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ds_flashfictionOkee-dokey, here's my offering:
* * *
-- Hello, Nikki? It's me. Listen, I--
-- You what? Oh for Pete's sake, Nikki! I said five hours marinating, two hours in the oven, and three hundred degrees, not five at five. . .
-- No, no, we'll do Chinese. Listen, Nikki, You'll never guess what we have going on here. THUMPING!
-- Thumping, we have thumping coming from the wall. On the ground floor. Thumping through the wall. I swear, Nikki, I've worked the desk here seven years and I have NEVER in my life heard thumping before. Loud as elephants.
-- Not 'telephones,' dear. Elephants. While I was in the powder room. You know, I never even thought about what's on the other side of the wall from the Ladies' room. I mean, I know the whole station, but I can't picture it, not like on a drawing in my head. My head doesn't work that way.
-- Yes, your brother Harold could do things like that. Yes, God rest him, he could take one look at an engine and tell you what was wrong, but Nikki, the man could not read a map. Or ask for directions. ANYWAY… So, I'm in the john with my Cosmo and it starts. Thumping. On the wall behind me. Well, I nearly fell off the toilet. I thought something broke next door, but it keeps on going, and going, and it's getting louder, so I finish up my business and go into the hall, and you know what's on the other side? Take a guess.
-- No.
-- No.
-- No.
-- Nikki, stop guessing, you'll never get it. The supply closet.
-- I know, you've never been there, but things aren't supposed to THUMP in there.
-- Of course I didn't go in. You know I'm not one for prying.
-- Do not snicker, Nikki.
-- I'm warning you.
-- I am your sister. I am a police officer. Do not make me mad, Nikki. Do you want me to tell Roger about the. . .you-know-what?
-- All right, then. As I was saying, I make it my business to stay out of other people's, well, business. Well, except for that thing with Marge, but God knows she deserved it. So the closet door was locked, this much I can tell you. And of course I did not want to poke my nose in where it does not belong. But, you know, it could have been anything. It could have been terrorists. SO. . . I went back to the powder room. And can you believe it? The thumping was louder than ever, and there was some other sort of noise, too, like voices, but not words. I just couldn't make out what they were saying, so I got up on the toilet and listened through the grate and Nikki! Guess what?
-- No, dear, they were not praying. They were moaning!
-- Yes, there was MOANING and THUMPING coming from the closet, and the thumping was coming RHYTHMICALLY, if you get my drift, Nikki.
--Yes! Exactly! Thank God. I thought I was going to have to spell it out.
-- No, I didn't recognize the voices. I thought maybe that little bimbo that works in the detective division. I told you about her, the one related to the detective who went. . .uh. Never mind.
-- No, I can't. Not supposed to talk about it.
-- I CAN'T. Anyway, I had my nail file with me, and I unscrewed the grate, and Nikki! Not only could I hear better, I could SEE through the wall. See into the closet. And OH MY GOD! They were DOING IT!
-- IT, dear. Doing IT. You know.
-- Oh, you do too.
-- Nikki. Doing it. Having, uh, carnal relations.
-- 'Carnations???' Mother of God, Nikki, did you bake your brains at five hundred degrees for five hours? They were having S-E-X! Humping! Screwing the daylights out of each other!
-- Who? No, NOT the bimbo. Sorry, I didn't explain. The Mountie. The Canadian Mountie I told you about. And that other one, the one who's supposed to be. . . uh, I mean, Detective Vecchio. Only his name is really. . . no. forget it.
-- Yes, I was shocked. Yes.
-- Nooooo. . . NOT disgusting. Not really. More sort of. . . well. . . hmmmmm. Let's change the subject. Listen Nikki, let's forget Chinese tonight.
-- Because I'm in the mood for kielbasa. Okay?
-- Okay, dear. Okay. See you later.
-- Wait! Nikki, turn off the oven. Bye!
* * *
-- Hello, Nikki? It's me. Listen, I--
-- You what? Oh for Pete's sake, Nikki! I said five hours marinating, two hours in the oven, and three hundred degrees, not five at five. . .
-- No, no, we'll do Chinese. Listen, Nikki, You'll never guess what we have going on here. THUMPING!
-- Thumping, we have thumping coming from the wall. On the ground floor. Thumping through the wall. I swear, Nikki, I've worked the desk here seven years and I have NEVER in my life heard thumping before. Loud as elephants.
-- Not 'telephones,' dear. Elephants. While I was in the powder room. You know, I never even thought about what's on the other side of the wall from the Ladies' room. I mean, I know the whole station, but I can't picture it, not like on a drawing in my head. My head doesn't work that way.
-- Yes, your brother Harold could do things like that. Yes, God rest him, he could take one look at an engine and tell you what was wrong, but Nikki, the man could not read a map. Or ask for directions. ANYWAY… So, I'm in the john with my Cosmo and it starts. Thumping. On the wall behind me. Well, I nearly fell off the toilet. I thought something broke next door, but it keeps on going, and going, and it's getting louder, so I finish up my business and go into the hall, and you know what's on the other side? Take a guess.
-- No.
-- No.
-- No.
-- Nikki, stop guessing, you'll never get it. The supply closet.
-- I know, you've never been there, but things aren't supposed to THUMP in there.
-- Of course I didn't go in. You know I'm not one for prying.
-- Do not snicker, Nikki.
-- I'm warning you.
-- I am your sister. I am a police officer. Do not make me mad, Nikki. Do you want me to tell Roger about the. . .you-know-what?
-- All right, then. As I was saying, I make it my business to stay out of other people's, well, business. Well, except for that thing with Marge, but God knows she deserved it. So the closet door was locked, this much I can tell you. And of course I did not want to poke my nose in where it does not belong. But, you know, it could have been anything. It could have been terrorists. SO. . . I went back to the powder room. And can you believe it? The thumping was louder than ever, and there was some other sort of noise, too, like voices, but not words. I just couldn't make out what they were saying, so I got up on the toilet and listened through the grate and Nikki! Guess what?
-- No, dear, they were not praying. They were moaning!
-- Yes, there was MOANING and THUMPING coming from the closet, and the thumping was coming RHYTHMICALLY, if you get my drift, Nikki.
--Yes! Exactly! Thank God. I thought I was going to have to spell it out.
-- No, I didn't recognize the voices. I thought maybe that little bimbo that works in the detective division. I told you about her, the one related to the detective who went. . .uh. Never mind.
-- No, I can't. Not supposed to talk about it.
-- I CAN'T. Anyway, I had my nail file with me, and I unscrewed the grate, and Nikki! Not only could I hear better, I could SEE through the wall. See into the closet. And OH MY GOD! They were DOING IT!
-- IT, dear. Doing IT. You know.
-- Oh, you do too.
-- Nikki. Doing it. Having, uh, carnal relations.
-- 'Carnations???' Mother of God, Nikki, did you bake your brains at five hundred degrees for five hours? They were having S-E-X! Humping! Screwing the daylights out of each other!
-- Who? No, NOT the bimbo. Sorry, I didn't explain. The Mountie. The Canadian Mountie I told you about. And that other one, the one who's supposed to be. . . uh, I mean, Detective Vecchio. Only his name is really. . . no. forget it.
-- Yes, I was shocked. Yes.
-- Nooooo. . . NOT disgusting. Not really. More sort of. . . well. . . hmmmmm. Let's change the subject. Listen Nikki, let's forget Chinese tonight.
-- Because I'm in the mood for kielbasa. Okay?
-- Okay, dear. Okay. See you later.
-- Wait! Nikki, turn off the oven. Bye!
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no subject
Date: 2003-04-15 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-16 06:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-16 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-16 06:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-16 04:20 am (UTC)I have a thing (is it still a kink if it's not about sex?) for half-heard phone conversations. Nice job.
Re: Whoot!
Date: 2003-04-16 06:34 am (UTC)Hysterical!
Date: 2003-04-16 02:17 pm (UTC)I am absolutely loving this community and feel kind of guilty that I don't participate, just read and enjoy and... HEY, I'm a VOYEUR!
Re: Thump
Date: 2003-04-16 03:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-16 07:03 pm (UTC)JennyB.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-30 04:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-31 04:28 am (UTC)