Phonecall 19

"Lacey, there is a cockroach on one of your bags."
"Why yes. Yes there is."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm gonna kill it. Gimme your shoe."
"No."
"Gimme something to kill it with."
I handed her the frying pan. "Here. I don't use this one."
She eyed it warily. "Why did you...?"
"They work better than fly-swatters."
"Ah...." She nodded and hefted the pan over her shoulder. "Trust me, big little bug," she began. "This is gonna hurt you a hell of a lot more than it's gonna hurt me."
braaaaang
"Did I get it?" She asked, glancing about here cautiously.
*scuttlescuttlescuttle*
I ran into the kitchen and got another frying pan. Bigger than the last one.
"Let me guess," drawled Lacey. "You don't use that one, either."
"It was a set."
"Do you use any of them?"
I stepped towards the roach. I could of sworn it was laughing. "What does it look like I'm doing? These things are being used." I swung.
braaaaang
"Iheardno*scrunch*whereisit?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?" I hissed. Lacey pointed at my feet and I let out a very un-Lauraish shriek of girly fear.
Then I ran to the phone.
"Where the hell are you going?!? It's not dead yet!"
"'tis be my last resort!"
"What, a larger frying pan? An exterminator?!"
I shook my head and dialed the phone. "No, the only guy friend I have in this god-forsaken town!"
"The guy I need to poke with my question stick?"
I face-palmed. "You...brought it with you..."
"DUH!!!"
*"Hello?"*
"H-hey, Johnny," I said. "Hey, do you mind doing me a small favour...?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You needed me...to kill a roach."
They nodded. Laura and...what was the other one's name again? Johnny wasn't quite sure.
He sighed. At least this wasn't a regular thing; the favours, that is.
"It's in there," said Laura, pointing toward the living room.
"And neither one of you, with two frying pans the size of frisbees, were able to kill it."
The friend snorted. "It's not like we haven't tried or anything. The little bastard just won't die."
*Sounds like Mr. Samsa...*
He walked towards the room of the roach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*The following scene had to be removed from the storyline, as I (Laura) was laughing too hard to remember what happened in detail. All I remember was Johnny swore A LOT, and Lacey laughed just as hard as I did. And for some reason I had to get a new frying pan.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My face hurt majorly, and my lungs felt as though I had run a fun twenty miles. Johnny looked like he had run an un-fun fifty.
"Is it dead?" I giggled.
He let out an aggravated sigh. "If it isn't we are all going to pretend that it is."
Lacey laughed and stuck out her hand. "Hey, I'm Lacey," she said by way of introduction. Johnny just stared at her hand like it was something suspicious that needed to be stared at.
"...Johnny..." he replied, not returning the hand-shake. Or the attempted hand-shake.
Hmmm....Johnny seemed to be in a bad mood. This needed some rectification.
"I have Fiz-wiz in the fridge, Johnny. Want one?"
"What is 'fiz-wiz?" Asked Lacey.
Now I was staring at Lacey as well.
"It's delicousness in a bottle," I replied. "You should have one, too..."
So I grabbed the deliciousness in a bottle and we sat down in the (somewhat battle-scarred) living room. I sat on the floor again, Lacey jumped onto the couch, and Johnny, looking slightly uncomfortable, remained standing. "Soooo....." I began. "Erm...Johnny! You told me the other day you're making progress on that painting! How's it coming along?"
"You paint too?" Asked Lacey.
Johnny nodded. "When I can...It's coming along alright. I haven't destroyed it yet."
"Well, that's always a good thing..." I said.
*Lacey hasn't brought out the stick yet. This is looking good so far...*
"Do you paint for a living?" She asked suddenly. "What do you do?"
*Dammit. Here comes the question stick...*
"No, I do not paint for a living," answered Johnny shortly.
*This ain't gonna be pretty...*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Something breathed in...and slowly breathed out. There were two in that apartment once again, a different other girl though.
It was quite interesting, actually. It would make what it wanted to do much more entertaining.
With the addition of that third...or was it that fourth? Something hadn't truly been keeping track. Bad Something! Bad, bad, bad! What was it here for if it weren't keeping the number of those involved in check? It made not an iota of sense.
The hunger was still there, unabated and roaring with anger.
Sick of waiting. Tired of simply watching.
It was growing restless. The appendages were rustling. The digits were twitching. Muscles aching from what may have been considered under use.
It needed to move.
It needed to move very, very soon.