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ds_flashfictionAssignment, by Celtiknot
670 words, rated N for Nothing You Couldn't Show Your Grandmother.
Assignment
Friday
Thank god he got a new uniform, and didn't have to wear Turnbull's.
He'd seen pictures of the guy, and draping his scrawny frame in that
much serge would have left odd flaps and bulges. Ray walked back and
forth across the room, until the walking in the tall boots didn't feel
so much like trying to walk in ladies’ heels. Man, how much taller did
the guy need to be?
Saturday
Ray went out to a club, thinking he could have one last hurrah before
settling down for his next gig in the Consulate of Dullsville (Turnbull's
hobbies included "cleaning technology", whatever the hell
that was, and flower pressing), but the music was crap, and everybody
was too fake (yeah, hi, pot, I'm kettle) and he was back in Turnbull's
bedroom by 10, alone.
Sunday
Fuck, but this uniform was high maintenance. Brushing, polishing,
shining....and how did you get oil from a neat's foot anyway? What's a
neat?
Monday
Insertion into his current gig was pretty anticlimactic. He'd presented
his fake papers, and gotten shown to his desk. He only had the one
Mountie to deal with for the next week, the one he'd dubbed the
Ice Queen. He wondered if Turnbull'd gone undercover just to get away
from her. Naw, he couldn't have planned a freak resemblance to a
Vancouver drug lord. Nothing in Turnbull's file had suggested
"competent undercover operative"...but that wasn't Ray's problem. No,
Ray's only problems were remembering to answer the phone in two languages,
and stay in dorky character. He stuck his tongue out at the Ice Queen,
probably doing her nails behind her heavy office door, and viciously knocked
a painting askew with his duster.
Tuesday
Phone calls answered: 17
Phone calls answered correctly in two languages: 6
Visitors: 23 (social studies class from P.S. 147)
His cheeks hurt from a day's worth of inane grinning.
Wednesday
The Ice Queen sent Ray out to pick up her dry cleaning. While Ray
appreciated his brief freedom, he felt obligated to be annoyed for
professional reasons. Later, while watering a vase of lilies, he
deliberately dribbled water across the creedan- crezda - chest thing.
Thursday
Ray bounced experimentally on the Queen’s Bed. If the Queen ever comes to visit,
she better have a good Royal Chiropractor.
After some serious practice, Ray can hold his breath for up to
one minute now. If he ever learns to swim, that should come in handy.
Friday
Staplers refilled to maximum capacity: 3
Light bulbs replaced: 2 (one defunct, one that just looked iffy)
Phone calls answered: 2
Wrong numbers: 1
Sinks scrubbed: 3 (1 kitchen, 2 bathroom)
Ray scowled at the pink rubber gloves and left them under the sink.
Monday
The other Constable, Fraser, was standing by Turnbull’s desk, looking adrift,
when Ray got back from a post office/dry cleaners/Starbuck’s run. “Constable!
Welcome to Canada! I hoped you enjoyed your vacation in the Northwest Territories.”
“Ah, yes, Constable…..”
“Turnbull.”
“No, Fraser. And you would be Constable…..”
“Turnbull. You have talked with the Ic-Inspector, right?’”
“Ah, no.”
“Well, you’d better. “
Fraser eyed him warily as if afraid he would suddenly spring at him and start
foaming at the mouth. He walked slowly to her office door, practically sidling
in order to keep his eyes on Ray. Ray stopped his polite smile from sliding into
a smirk. “Good afternoon to you, too, Diefenbaker.“
Later that afternoon, Ray heard bumps and thuds from Fraser’s office. He snagged
a catalog addressed to “occupant” out of the trash, and carried it into Fraser’s
office. “Hey, Fraser. Constable. Do you, uh, require assistance? Oh, here’s
your…” International Male catalog??? “-mail”.
Fraser leaned what looked like half an angry tent against the desk, and took
the catalog. He looked frustrated and smelled like smoke. Ray nudged the cot,
which promptly pinched his fingers. Ray put his fingers in his mouth and sucked
on them. He looked up, and caught Fraser’s eye.
Phone calls answered: 4
Obscene phone calls: 1
New temporary roommate: 1
670 words, rated N for Nothing You Couldn't Show Your Grandmother.
Assignment
Friday
Thank god he got a new uniform, and didn't have to wear Turnbull's.
He'd seen pictures of the guy, and draping his scrawny frame in that
much serge would have left odd flaps and bulges. Ray walked back and
forth across the room, until the walking in the tall boots didn't feel
so much like trying to walk in ladies’ heels. Man, how much taller did
the guy need to be?
Saturday
Ray went out to a club, thinking he could have one last hurrah before
settling down for his next gig in the Consulate of Dullsville (Turnbull's
hobbies included "cleaning technology", whatever the hell
that was, and flower pressing), but the music was crap, and everybody
was too fake (yeah, hi, pot, I'm kettle) and he was back in Turnbull's
bedroom by 10, alone.
Sunday
Fuck, but this uniform was high maintenance. Brushing, polishing,
shining....and how did you get oil from a neat's foot anyway? What's a
neat?
Monday
Insertion into his current gig was pretty anticlimactic. He'd presented
his fake papers, and gotten shown to his desk. He only had the one
Mountie to deal with for the next week, the one he'd dubbed the
Ice Queen. He wondered if Turnbull'd gone undercover just to get away
from her. Naw, he couldn't have planned a freak resemblance to a
Vancouver drug lord. Nothing in Turnbull's file had suggested
"competent undercover operative"...but that wasn't Ray's problem. No,
Ray's only problems were remembering to answer the phone in two languages,
and stay in dorky character. He stuck his tongue out at the Ice Queen,
probably doing her nails behind her heavy office door, and viciously knocked
a painting askew with his duster.
Tuesday
Phone calls answered: 17
Phone calls answered correctly in two languages: 6
Visitors: 23 (social studies class from P.S. 147)
His cheeks hurt from a day's worth of inane grinning.
Wednesday
The Ice Queen sent Ray out to pick up her dry cleaning. While Ray
appreciated his brief freedom, he felt obligated to be annoyed for
professional reasons. Later, while watering a vase of lilies, he
deliberately dribbled water across the creedan- crezda - chest thing.
Thursday
Ray bounced experimentally on the Queen’s Bed. If the Queen ever comes to visit,
she better have a good Royal Chiropractor.
After some serious practice, Ray can hold his breath for up to
one minute now. If he ever learns to swim, that should come in handy.
Friday
Staplers refilled to maximum capacity: 3
Light bulbs replaced: 2 (one defunct, one that just looked iffy)
Phone calls answered: 2
Wrong numbers: 1
Sinks scrubbed: 3 (1 kitchen, 2 bathroom)
Ray scowled at the pink rubber gloves and left them under the sink.
Monday
The other Constable, Fraser, was standing by Turnbull’s desk, looking adrift,
when Ray got back from a post office/dry cleaners/Starbuck’s run. “Constable!
Welcome to Canada! I hoped you enjoyed your vacation in the Northwest Territories.”
“Ah, yes, Constable…..”
“Turnbull.”
“No, Fraser. And you would be Constable…..”
“Turnbull. You have talked with the Ic-Inspector, right?’”
“Ah, no.”
“Well, you’d better. “
Fraser eyed him warily as if afraid he would suddenly spring at him and start
foaming at the mouth. He walked slowly to her office door, practically sidling
in order to keep his eyes on Ray. Ray stopped his polite smile from sliding into
a smirk. “Good afternoon to you, too, Diefenbaker.“
Later that afternoon, Ray heard bumps and thuds from Fraser’s office. He snagged
a catalog addressed to “occupant” out of the trash, and carried it into Fraser’s
office. “Hey, Fraser. Constable. Do you, uh, require assistance? Oh, here’s
your…” International Male catalog??? “-mail”.
Fraser leaned what looked like half an angry tent against the desk, and took
the catalog. He looked frustrated and smelled like smoke. Ray nudged the cot,
which promptly pinched his fingers. Ray put his fingers in his mouth and sucked
on them. He looked up, and caught Fraser’s eye.
Phone calls answered: 4
Obscene phone calls: 1
New temporary roommate: 1
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no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 05:51 am (UTC)Hee! This is great! :)
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 05:58 am (UTC)Staplers refilled to maximum capacity: 3
Light bulbs replaced: 2 (one defunct, one that just looked iffy)
I hate that kind of working, but I love your description of it. Classic!
Will there be more? *looks hopeful*
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 06:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 12:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 06:04 am (UTC)hee. I have this feeling that another week of this (without Fraser to distract him) and he'd snap and start killing people.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 12:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 02:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 08:04 am (UTC)Walks away ::chuckling::.
Thank you, kindly.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 12:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 08:35 am (UTC)That's an idea - Ray undercover as Turnbull...
The other Constable, Fraser, was standing by Turnbull’s desk, looking adrift,
when Ray got back from a post office/dry cleaners/Starbuck’s run. “Constable!
Welcome to Canada! I hoped you enjoyed your vacation in the Northwest Territories.”
Love it!
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 09:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 01:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 01:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 11:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 01:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 12:39 pm (UTC)Ray put his fingers in his mouth and sucked
on them. He looked up, and caught Fraser’s eye.
The start of something big! Yeah!
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 12:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 12:46 pm (UTC)Greatness! Wonder how many ways Ray could kill with a stapler. Consider he has to look dorky, is he wearing his glasses? MMmmm glasses...
no subject
Date: 2005-06-07 04:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 01:01 pm (UTC)Er... don't suppose we can persuade you to write more of this, can we?
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 01:03 pm (UTC)Squeeeee!!!!
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 01:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 01:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 01:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 07:18 pm (UTC)So many great lines, but this one really stuck out: everybody
was too fake (yeah, hi, pot, I'm kettle). That and the credenza. *bg*
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 07:26 pm (UTC)After some serious practice, Ray can hold his breath for up to one minute now. If he ever learns to swim, that should come in handy.
Haven't we all been that bored at work before?
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 10:11 pm (UTC)New temporary roommate: 1
Aww.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 11:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-06 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-07 10:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-09 12:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-15 12:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-26 06:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-02 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-02 07:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-02 10:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-03 05:59 pm (UTC)Excellent idea! I loved the daily log of things accomplished. I've always wondered what Turnbull did all day. *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-06-15 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-15 11:07 pm (UTC)I especially love Ray's entries about the phone calls. Oh, Ray! :)
no subject
Date: 2011-09-05 11:18 am (UTC)It's every bit too perfect for me to single out favorite lines. What a beautiful twisty mind you have to write this!