Disclaimer: the following is a result of tired insanity and a misused thesaurus. Nobody is gonna like it but what the hey. Give it a shot and please tell me what u think even if its just to say “u suck” I don’t care.
~ Kamel-chan ~
The alabaster basin sat stagnant on the table. It was filled to the brim with crusty variegated rings. To the inquisitive moppet, braid in hand, it was a sapless tender yearning for its nourishment. Wetting his lips and curling his fingers, the boy flashed from the bowl to a jug of bright crimson liquid.
To pour or not to pour?
The tantalizing gleam of the savory red liquid rippled on the table. The flickers of pink aggravated the shavelings curious cobalt eyes. He swatted at the light splashes with his clumsy eyelids. His eyes broadened with each blink as the sensation to increase havoc drubbed in his chest.
A box sat next to the bowl dominating the tabletop. There it towered, subjugating its breakfast comrades with its versicolored label and its gelastic bird mascot.
The boy struggled in his seat and kicked his feet as he choked down a chuckle. He was a young adult of about fifteen but his heart still beat along his childhood path. As he writhed he twisted the cross charm hanging ‘round his neck and whipped the sweat streaks from his hardened palms against his catholic ebony togs. To top off his demeanor the charismatic musings rumbling in his mind decorated his face with a sneaky smirk
That’s a silly question.
There is a thin glass plate between the realm of insanity and the cloud of reality. Hanging in the fog is Duo. At this moment his tiptoes have now cracked through the barrier.
Duo reached for the liquid, his hands shaking with pleasure. Attempting to unscrew the seal of the beverage, the cap fell to the floor with an echoing plink. He paid no attention to its disturbance or the audience gathering in the doorway. There, Quatre stood stark and worried as his co-pilot continued…
The Gatorade retreated is container with a smooth gentle flow. It splished ‘round the sugar dusted rings and meandered through the cracks in the food till it soaked the shell of the fruity cereal. And then there was the spoon.
Duo spoke to the inanimate metal object lightly propped on the napkin next to the bowl. It refused to react and took its food shoveling punishment like a…um…spoon. It labored through the loops and carried its edible burden into its tongue and tooth prison. The tad hummed with content over his hunger-conquering victory…
…oh, buddy…
…and passed out with a dense thud as his bangs cushioned his head on the table.
Quatre observed the state of his colleague from his doorway/spy hole and ran to get Heero.
“Quatre you look like you’ve seen Trowa hyper. What’s going on?” Heero retorted as the pale panting boy stormed into the hanger.
“I cannot accurately explain what just happened, but to me it looked like Duo was having a Shakespearian word fight with his breakfast and now he’s passed out on the table!” Quatre spat as his voice continually cracked.
“Hnn. Sounds like he’s been eating Froot Loops and Gatorade again. Get a bucket of water and a big hair clip. Don’t worry we’ll fix him up.” Calm and cool the pilot uncharacteristically comforted.
Heero pinned Duo’s braid on top of his scalp as Quatre dumped the bucket full down Duo’s pants.
Duo convulsed a little, then blinking, scowled at Heero.
“Duo, I told you not to eat Froot Loops and Gatorade at the same time. Your blood sugar just can’t handle it.”
Duo tried standing up on his own and fell back to the ground as he stammered out “That’s Hell Loops and Devil-ade to you buster!”
Well now wasn’t that…hummm…well, I’ll leave that up to you to judge. Please R+R and have a Shakespearean word fight with your own breakfast!
