Categories > Original > Humor > Five Minute Soap Dish
Week 15
"You actually cried?" Nick asked, a malevolent smile across his face.
"Damn, I've never seen you cry," Kelly added, cradling her coffee, "Even when we watched Beaches all you could manage was a grunt of disappointment."
"All those kids in high school who called me a fag for doing theatre-well I think it's clear who's getting all the vagina now. Fag Boy is!" Steve said, a bit too loudly, attracting the notice of others in the cafeteria. But it was before nine, so not many people were awake enough to notice.
"Fag boy, one of the more pathetic x-men in my opinion," Nick added to no one in particular, "So what happened next?"
"Well, the tears were enough. The silly cow-"
"You should really learn her name before you next speak to her," Kelly said, sipping her coffee.
"Whatever her name was, she believed me. Every single word. Believed me over her close, some may say, best friend."
The table was filled with laughter of all three.
"You mean, you've managed to break up a long standing friendship, just so you could get the leg over," Nick said, extending a hand to Steve, "Shake my hand, boy. You deserve a congratulations. The master bull shitter is amongst us."
"And mine," Kelly added, extending a hand before quickly retracting it, "Nick, should we really be expressing joy at this?"
"Meh," Nick said simply, "They're not us or anyone we know, or care about. So, I say take happiness where you can get it."
"Good enough for me," Kelly said, extending her hand again, as Steve shook both hands vigorously, "So Steve, did you hit the home run?"
"Not this time," Steve admitted, eliciting groans from the other two, "But I made a big headway for the next innings."
"How so?"
"She, she pushed me away, when I tried to kiss her, but with a careful play from me, she told me that I needed to prove that my feelings were honest."
"Which they aren't?" Kelly asked.
"Not in the slightest," Steve said, "So I promised her something that would involve all of us."
"What? It better not be an orgy," Kelly said, worried.
"God, No. No, no, no, not with Nick around," Steve answered.
"Oh, what are you complaining about. All I'd do would be commentate on the action," Nick answered, "But what are we doing to help you."
"Well, I promised her I'd cook some succulent food for her and a friend at a dinner party. And all my friends would be there," Steve said, wide eyed, smiling.
There was a pause, before both Nick and Kelly started to laugh to the point that tears came from their eyes. Steve was clearly getting angry at this.
"If you just listen, I've got an idea-"
"Oh don't worry Steve, we'll be there," Nick said, "In fact, I'll bring the stomach pump."
"No, don't bother," Kelly said, "I've got a boyfriend I need to get rid of somehow."
"I'm not that bad a cook," Steve mumbled.
"Yeah, you are," Nick responded.
"You can't cook anything beyond dried pasta," Kelly said, "And even then you can't cook it properly."
"Or at all," Nick added, "Though if you like crunchy pasta, then feel free to like crunchy pasta."
"Shut!" Steve shouted, bringing the other two to silence, "I'm well aware of my failings in the kitchen. Which is why I planned to get outside assistance."
"Caterers? Anyone with half a brain knows the difference between catered food and home made," Nick said, "Though taking into account your previous dating history, maybe she won't."
"I wasn't going to use caterers. Someone cheaper I have in mind."
"Who?" Nick asked.
Kelly didn't ask. She smiled, because she already knew and looked directly into Nick's eyes. Steve soon joined her, so both were staring right at Nick, and grinning like a Cheshire. Slowly it dawned on Nick.
"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no and fuck you in the arse with a razor dildo for even considering the idea."
"Come on! I thought we were friends," Steve said pleading.
"Yes, friends. I'm your friend, not your slave. If you want someone to cook for you, get a Chinese slave illegally imported here. She'll do the job twice as well, and be willing and able," Nick argued, "I'm sure Kelly could name some names."
"Fuck you and your racist stereotypes," Kelly said.
"If I had a Chinese slave girl, she could provide other services that would make the dinner party's purpose redundant," Steve said calmly, "This is what friends do, help each other out."
"How the hell have you helped me out...ever? You have sex at my apartment, I hang out with you, and now you want me to cook for you. What have I ever gotten out of our friendship."
Nick got up to leave, "So I repeat. My answer is no. Fuck you Steve. Fuck you Kelly. And especially doubly fuck you Steve."
When Nick had left the cafeteria Steve said, "I'll make him come around."
"No doubt," Kelly said, "But he won't like you because of it."
"He'll get over it. Anyway, set your date. A week from Friday, there's a dinner party at Nick's place."
"You're using his flat as well!"
"Well of course," Steve said, "I can't expect Nick to cook food at my flat. I mean, I don't even know if I have an oven. There's a giant hunk of rust in my kitchen that may have once been an oven, but I can't be sure."
Kelly shook her head knowingly, "One of these days you're going to push someone too far, Steve my dear."
"Probably," Steve said, "But it won't be Nick. I was thinking it might be you."
"You actually cried?" Nick asked, a malevolent smile across his face.
"Damn, I've never seen you cry," Kelly added, cradling her coffee, "Even when we watched Beaches all you could manage was a grunt of disappointment."
"All those kids in high school who called me a fag for doing theatre-well I think it's clear who's getting all the vagina now. Fag Boy is!" Steve said, a bit too loudly, attracting the notice of others in the cafeteria. But it was before nine, so not many people were awake enough to notice.
"Fag boy, one of the more pathetic x-men in my opinion," Nick added to no one in particular, "So what happened next?"
"Well, the tears were enough. The silly cow-"
"You should really learn her name before you next speak to her," Kelly said, sipping her coffee.
"Whatever her name was, she believed me. Every single word. Believed me over her close, some may say, best friend."
The table was filled with laughter of all three.
"You mean, you've managed to break up a long standing friendship, just so you could get the leg over," Nick said, extending a hand to Steve, "Shake my hand, boy. You deserve a congratulations. The master bull shitter is amongst us."
"And mine," Kelly added, extending a hand before quickly retracting it, "Nick, should we really be expressing joy at this?"
"Meh," Nick said simply, "They're not us or anyone we know, or care about. So, I say take happiness where you can get it."
"Good enough for me," Kelly said, extending her hand again, as Steve shook both hands vigorously, "So Steve, did you hit the home run?"
"Not this time," Steve admitted, eliciting groans from the other two, "But I made a big headway for the next innings."
"How so?"
"She, she pushed me away, when I tried to kiss her, but with a careful play from me, she told me that I needed to prove that my feelings were honest."
"Which they aren't?" Kelly asked.
"Not in the slightest," Steve said, "So I promised her something that would involve all of us."
"What? It better not be an orgy," Kelly said, worried.
"God, No. No, no, no, not with Nick around," Steve answered.
"Oh, what are you complaining about. All I'd do would be commentate on the action," Nick answered, "But what are we doing to help you."
"Well, I promised her I'd cook some succulent food for her and a friend at a dinner party. And all my friends would be there," Steve said, wide eyed, smiling.
There was a pause, before both Nick and Kelly started to laugh to the point that tears came from their eyes. Steve was clearly getting angry at this.
"If you just listen, I've got an idea-"
"Oh don't worry Steve, we'll be there," Nick said, "In fact, I'll bring the stomach pump."
"No, don't bother," Kelly said, "I've got a boyfriend I need to get rid of somehow."
"I'm not that bad a cook," Steve mumbled.
"Yeah, you are," Nick responded.
"You can't cook anything beyond dried pasta," Kelly said, "And even then you can't cook it properly."
"Or at all," Nick added, "Though if you like crunchy pasta, then feel free to like crunchy pasta."
"Shut!" Steve shouted, bringing the other two to silence, "I'm well aware of my failings in the kitchen. Which is why I planned to get outside assistance."
"Caterers? Anyone with half a brain knows the difference between catered food and home made," Nick said, "Though taking into account your previous dating history, maybe she won't."
"I wasn't going to use caterers. Someone cheaper I have in mind."
"Who?" Nick asked.
Kelly didn't ask. She smiled, because she already knew and looked directly into Nick's eyes. Steve soon joined her, so both were staring right at Nick, and grinning like a Cheshire. Slowly it dawned on Nick.
"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no and fuck you in the arse with a razor dildo for even considering the idea."
"Come on! I thought we were friends," Steve said pleading.
"Yes, friends. I'm your friend, not your slave. If you want someone to cook for you, get a Chinese slave illegally imported here. She'll do the job twice as well, and be willing and able," Nick argued, "I'm sure Kelly could name some names."
"Fuck you and your racist stereotypes," Kelly said.
"If I had a Chinese slave girl, she could provide other services that would make the dinner party's purpose redundant," Steve said calmly, "This is what friends do, help each other out."
"How the hell have you helped me out...ever? You have sex at my apartment, I hang out with you, and now you want me to cook for you. What have I ever gotten out of our friendship."
Nick got up to leave, "So I repeat. My answer is no. Fuck you Steve. Fuck you Kelly. And especially doubly fuck you Steve."
When Nick had left the cafeteria Steve said, "I'll make him come around."
"No doubt," Kelly said, "But he won't like you because of it."
"He'll get over it. Anyway, set your date. A week from Friday, there's a dinner party at Nick's place."
"You're using his flat as well!"
"Well of course," Steve said, "I can't expect Nick to cook food at my flat. I mean, I don't even know if I have an oven. There's a giant hunk of rust in my kitchen that may have once been an oven, but I can't be sure."
Kelly shook her head knowingly, "One of these days you're going to push someone too far, Steve my dear."
"Probably," Steve said, "But it won't be Nick. I was thinking it might be you."
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