FicWad

Josh Rogan and Thompson Thompson had, in their first few weeks in Sydney, spent most of their Acting by Colour money on items "of great value, essential to proper spiritual development", in Thompson Thompson's words. Of course, these had been two recliners, a sound system, and a big-screen TV. Josh and Thompson had lived only on instant noodles for the next few months, and Thompson had nearly developed scurvy by the time Rogan had been cast as /Hamlet /in a local production, bringing fruit and vegetable money into the apartment.

At that precise moment, the recliners were occupied by Thompson and James "Jimmy the Bastard" Filmore, both gape-mouthed and wide-eyed. Simultaneously, they tilted their heads to the right, as if by changing their angle of vision they could make what they were seeing make sense. Simultaneously, they returned their heads to their normal position, in a symbolic surrender to weirdness.

The door opened with an audible thump. Josh Rogan, obviously, was in a foul mood. (It was Thursday, after all.)

"Elizabeth broke up with me," he announced, in a well, this was always going to happen voice.

"There is a /chicken /with /three legs /on the TV!" Thompson shouted.

Rogan stared for a moment, then shook his head. "That's /stupid/. And would you care to listen to my tale of heartbreak? You know, as my closest friends?"

"Shut up, Rogan!" Jimmy the Bastard replied. "Chickens are better than love!"

"Yeah, no argument here," Rogan muttered, throwing himself onto one of their hard plastic chairs.

Jimmy the Bastard and Thompson Thompson had no reaction, staring at the tripod chicken with looks of shock and inspiration, as if God Himself had spoken to them - and the Voice of God was a Cluck that would echo through the ages.

"I really thought this one was important, you know?" Rogan said to himself. "I won't say she was the one, 'cause I don't believe in that sort of thing and I don't think that she can alter the Matrix to her will, but I really wanted to spend time with her... And then I tell her my thoughts on free range eggs and suddenly she throws the stuffed toy I got her in my face and says she never wants to see me again. It's depressing."

"Sonnet 116," Thompson said, not looking away from the chicken.

"Yeah, yeah, another love poem. Why the hell is it important?"

"Read it to me."

Rogan sighed. "'Let me not to the marriage of true minds/admit impediments; love is not love...'" He paused, and then continued, rather more slowly. "'...which alters, when it alteration finds/or bends with the remover to remove...'"

Thompson nodded, though he was apparently nodding to the chicken. "All of life is a learning experience, Josh. There'll be better."

"Thanks, Thompson."

A pause.

"Also, that's digitally edited. The back leg's just the front leg rotated."

With that, Josh headed off to his room.

Jimmy the Bastard stared hard at the chicken's back leg, and shook his head. "Well, screw /that/," he said, and started to stand.

"Love is not love," Thompson said, censoriously, "which alters when it alteration finds."

Another pause.

Jimmy the Bastard settled back into his seat, and resumed his locked gaze at the TV.