xp_logs | Of Lice and Femme

Remy was enjoying the sort of zen moment that comes with post-coitus, a good piss or the first morning cigarette. It was probably a shame that he got interrupted.

Monet slammed out of the door, tossed her scarf over her neck and asked. "So have you organised the limos?"

"Chere?" Remy raised an eyebrow at the appearance of the young woman.

"Limos. The limos. You’re not very keen, you know?" she said, brightly. Remy cast about, trying to remember if he was supposed to have stolen a limo for someone and what this girl had to do with it.

Monet huffed at his bemused expression. 'Listen, you. The clubbing? Going dancing? You were the one organising that, right?

"Remy might be. What dat matter t' a femme like you?"

"Oh, christ!" She rolled her eyes, and spoke in the slow tones reserved for the extremely young and terminally stupid. "I am going to the club with you. There will be limos. Cabs ruin my complexion." Remy was rapidly acquiring a hunted look, trying to follow her scattershot speech.

"Er. Limos," he repeated carefully. "Did Remy know that cabs gave you, uh..." he floundered to a halt, aware that suggesting zits to the lady might not be the brightest move he could make. She was looking at him funny, too.

"How should I know?" she asked icily. "It's not my job to take care of these things. If you're going to organise something you should think about the details." She reached over and, at arms reach, stole his cigarette and took a long, comfortable drag.

Remy shook his head, completely off his game. Her demeanor was nothing like he was used to and he hated being the one off balance. "'Bout dose limos, chere? How you ‘spect Remy t' pay for dem?"

"I'm very rich. That means that details are always someone else's problem." She cocked her head to one side. "They have a shampoo, you know. It works very well."

Remy, by this stage, was wondering if he'd actually woken up at all. There was less nudity that usual though. "Shampoo for money?" he asked somewhat helplessly.

Monet was inspecting his hairline with an expression of disgusted curiosity. "You're just being stupid now," she said. "For lice."

"Lice? Remy thought you just need limos!" His voice was taking on a decidedly harassed tone. "What you need de lice for?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Her voice was sharp and focused. "Look, I will order the limos. How many people and what time?" The 'you freak' at the end of that was not particularly silent.

"Uh... twelve. Maybe twelve? Dat right?" Remy said, backing away a bit. He had a couple of inches on the girl, but her random madness worried him. "Just going t' take cabs. Not wan' t' tip off de staff."

"The driveway will be a bitch," Monet informed him. "But they will pick us up outside the gates. They'll bring us back, too. Six to a car would work out fine." She completely and cheerfully ignored his objections. "Also, I'm not sharing a limo with you unless you're lice free."

"Remy thought you just said you need lice?" he said, totally confused. "You want de lice in de other limos?"

"I sure as shit don't want them in mine," Monet said. "It's just gross and I can't believe you live like that." She finished the cigarette and tossed it aside. "Don't you itch?"

"Dat make no sense?" Remy sputtered. "Why you ask Remy t' find de lice if you don' want dem? 'specially in de limos? You making some joke on de students?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? Are you one of those crazy people?" Evidently that was worse than lice, as she backed away further. "Who wants to find lice?"

"Remy thought you wanted t' find lice?" Remy looked horrified. "Dat not your power, chere? You don' eat dem, do you?"

They exchanged horrified looks, both shifting further away from each other.

"Eat lice? Who does that? What do you think I am?"

"I don't know, chere! Why you want dem?" Remy stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trench-coat. "Don' know if Remy want t' know femme dat eats bugs."

"Do you know someone who eats bugs? Really? Ew!" Monet was backed up against the wall. "How about you don't tell me about it and I go organise the limos. Outside the gate at twelve."

"Uh, oui?" Remy said hopefully. She arched an eyebrow at him, and he grinned sickly. "Maybe Remy go change," he said and fled from the porch.

Current Mood: chipper
Current Music: The Whitlams

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

xp_daytripper

*gigglesnorts* You know, I read this at work initially and had to clap a hand over my mouth to stop the very loud laughing. This is so... well, it's so the characters, but it's also you two. And now I can see M and Remy walking into a pub together and being generally snarky and surreal...

And there's going to have to be some log adjusting, damn it...