hackthis_archive | No, there is no explanation.

I told

edigo I would write her drunken, grass skirt!fic.

circe_tigana said something about Dom standing on his hands. Please keep in mind that this is all dialogue for a good reason: I wrote it in like 20 minutes.

LOTRips
DM & BB in...
Only the Slightest Bit Insane

“’ello?”

“You didn’t ring me tonight."

“I didn’t what?”

“’s all right though, I won’t hold it against you when I’m sober and did I mention I’ve made you a pressie?”

“You what?”

"'s a kilt is what it is!"

"Dom?"

"Miss me yet, Bills?"

"Dom, it's -- it's three in the fucking morning."

"Not in Honolulu, it's not."

"But I'm not in Honolulu, you daft --"

"I've made you a kilt, too!"

"You're – you, yes, I heard that. Dom, what are you on?"

"Right now, I'm on 'Rock the Casbah' but I'm off to shag the queen. How do you fancy the Pistols, Bill?'

"Dom, I'm ringing off."

"No! No, no wait, look, I'm making your kilt right now!"

"Right, and I've got silk coming out my arse, that's nice, can I go to sleep now?'

"No! No, I just wanted, you know, I was thinking about you…"

"While you were pissed?"

"No, while I was making your grass kilt."

"While you were what?"

"Your kilt, I'm making you a grass kilt."

"Did I already ask you what you're on, because, really, what are you on?"

"Sadly, not you, but I hope to rectify that situation in about three days."

“And that’ll be on this grass kilt your making then?”

“Absolutely. It might itch a bit, but that’s all right. You can wear pants underneath, I won’t tell.”

“Scots don’t wear anything underneath their kilts, Dom, you know that.”

“’course I do, but I thought with the grass and all, I wouldn’t want you to itch.”

“Your consideration amazes me.”

“I know, I’m brilliant, you can thank me later.”

“Right, so this grass kilt -- you’ve been smoking grass is that what this is all about?”

“No, that’s not it at all, I just thought – I was walking about, you know, on my hands –“

“As you are often wont to do.”

“Right, and you know, I thought about you in a skirt.”

“Dom, are you listening to yourself at all, because I am, and grass kilts and walking on your hands -– don’t you have a job now?”

“Well, yeah, but I can’t be shooting all the time.”

“Not unless J.J. has you shot first.”

“Is this your way of saying you don’t want your present?”

“No, that’s not what I said at all.”

“Well, then –“

“Well then what?”

“Will you wear your skirt for me when I get home?”

“Is this some feminisation bit?”

“Is this some what what?”

“Nothing, nothing, look, it’s late, or early, whatever it is, I need to sleep. Can I ring off now?”

“Yeah, yes, I just – I wanted you to know I’m thinking about you.”

“I’m thinking about you too.”

“Just probably not in a grass skirt.”

“No, but bring back one for yourself as well and we can change that.”

“You cheeky bugger.”

“I try.”

“I know.”

“Can I go to sleep now then?”

“I know how you coffin dodgers get, so if you must, you must.”

“I’ll remember that OAP bit when you get home you know.”

“I hope so. Good night, Bills.”

“Night, Dom.”

-end’