Okay, I was trying to write my next entry for the RP which I've been playing, and I got to rambling. What I ended up with was... a long, rather unusable narrative, as it added nothing to the story. It was funny, though. If you look hard enough, you can find where I was going to put this.
Here, I present it in stand-alone reading format, altered slightly for your reading pleasure. Comments are appreciated.
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"Dangit!" Keith sputtered, "I hate it when people come along and bust up my conversations... Maybe she's still hangin' around somewhere...?"
Suddenly, almost as if a little angel had come to sit on his shoulder, thoughts began popping into Keith's head. "You know, maybe it was for your own good?"
"Oh really? How so?"
"Well for one thing, you might have gotten that poor girl in trouble..."
"Wait, wait, wait... Who said anything about-"
"Don't play dumb, buster. I know what you were thinking."
":shady: Fine then. But how would that've been for MY own good?
"Well, think about it for a minute. She's got that truck, right? A WORKING truck. Anyone with that kind of resources most likely has someone with even bigger resources backing them."
"So, your point is...? Oh, wait... So, if I... And she... Then they....."
"Uh huh."
"Okay, But let's say none of that happened. Let's just say that-"
"Traitor, Keith."
"I don't follow..."
"She could be gone the next day, and so could your stuff."
"Oh... You're good at this, aren't you?"
"*Sigh...* It's what I'm here for."
Keith thought for a moment. This little dudette had everything all worked out. All loopholes secured, all corners fixed, all... But this conversation did seem a little one sided... That was it! The evil smirk appeared on his face at almost the same time as the equally evil character on his other shoulder. Two could play at this game...
The shady little character on Keith's shoulder immediately begin it's regiment of trash-talk. "Ya know, sista'? Dem prepositions of ya's seem a little wishy-washy ta me. Howda' ya know she even got's sumbuddy givin' her dat backin' ya was litteratin' a minute ago?"
The angel rolled her eyes. "Oh, gosh... not you." A sound of tiny grinding teeth was audible from Keith's other shoulder. "Look, you don't just produce a working pickup truck from thin air."
"Nah, of course' nawt. Ya gotta woik hard fo' anythin' in dis woild."
"...Unless the Almighty grants your request."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah... Whateva'. Ennyways, she could'a come across dat dere pickem'up truck by long, honest woik."
"...Something you wouldn't know anything about."
"Oh, yeah? Whadda you know? I do a lotta' hard woik." After this, the imp mumbled something about 'honesty' under it's breath.
"I suppose you have a truck then? "
":shady: Dat ain't da point. What I'm tryin'ta say is dat you cain't proove dat she's got sumbuddy who'll go afta' ennybuddy who causes her problims."
"But how about her, after she gets to know him, taking his stuff and leaving? I've seen it happen befo-"
"It couldn't be enny woise den wat you're capable'a pullin', miss prissy hips!"
"You wanna say that again, bat face!?"
The first swing was thrown, and the struggle ensued. As the clouds of dust settled from Keith's shoulders, both parties lay unconscious, yet intact and none the worse for wear. Keith just shook his head and walked on.