#Little baby Fell!Papyrus having to think about it! But from which direction hmmm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keelywolfe · 5 years

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FIC: One Hand Behind Your Back (baon)

Summary: Playing stupid games, winning stupid prizes.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, References to Illness, Kustard

part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch didn’t have much in the way of an internal clock, but all it took was a quick glance at his phone confirm it was early enough that Edge probably hadn’t gone to work yet.

He rolled over in the bed to debate internally about that, trying to decide if it was worth waiting to get up to play at avoidance, but it didn’t really matter, did it? Edge would come up to kiss him goodbye before he left and besides, the siren smell of fresh brewed coffee was wafting into their bedroom.

In the end, he got up and pulled on his robe. Whatever would be, would be, and at least he’d have caffeine.

As suspected, Edge was sitting at the kitchen table, newspaper spread out in front of him as he sipped what was probably the third cup into his second pot of coffee. Honestly, Stretch loved him a cuppa, too, but Edge’s magic should be flowing in a dark roast by now.

“What are you doing up?” Edge asked, looking up with a frown. His pen, which had been in the process of circling any information in the paper that was worth passing on, hesitated, the tip trailing against the newsprint.

“don’t sound so happy to see me,” Stretch yawned, making his way to the coffee pot. “people’ll think we’re in love.”

Edge rolled his eye lights and went back to the paper. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but seeing you this early throws me off.”

Stretch poured a healthy, or well, probably not healthy at all measure of sugar into his cup, topping it with cream and then taking a deep, contented drink of the muddy results. That finished the pot, but he flicked the burner off instead of making a fresh one. If Edge wanted to up his daily jitter ratio, he could make another.

He leaned against the counter, taking a moment to admire the view. Edge was in one of his ‘I mean business’ work suits and there was something about seeing him all classy, in a dark crimson shirt and a black tie that had some seizure-inducing swirly pattern on it. Except he had his sleeves rolled up, jacket tossed over the back of a chair and Stretch would bet his lesser-used femur that no one at the Embassy got to see him like that. Classy, yeah, but ever so slightly taken apart, almost an invitation to disassemble him a little more.

It was like a sexy disguise, really, only much better than anything Batman had.

Any other day, Stretch would probably straddle Edge’s lap and make a good attempt at pushing his luck. Today he only wandered close enough to drape himself over the back of Edge’s chair.

“sorry i wrecked your groove. hmmm, you ever notice you call me sweetheart when you’re being a dick?” He grinned to take the sting out of it, nuzzling a smacking, wet kiss against the top of Edge’s skull.

Edge didn’t quite jerk away, but he did twitch and gave Stretch a look.

Actually, it was more like a Look, but that was okay. Stretch only smiled sweetly and leaned down, giving him a real kiss because those tended to soothe all looks and Looks when it came to his honey.

As per, Edge hummed appreciatively, kissing back for a long, toe-curling moment before pulling away and going back to his paper. “I’ll take your word on that, considering you’re the runner-up for the championship.”

“runner-up!”

Exchanging a Look for a smirk, oh, his baby was in fine form this morning. “Apologies, sweetheart, but my brother will always be better at being a dick than you.”

“eh, yeah, there’s an argument i can’t win.” But Stretch couldn’t help smiling because damn, he loved this asshole. He loved him so, so much…and he kinda needed him to leave. He plunked down into one of the chairs, picking at one of the half-eaten muffins Edge had on his plate. Long moments ticked by of Edge picking his dinosaur way through the paper, and yeah, he was going to have to move this along.

Nonchalantly, Stretch pulled out his phone and made a show of absently scrolling through it. “ooh, babe, you’re gonna be late.”

It worked. Edge looked at his own phone and made a disgruntled sound, folding up the newspaper and tossing it into his briefcase. He was only halfway into his jacket when he leaned down to steal another kiss and Stretch sighed into it, wishing he could share his affections as easily as he could his mouth, wishing he could damn well beam his love into Edge like Star Trek, one of the good episodes.

Meh, it wasn’t like Edge didn’t know. He hoped.

He waited until the front door closed and he heard the car start, pulling out of the garage and then down the road. Then he dropped his head down to rest it on his folded arms, breathing in slowly, letting it out.

Five minutes was all he allowed himself and then Stretch stood up. Time to get this over with.

Outside, there was a thin, fresh layer of snow on the ground, putting a lie to the idea that spring had sprung. It suited his mood and Stretch only zipped his jacket and burrowed deeper into his coat. It wasn’t like he was walking far anyway, not when a couple shortcuts would do.

~~*~~

All the windows were dark, and the glaring light on the front porch was less invitation than it was warning. Stretch ignored that, shortcutting up to the stairs.

Deliberately, he stepped on the pressure plate that he knew was concealed beneath the welcome mat. It set off a buzzer inside the house and he may as well annoy while he had the chance.

The front door remained closed, which meant either no one was home or no one cared he was here, and Stretch had pretty good odds on the latter. He knocked firmly. And again. Again, finally pounding on the door.

It swung open mid-pound and Stretch nearly fell forward on top of Red. Probably good that he didn’t; from the glare Red was sending up at him, he probably would have gotten shivved before they hit the ground.

“stretch, this better be good,” he growled. One of his eye lights was flickering, on the verge of going out.

Oooh, scary, especially with the way his shirt was on backwards.

“don’t even start with me, captain cockblock.” Stretch didn’t bother trying to shove Red aside to get in, sparing himself a possible stabbing by shortcutting into the front room. The strain of so many cuts in a brief time was starting to ache a little in his chest so he was either walking most of the way home or hanging out with the strangler here for a while. “i can’t even count how many times you’ve kept me from getting laid and i can recite pi for an hour. i need to talk to sans.”

From the shifty look Red was giving him, he was working up an excuse. Stretch deliberately toed at one of the shoes laying on its side on the mat, a shoe that decidedly did not belong to a Red and unless someone else in New New home was working lazyass chic, he knew who they belonged to.

Fuck it, they all knew who those shoes belonged to; these two could be dicks about it all they wanted, but no one except them was that stupid. Even Papyrus had more or less started discreetly leaving the cushion on the sofa next to Sans empty on movie nights, on the strict, unspoken understanding that whenever Red bothered to show up, if he showed up, that was where his ass belonged.

“for fuck’s sake, he knows i’m here,” came floating down the stairs. Proof that Sans at least had his head on in the general direction of straight. He appeared with a pop of teleportation directly on the sofa, still pulling a shirt over his head. “i’m not crouching in the closet with my pants halfway up waiting for you to get rid of him. hey, stretch, what’s up?”

Red was sputtering next to him like a cat in a swimming pool, but Stretch couldn’t pay attention to that. Now that he was in front of Sans, fear was choking him again, rising up thick and tight, clenching his soul. “check me.”

Uncomfortable prickles skittering over his bones, too much for one check, but he didn’t bother glaring at Red. Wasn’t like he didn’t know, or he wouldn’t very quickly find out. From their expressions, they were discovering the same thing he had the night before when he'd absently checked himself before bed.

Yeah, that had sucked a little.

Standing there in the bathroom, his toothbrush still in hand and foam dripping from his mouth. He hadn’t even really thought much about it for couple days, until he’d Checked. Not a minute later Edge walked in to go through his nighttime routine and all he could do was rinse his mouth and go to bed. Laying there in the darkness in Edge’s arms, listening to his even breathing, and waiting until morning when he could come here.

“the infusion didn’t work?” Sans said. His face reflected his dismay, and he was already on his feet, moving faster than most would give him credit for. “i thought-“

“no, it did work, it worked for most of the week.” Sans tugged demandingly on his sweatshirt and Stretch obediently crouched, shivering as another Check washed over him. “i noticed it dropped again last night.”

“is it still dropping?” Red asked sharply. Any irritation or sardonic humor vanished, he was all business in a blink, hovering back while Sans inspected him like a prospector in search of gold.

“don’t think so. it’s been holding steady all night. seems like my base hp just dropped to 4.”

“okay,” Red nodded slowly. He turned away and Stretch couldn’t see his face when he added, “you think if you use more of that infusion, it’ll help?”

“woah, wait a sec,” Sans straightened, letting go of Stretch’s sweatshirt so abruptly that he wobbled on his heels and fell back on his coccyx. “we’re scientists, and phd’s aside, we ain’t doctors. even if we were, we’re out of infused oil.”

“but you can make more, can’t you?” Not really a question. Red’s fingers tapped a rhythm against his femur, a thoughtful little tic.

Sans hesitated, then shook his head. “…yeah, we can, but. look, edge needs to know about this. i don’t play keep-away with this shit.”

“yeah?” Red turned back and favored them with a sharp-toothed smile. “and how’s he gonna react?”

Sans looked away. They both looked tired, Stretch realized, dark shadows under their sockets that didn’t look like they came from fun times. But Sans had very kindly invited him to stay out of it, so he wasn’t gonna ask. Not today, anyway.

Red only nodded as if Sans’s silence spoke a wiki's worth of confirmation. “fucking exactly. he’ll freak his shit and we just got him back on an even keel. fucked up shit at the embassy, fucked up shit with his…” Red bit off whatever he was going to say. “plus, we get the added bonus of paps and blue freaking their shit, and suddenly we got a shitshow on pay-per-view. is it really worth all that? say we tell him and it goes away in a week or two?”

“say we don’t tell him,” Sans countered, “and in a week or two his hp drops to three, only we didn’t tell him and he sees it on his own!”

Yeah, Stretch was about done watching these two arguing about his life. “i’ve had lower hp before, we all have. he could see it now, if he checked me. i’m not trying to hide it.”

“see?” Red wasn’t even bothering to hide his triumph. “not even a lie, only a little discreet ‘not sayin anything’.”

Years of dealing with his own crap had probably made Sans immune to anyone else’s. “yeah, it’s not me you’d have to convince of that, and you’ve got zero guesses on whether or not edge would buy stock in that line of bullshit.”

Not that he was wrong, but still—

“sans. two weeks. please,” Stretch pleaded. “i’ll go to the therapist, i’ll even see alphys if you want but…please.”

That was a carrot on a stick, a pretty fucking tasty one, and he knew it. They all hated doctors, but Stretch was usually the worst about it. Sans was visibly wavering, looking from Red to Stretch. Then he sank back with a shrug, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“you’ll go see alphys?” Sans asked, low.

“i promise.” Stretch made an ‘x’ over his soul and for good measure, held out a pinkie.

Sans hooked it with his own and sighed loudly. “okay. okay. you two are fucking me over a barrel, here, you know that.”

“that’s a new one,” Red leered. “better mark it down on our list. your magic-sucking machine still in the lab?”

Just the mention of the lab made Stretch swallow hard and that was on top of the nausea that watching Red flirting induced, “yeah, but—“

Sans must’ve still been feeling a little kindly towards him, because he didn’t force Stretch to finish. “don’t even worry about that, kiddo, the jack-off here can babysit me.”

“nah, i don’t think so,” Red said, “not my style. you can take the magic from me. specially if you’re gonna jack me off.”

“great, so stretch can grease himself up with your juicy jizz?” Sans’s grin was less forced even as Stretch made a gagging sound.

Red gave them a broad wink. “why should you have all the fun?”

“dunno if the ‘coconut cabana’ scent is gonna be enough to cover that up,” Sans said thoughtfully. “might have to take it all the way up to ‘moonlight lovebeam’ or whatever it’s called.”

“enough, i’m begging you both, stop before i barf on everyone’s shoes.” Stretch covered his mouth with one hand and crossed his eye lights in puke-pantomime. ”can we go back to pretending that i don’t know you two are screwing? it was a simpler, happier time for me.”

“you came into my house.” Red grinned. “play stupid games, win fucked up prizes. welp, i could eat right about now, not anything either of you can cook, and since we’re trying to keep pretty boy here alive, we probably shouldn’t risk mine.”

“edge made a strawberry cheese danish last night.” The least Stretch could do was offer them food, especially since he hadn’t made it.

“that’s what i like to hear!” Red slapped Stretch on the back as high as he could reach, which was still uncomfortably close to his tailbone. “let’s head back to your place, honey bun, and kill some of my bro's cooking, make some plans, yeah? get this done before himself gets home.”

“yeah, okay. can one of you…?” A faint sense of unreality washed over him, a push through the void that he never felt when he shortcutted himself. When it eased, they were standing in front of his house on the porch.”

“couldn’t put us in the living room?” Sans said disapprovingly. He grimaced as he trudged through the thin snow in his slippers.

“trust me, my bro would notice if we leave a smudge on the carpet. kick your shoes off at the door, sansy-sweet, and let’s try to be discreet?”

“you sure you wanna start playing pet names with me?” Sans asked. His tone was lazy, his eye lights anything but, “‘cause between shakespeare and the urban dictionary, think i can play to win.”

“that a promise? inquiring minds wanna know.”

Stretch trailed behind them, ignoring their squabbling. The fear that was making a home in his soul was muted, eased, a little. Not gone, no, but there was a plan now, and that was more than he usually managed.

Besides, Red knew Edge better than anyone, even him. He knew exactly how his brother would react to all this. It had to be better to try and figure it out before worrying him, see if it was an easy problem to solve, and it wasn’t like it was only the three of them, he was going to see Alphys, too.

It was a work in progress, was all, and not worth worrying him yet.

He couldn’t help playing with his wedding band while the three of them razed through the remains of the strawberry danish. The smooth metal was body-warm against his fingertips and the promises embedded into it were not ones he planned on breaking.

He’d talk to Edge if he had to, he would, tell him everything no matter how upset it would make him.

Just not yet.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #sans #kustard #by any other name

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ask-the-swapfell-crew · 7 years

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SF!papyrus Riffs on “A Day of Thanksgiving” (the 403 followers special)

SF!papyrus: young america films presents a short that no young american will watch, unless someone is making smartass commentary over it. a fake educational short film by eli roth. co-directed by legendary filmmaker lawrence kansas from tennessee. *laughs* nyahahaha! oh, that mallard fillmore! you can't stack taxes up there! *normal* pardon me, let me turn down the scotch…

Dad: I'm Bill Johnson. Around here they just call me "Dad".

SF!papyrus: "dad" is our safe-word…

Dad: I'm trying to read but I just can't seem to do it. I keep thinking about today…

SF!papyrus: national literacy day!

Dad: We Johnsons had a good Thanksgiving. The best we've ever had…

SF!papyrus: grandpa johnson only used the n-word twice.

Dad: … A real feeling of thankfulness. And that's odd too when you consider the shape things were in when I got home from work yesterday.

SF!papyrus: Danny had scattered my papers all over the floor and all I tried to do was pull him up – slight momentarily loss of muscular coordination.

Dad: As kids will, mine were living tomorrow right along with today.

SF!papyrus: all of their trouble seem so far away. now they need a place to hide away…

Dad: Mother instead of me had to break the news to them.

Susan: Tommorow is thanksgiving!

SF!papyrus: billy, it's speaking to us again…

Dick: … and pie and cake.

Tommy: And fruit-salad and whipped cream and cranberries! Gee!

SF!papyrus: and tutti fruttis and crackerjacks and big league chew and a bottle of old harbour and a glass of cane sugar!

Mom: Well, your father and I thought that…… Well, the truth of the matter is; there just won't be any turkey this year.

SF!papyrus: because we want hilarity to ensue like in "the hoboken chicken emergency".

Mom: … pumpkin pie, we'll have plenty to eat but… Well, we just have to get along without turkey.

Dick: Mom, you don't mean it!?

SF!papyrus: next thing you're gonna tell me that women will get to vote!?

Susan: Even the pilgrims had a feast. After all, isn't that what Thanksgiving's for? I don't think it's fair…

Dad: And it was right there that I came in.

SF!papyrus: it seemed like the best time to tell them that christmas had also been cancelled… *talking gibberish* hey, hey ralph! eh show me the bo…! i'm in the wrong house!?

Dad: … Dick, Susan? *a beat* Now what's been going on around here?

SF!papyrus: Why am I the only one who's five whiskeys slighter deep into 3 in the afternoon?

Susan: … no good thing!

Dick: A fat lot we have to be thankful for…

SF!papyrus: Yeah, dad! You're a loser! I overheard mom wondering why you can put in 12 hours at work but can't manage 3 minutes in the bedroom.

Dick: … gonna have it this year. Same as always!

Dad: Yes, we've always had turkey, just as a lot of Americans have had it and we'll keep on having it.

SF!papyrus: Huh, do we look like a family of commies? Ha!

Dad: But what you kids are saying makes it sound as if the turkey is the only thing we have to be thankful for.

Dick: Oh gee whiz. No, dad.

SF!papyrus: Huh, yulk!

Dad: Oh I know, Dick.

SF!papyrus: Father knows dick…

Dad: It's easy to loose sight of what Thanksgiving really means.

Mom: And don't think we're just making excuses, because we don't have any turkey this year.

SF!papyrus: Your father has convinced me that it's all my fault.

Mom: … it'll mean a lot more to us the next time we do have it.

Dick: Well, sure. Suppose we don't have a bang-up feast, we're still a lot better off than the pilgrims.

SF!papyrus: Yeah! Stupid pilgrims – the true victims of the new world.

Dad: Turkey or no turkey, we still got all the freedoms and privileges the pilgrims gave us.

SF!papyrus: Except for witch-burnings. I've been told that tradition is now frowned upon…

Dad: … that pilgrims never even dreamed of.

Tommy: Why, we can make a list a mile long!

Susan: Why don't we do it?

SF!papyrus: And if any of the names are anti-pilgrim/-American we can get them blacklisted from Pilgrim, Hollywood, we sure can!

Dad: You got to feel down deep before you can really be thankful for anything. I tell you what we'll do… Let's take a little more time to think this over.

SF!papyrus: Because I'm not gonna remember this after I pass out in 5 minutes… Your mom is nervous-stirring again, isn't she?

Dad: Your life? Sure, that's one thing you can't get along without. But do you know that there are some places in the world today, where you have to get along without just about everything else?

SF!papyrus: Like properly structuring a sentence…

Dad: I guess I kinda got carried away…

SF!papyrus: Sorry you got to see me like this. Come here swift, I'll beat the memories out of you!

Dad: When we sit down to WHATEVER mother fixes to eat tomorrow…

SF!papyrus: Which will no doubt be garbage.

Dad: … that will really have a Thanksgiving dinner! *Next scene* Well, that's how it got started. The Johnsons didn't have any turkey…

SF!papyrus: And thus I created the original "First World Problems"-meme.

Dad: … to make something special out of a special day. So we fell back on something as old as the pilgrims.

SF!papyrus: Prostitution!

Dad: … the common, ordinary blessings that we had to be thankful for. *Next scene* That night I'd see Dick there, building his model airplane.

SF!papyrus: Often times I as well daydream about dick…

Dad: They'd mellow things over, thinking big thoughts for such young heads.

SF!papyrus *as baby Janet*: Let's see – the pythagorean theorem states that the square of the hypotenuse is equal or… opposite of the two sides? *as dad* Hmmm, on second thought. Funky Winkerbean kinda sucks…

SF!papyrus: As you can see, mother lost the first round of strip-thanksgiving.

Dad: And then… Well, we all knew it. There are some things you just can't say.

SF!papyrus: For instance, why did I agree to so many flowers on the wallpaper and the artwork?

Dad: … and this was a time to think about it.

SF!papyrus: Dearest secretary Khrushchev…

Tommy: I am thankful for getting plenty to eat all the time.

SF!papyrus: But I don't understand the need to always throw up after dinner…

Tommy: Like mom says – I'm hungry all the time anyway and if I didn't live in a country where there is plenty to go around… Golly!

SF!papyrus: FUCKING LANGUAGE!!!

Tommy: And I am thankful for the free public library…

SF!papyrus: Where I can laugh at the homeless people and beat them with a bag of money that I then set on fire.

Tommy: … the way they tell a story is as good as being there yourself. And it's free with only a library-card.

SF!papyrus: Which, according to the internet, the government uses to spy on its middle-class suburban white citizens.

Dad: And somehow, turkey and trimming seemed to matter a whole lot less than he thought they did yesterday.

SF!papyrus: Because he snuck out at 3 in the morning to steal the turkey from the Salvation Army.

Dad: You never credit her with thinking beyond her doll.

SF!papyrus: Since she's a woman, you see…

Susan: I am thankful for having what we need to wear.

SF!papyrus: Mom, was that a bulimia joke in the previous prayer?

Susan: I never thought before how many clothes it takes for all kinds of weather or how it would be to have to do without the right ones.

SF!papyrus: I can't imagine living in a world of mixing blue jeans with black t-shirts.

Susan: I'll go to any church I want any sunday.

SF!papyrus: Except for the protestants.

Susan: I am thankful for my mother and daddy that they're here with us. That both of them aren't too worried about things to take time to have fun with us.

SF!papyrus: Like teaching us about grammar.

Susan: … that families are still important in America.

Dad: I guess Dick, being the oldest, was having some pretty serious thoughts.

SF!papyrus: Dick often has serious thoughts about dick-oriented dick-activity.

Dick: … education. For living where our schools, all schools, open their doors to a guy who wants to learn.

SF!papyrus: As long as his skin is the same color as Jesus.

Dick: Where a guy is rated by how much he knows and a community is rated by how well it teaches him.

SF!papyrus: By the proper size of their family's dicks…

Dick: … banging a ball 'round once in a while.

SF!papyrus: Dick often marvels at how fun it is playing outdoors with his balls.

Dad: Sure, baby Janet…

SF!papyrus: I'M RUNNING ON EMPTY HERE!!! BRING MOTHER OVER TO POP OUT THE RUM-TITS!!!

Dad: … even to tell us the things that makes her happy.

SF!papyrus: She's thinking about the time when she gets older and questions why there was a group of men filming her in the bathtub.

Dad: … thinking about the fun, splashing around in the tub and about how good it feels to be clean.

SF!papyrus: Oh, this doll was sent to us from uncle Ed in Edlery in Warren.

Dad: … she feels in her mother's arms. *next scene* And as for mother…

SF!papyrus: She has no thoughts unless I give them to her.

Dad: Cooking, ironing, tending children daylight to dark.

SF!papyrus: Contemplating would stop the meeting of a razorblade and the wrists.

Mom: I am thankful that my children had the privilege of being born safely.

SF!papyrus: And American and white and not poor and christian and white again…

Mom: I am thankful that I have the privilege of guiding them that they become useful men and women.

SF!papyrus: Soon change their names to "Cowsill".

Mom: And I am thankful for all the things our American system makes possible for the Smiths and the Browns… and the Johnsons.

SF!papyrus: But more so the Smiths and the Johnsons over the Browns…

Mom: Hot water out of the tap.

SF!papyrus *screaming in pain*: AAAARGH!!!

Mom: And a telephone to call the doctor when one in the family is sick.

SF!papyrus: Yep, the rickets again… And pink eye and brown eye. *as dad* I'll be back soon, honey. Gotta meet Woodward and Bernstein and another parking garage.

Mom: I am thankful that when my neighbor drops in to borrow a cup of flour, we got the right to talk about anything we want to.

SF!papyrus *whispers*: My baby is black!

Mom: … future project, the new mayor or Jane Jones' hat.

Annoying cat: *meeeoow!*

SF!papyrus: Yes, they're thankful for you too, cat…

Mom: I am truly thankful for the peace of mind…

SF!papyrus *as dad*: I hope those broads aren't talking about my new hat… *as dad's boss* Yeah look, Johnson… About the turkey-bonus, we decided to send you home with a certificate to the "Jelly of the Month Club"… and you're fired!

Mom: I'm glad dad doesn't work slave-hours.

SF!papyrus: Because if there's one thing our family can relate to; it's slavery.

Dad: That's mother for you…

SF!papyrus: Always passing out at the dinner-table, thinking about slavery…

Dad: And now for me… I've got so many things to be thankful for.

SF!papyrus: Such as a full head of hair and a straightened tie.

Dad: It may need a coat of paint, it has a mortgage but it's ours. A place where we can be together in privacy.

SF!papyrus: With the relatives of the previous owners I've never bothered looking for the potties.

Dad: The happiness here, not just today or on Christmas morning, but on a day-to-day basis all things here…

SF!papyrus: It'll make us happier if we had some turkey instead of POPCORN, DAD!

Dad: … knowing that a knock on our door means nothing to fear.

SF!papyrus: House Committee on Un-American Activities, open up!

Dad: … or kids selling magazines, you never know what to expect.

SF!papyrus: We hear you're hiding turkeys…

Dad: It's not going to be some political gangster coming to drag one of us off to jail because we believe in freedom.

SF!papyrus: Questioning our fine government is a treason of offensiveness in this household!

Dad: … that freedom we've got let's me choose the kind of work I like and can do best.

SF!papyrus: But no one would hire me as a graphic designer, so I fix cars!

Dad: … makes me feel that somebody got to his work or wherever he had to go just because of me. A feeling like that gives me a lot of satisfaction.

SF!papyrus: And makes me, yet again, think of Dick…

Dad: And I am thankful for my newspaper. Just a few sentences and words of printer's ink in paper.

SF!papyrus: It still seems like too much of an expense to print anything from Charles Krauthammer.

Dad: The editor has got the privilege of printing what he thinks and I got the privilege of agreeing with him or not.

SF!papyrus: For instance their questionable use of the term "legitimate rape"…

Dad: And both of us, the editor and I, have the right to act on our opinions on Election Day.

SF!papyrus: No son of mine is gonna share water fountains with albinos!

Dad: And finally…

SF!papyrus: Oh right, this was supposed to be about Thanksgiving…!

Dad: In spite of everything, that somehow someway, the unity we've got here in the Johnson family will someday…

SF!papyrus: My son's name is "Dick Johnson"?

Dad: For all these things we are truly and humbly thankful. Amen…

SF!papyrus: Mazel tov! Mother, I don't want you and neighbors talking about hats anymore! Dick, I'm sorry for the inevitable school-beatings. Baby, we'll come up with a name for you sooner or later! Billy, stop fattening your sister! And remember, this is a Nixon-household! Oh ehm…, THAT'S IT! Our baby's name is Checkers!

*The End*

#SF!papyrus #swapfell #special #riffing

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