Post by prozac on Apr 22, 2007 19:30:50 GMT -5
OOC: I didn't know if I would have time to RP so I threw together this crappy funny thing...
Scene opens with Prozac and Ritalin sitting in Prozac’s apartment in the living room the two are just sitting on the couch talking. Prozac is wearing a grey long sleeve shirt and blue jeans, Ritalin is wearing an all pink jump suit and he doesn’t know why…black Nikes with an all black Yankee fitted hat. The two have been sitting there for a couple of hours just hanging around not doing much with there lives.
Prozac:
So yeah I’m bored…what do you want to do?
Ritalin:
What do you want to do?
Prozac:
I'm hungry…I’m going to get something to eat.
Prozac gets up and walks to the kitchen he walks towards the fridge and opens it and realizes that it is completely empty and a look of fear enters his face as he rushes over to the cabinets and opens them…and they are all empty. A look of pure terror and despair crosses his face as he drops to his knees and looses a cry of pure anguish
Prozac:
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Ritalin glances back from the living room with a slight frown on his face. He ponders the bone-chilling wail that he just heard from the kitchen and slowly processes the possible reasons for such a disconcerting reaction from his friend. A look of realization and horror crosses his face as he realizes the imminent disaster. He launches himself off of the couch and runs to the kitchen with a whisper of fear leaving his lips.
Ritalin:
No…..please…not the food….anything but the food….NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
Prozac is on his knees in the kitchen, the cupboards and the refrigerator doors open all around him. Ritalin looks at the devastation that is an empty kitchen and speaks softly with tears in his eyes
Prozac:
Bert…you know what we must do. It’ll be difficult, dangerous even, but for the sake of our way of life, we must….go shopping.
A silence descends on the kitchen as the two Meds give a quiet moment in respect for the lost sustenance that once resided in their kitchen. Ritalin looks up forlornly at Prozac and poses a very good question.
Ritalin:
Where can we go grocery shopping? They won’t allow us in Shoprite, we tp’ed Price Chopper, and all of the convenient stores have our picture and call the cops as soon as we show our faces in the neighborhood.
Prozac:
What about Hannafords? We haven’t done anything to them recently, have we?
Ritalin looks away whistling innocently. Prozac narrows his eyes at him, frowning.
Prozac:
The news yesterday…they said there was a fire...You son of a bitch!
Scene ends with Prozac chasing Ritalin out the house.
Prozac:
So yeah I’m bored…what do you want to do?
Ritalin:
What do you want to do?
Prozac:
I'm hungry…I’m going to get something to eat.
Prozac gets up and walks to the kitchen he walks towards the fridge and opens it and realizes that it is completely empty and a look of fear enters his face as he rushes over to the cabinets and opens them…and they are all empty. A look of pure terror and despair crosses his face as he drops to his knees and looses a cry of pure anguish
Prozac:
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Ritalin glances back from the living room with a slight frown on his face. He ponders the bone-chilling wail that he just heard from the kitchen and slowly processes the possible reasons for such a disconcerting reaction from his friend. A look of realization and horror crosses his face as he realizes the imminent disaster. He launches himself off of the couch and runs to the kitchen with a whisper of fear leaving his lips.
Ritalin:
No…..please…not the food….anything but the food….NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
Prozac is on his knees in the kitchen, the cupboards and the refrigerator doors open all around him. Ritalin looks at the devastation that is an empty kitchen and speaks softly with tears in his eyes
Prozac:
Bert…you know what we must do. It’ll be difficult, dangerous even, but for the sake of our way of life, we must….go shopping.
A silence descends on the kitchen as the two Meds give a quiet moment in respect for the lost sustenance that once resided in their kitchen. Ritalin looks up forlornly at Prozac and poses a very good question.
Ritalin:
Where can we go grocery shopping? They won’t allow us in Shoprite, we tp’ed Price Chopper, and all of the convenient stores have our picture and call the cops as soon as we show our faces in the neighborhood.
Prozac:
What about Hannafords? We haven’t done anything to them recently, have we?
Ritalin looks away whistling innocently. Prozac narrows his eyes at him, frowning.
Prozac:
The news yesterday…they said there was a fire...You son of a bitch!
Scene ends with Prozac chasing Ritalin out the house.