Matt & Wade | Saturday Evening (backdated)

[x-deadpool.livejournal.com]

Matt and Wade set out on their grand adventure to discover All The Onion Rings Ever and to test them to see which ones Matt and Kyle might actually be able to eat.


Running down the stairs from his room, Matt clutched his cane in one hand, but wasn't actually being used. It was more of a prop at the moment. "I'm here!" he announced, knowing that Wade was since he could hear the other man's heartbeat. "Fooooood!"

"Whoa there, skippy," Wade said, laughing a little. "I didn't mean for you to almost kill yourself on the stairs, geez. Also, on the topic of onion rings, I have decided this is going to be the Epic Onion Ring Taste Testing of 2011. It will be awesome. It's also going to involve a ridiculous number of stops at various fast food establishments and possibly a sampling of all the onion rings they sell in the frozen section of the grocery store."

"I wasn't going to kill myself," Matt assured Wade, holding his cane properly in front of him now. "And I support this. We can rule out any that smell nasty from the get go. That'll save time."

"Awesome. Also, I've been in touch with Ramsey. He's going to help us taste test later. His tastes aren't as refined as yours, though, so he's just showing up for the regular eating." Wade headed for the door, grinning. "C'mon, c'mon. Let's get this party started - also, we're going to need to get a ridiculous amount of gum or breath mints or something. Do those make you sneeze or want to die or anything?"

"Just altoids. Those things are disgusting," Matt made a face as he followed Wade, "Regular stuff is okay though, if its in small amounts. And nothing bubble gum or too fake. That just tastes like chemical," he was excited for this. Plus, new guy.

"Awesome, cause Altoids make me sneeze. I avoid them like the plague. Tic-Tacs are pretty sweet, though. Or Doublemint gum. We should get that. Cause that's delicious," Wade said, opening the door and holding it wide for Matt before heading toward the garage. "The whole downstairs is going to smell like onions. Hopefully only the good onions, though. If you don't like the way they smell when they hand them over, just tell me and I'll chuck them in the garbage so we can move on to the next stop."

"Ugh, that sounds awful," Matt liked onion rings sometimes, but the smell of too many onions was gross. "I mean, too many onions is nasty. I agree with Kyle. Sometimes, they're okay. If they're in ring form. But otherwise, like at a the supermarket raw onions are kinda gross."

"Have you ever heard about those people who eat them like apples?" Wade's grin was evident in his voice. "I mean, wow. I've eaten some pretty weird stuff in my time, but I think I draw the line at biting into an onion like that. Which is kind of funny, all things considered."

"That is one of the most disgusting things ever," Matt was thinking that maybe he should not have suggested onion rings now. "So...I'm thinking french fries are good."

Wade's grin just got bigger. "Wimping out on my, skippy?"

"Maybe," Matt answered, unapologetic. "We already know that Kyle isn't a fan of onions too..."

Wade laughed a little. "Alright, let's see how the fast food places measure up. If we find something that works for you, we'll go with that and won't touch the frozen ones."

"Sounds good," Matt agreed. Fast food tended to not resemble real food, which sometimes made it better. "I still hate those jalapeno popper things you like though. None of those."

"None of those," Wade agreed, laughing a little. They might have to relocate the actual cooking of the onion rings to Ramsey's apartment and then come back to Matt with the results, but he didn't think Doug would have much of a problem with that. Especially if they brought him something extra special and delicious. It was just a matter of figuring out what might be delicious enough to appease a man whose kitchen had been overtaken by an enthusiastic mercenary and a ridiculous number of bags containing frozen onion rings.

Opening the car window, Matt stuck his head out, "So, when are you going to teach me to drive?" he asked. The wind whipped his hair and made everything flash in his mind, little blurred flashed of things. Mostly of things. "I'm 16. I gotta learn."

"When I'm confident you can follow directions closely enough not to kill either of us by accidentally running into a street lamp or something," Wade said, grinning a little.

"Well, there's no way I'll be able to do that without practicing!" Matt pointed out, bringing his head inside the car again, "I won't run into anything. Really." He hoped.

"Slow your roll there, kid, slow your roll," Wade said, passably imitating the old black man who'd taught him how to drive when he was sixteen. Not that Matt would get the reference, of course. "We'll see how things go - I think I mentioned maybe getting one of those driver's ed cars with the extra set of brakes on the passenger side. We'll need to acquire one of those first."

The voice Wade did was funny, mostly because Matt could remember a guy in the old neighborhood who had spoken with that same sort of slow cadence, even if he hadn't heard him say those exact words. "Yeah yeah, well..." he shrugged, "whatever." Right. First rule of being a foster kid, don't show excitement about stuff you wanted because if you did, it was unlikely to ever happen. Just like driving.

"Don't sweat it," Wade said, thumbs drumming a slow rhythm on the steering wheel. "We'll get it figured out."