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This feisty little snippet that insisted on being typed.
What was I thinking, giving vent to a snippet that included Chris Kirkpatrick *and* Joe Dick? Talk about the Prozac twins. Every time I try to think out the rest of the story, I end up eating sweets and harassing people with pop culture theory. It's scary, yo.
And those two weren't even supposed to be in the story, which is nominally about JC and Billy, the pretty music boys.
The Detachable Id is getting out of control. I'm going to have to call out the Detachable Pyschiatrist soon.
Anyway, here it is. And I'm still on hiatus!
Technically.
~
WARNING!!!! Yellow alert! This snippet contains spoilers for the film Hard Core Logo, which you should see untainted by fan babbling.
After Life
Part One, d or something
by salmonellagalabilly
Punk singer Joe Dick was a legend. The one true punk, said some. A man who never sold out, said others. Chris had always hoped to meet him someday, and had been both awestricken and broken-hearted when he’d heard about the last concert Hard Core Logo played in Edmonton.
Finally he stood face to face with a man he’d admired for most of his life, and all he could do was shriek at the top of his lungs.
Joe didn’t seem impressed. His mouth, traced red with blood dripping from his forehead, pursed in annoyance and he covered his ears with his bloody hands. The steel blue of his eyes was piercing, but not as piercing as Chris’ screams.
Billy came running into the living room waving a steak knife. He glanced swiftly at his ghoulish ex-bandmate, then back at Chris, whose scream finally faded. Chris gaped when Billy dropped the knife and shrugged his shoulders as if bewildered at Chris’ hysterics.
“Fuck, Kirkpatrick, what are you screaming about?”, asked Billy, big blue eyes blinking innocently. Chris thought he must have learned that move from JC.
“Well, let’s see,” said Chris, seriously aggravated. “Could it be the freakin’ *dead* punk over there?!” He pointed vaguely in Joe’s direction, refusing to look.
Billy’s eyes widened, and he glanced back and forth from Chris to Joe a few times. “You can see him?”
“Mohawked mother with a hole in his fish-white forehead? Yes, that’d be the one.”
Joe started laughing, Billy gasped a little, and Chris tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for an answer.
“What the fuck kind of mohawk is that?”, asked Joe.
~
See how they are?
Night, wonderful lj lovelies.
What was I thinking, giving vent to a snippet that included Chris Kirkpatrick *and* Joe Dick? Talk about the Prozac twins. Every time I try to think out the rest of the story, I end up eating sweets and harassing people with pop culture theory. It's scary, yo.
And those two weren't even supposed to be in the story, which is nominally about JC and Billy, the pretty music boys.
The Detachable Id is getting out of control. I'm going to have to call out the Detachable Pyschiatrist soon.
Anyway, here it is. And I'm still on hiatus!
Technically.
~
WARNING!!!! Yellow alert! This snippet contains spoilers for the film Hard Core Logo, which you should see untainted by fan babbling.
After Life
Part One, d or something
by salmonellagalabilly
Punk singer Joe Dick was a legend. The one true punk, said some. A man who never sold out, said others. Chris had always hoped to meet him someday, and had been both awestricken and broken-hearted when he’d heard about the last concert Hard Core Logo played in Edmonton.
Finally he stood face to face with a man he’d admired for most of his life, and all he could do was shriek at the top of his lungs.
Joe didn’t seem impressed. His mouth, traced red with blood dripping from his forehead, pursed in annoyance and he covered his ears with his bloody hands. The steel blue of his eyes was piercing, but not as piercing as Chris’ screams.
Billy came running into the living room waving a steak knife. He glanced swiftly at his ghoulish ex-bandmate, then back at Chris, whose scream finally faded. Chris gaped when Billy dropped the knife and shrugged his shoulders as if bewildered at Chris’ hysterics.
“Fuck, Kirkpatrick, what are you screaming about?”, asked Billy, big blue eyes blinking innocently. Chris thought he must have learned that move from JC.
“Well, let’s see,” said Chris, seriously aggravated. “Could it be the freakin’ *dead* punk over there?!” He pointed vaguely in Joe’s direction, refusing to look.
Billy’s eyes widened, and he glanced back and forth from Chris to Joe a few times. “You can see him?”
“Mohawked mother with a hole in his fish-white forehead? Yes, that’d be the one.”
Joe started laughing, Billy gasped a little, and Chris tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for an answer.
“What the fuck kind of mohawk is that?”, asked Joe.
~
See how they are?
Night, wonderful lj lovelies.
