

"Well I want 'nother blanket, but I don' know if I can get up wit'out keelin' over..."

"Tough luck den."

"I'll get one. Either of you want a pillow?"

"Ooh now someone's t'inkin'!"

"I'll take dat as a yes." Genard gets up, gets another blanket and three spare pillows out of the closet, returns. "Here."

Finally the three of them are settled on the floor.

"Goddammit!"

"What now, Emil?"

"I gotta pee 'gain!"

"So get up an' go den!"

"I can'!"

"Why not?"

"B'cause I'll throw up if I move..."

"If you t'row up on our bed I'll kill you, Lapin."

"I feel like I'm on a ride at de carnival. I hate carnival rides..."

"Jus' don' t'ink 'bout it, Emil. You'll be fine."

"I dunno...but I still gotta pee..."

"So go pee!"

"But de room's spinnin'! I can' get up!"

"Now dat you mention it...de room is spinnin'...why does it do dat?"

"Who knows but if I get one of my guns an' shoot it do you t'ink it'll stop?"

"No! No guns! Guns are bad! Especially right now!"

"Okay okay! Sheesh! Gimme a break!"

"Could we maybe shut up an' go to sleep? De others'll be up in four hours..."

"I was perfectly happy tryin' to be quiet but Emil started whinin' 'bout needin' to pee an'..."

"I know, Questa. I was here. Remember?"

"We should get someone to remind us to never do dis 'gain. At least not until de next time. We're gon' be hurtin' when we wake up..."

"Ain' dat de truth. But we really should get some sleep. At least try to."

"Okay." Peace falls quickly over the living room, only to be broken less than five minutes later.

"I still need to pee..."


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