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Aug. 26th, 2009 10:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ellerkayTitle: With a Capital Tee
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ellerkay (previously published under collectively)
Challenger:bdan32
Challenge: I combined two for this one – Tee and Harper "There's always money in the banana stand!" and Harper and Andy "lets forget the six feet and concentrate on the nine inches"
Fandoms: The United States of Tara, Angels in America, Weeds, Arrested Development
Rating: PG-13ish. Mild drug use, attempted robbery. Some swearing.
Word count: 1,132
Summary: They do say that there’s always money in the banana stand. Sort-of a sequel to Big Yellow Joint. Crackity crack crack crack.
Harper was dreaming.
Well, she was pretty sure she was dreaming. She used to get confused about what was a dream and what was a hallucination brought on by fever or too many pills.
But she didn’t take the pills anymore, and she didn’t think she was sick. That left dreaming. And the figure on the couch was familiar.
“Do I…know you?” she asked.
He began coughing, choking on the smoke he was inhaling from what looked like a hand-rolled cigarette. He glanced around at the Grecian décor and the shaft of light coming in from the hole in the ceiling. “Holy shit, this stuff is strong!” he said, staring the cigarette. His voice was thick with smoke. He looked up at the hole in the ceiling again, which was probably at least thirty feet above their heads. “How high do you think this ceiling is? Like six feet nine? I think I could climb up through there.” He stared intently upwards. “My dad always used to say to break down a problem into little, manageable chunks. So let’s forget about the six feet and concentrate on the nine inches.” Finally, he glanced up at Harper. “Oh, hey, Nance, when did you get home?”
“I’m not. Home,” Harper replied. “I’m dreaming. You’re in my dream. And I’m not…‘Nance.’”
“Oh, come on, Nancy,” the man scoffed. Harper frowned, wondering if she should be alarmed. The man was watching her, looking puzzled.
“Wow, you’re…really not Nancy, are you?” he said, examining her closely. “I guess you do look a…little bit different.” He shook his head. “I must have fallen asleep smoking. Weird. Well, hello, not-Nancy.” He rose and extended his hand. “I’m Andy Botwin.”
She took his hand hesitantly and shook it fast, letting go as quickly as possible. “Harper. Is my name. But I think we’ve met before. Um…a few years ago. Back when I took too many pills.”
Andy shook his head. “No, I’m pretty sure I’d remember,” he said. “You look almost exactly like my sister-in-law.”
“Well, then, I met someone who looked almost exactly like you!” she said. “He wore makeup, and he was…sick. But not all of him. I tried to tell him.”
“Did you?” Andy asked absently. He looked like he was thinking hard. He shook himself. “I feel like there was something I was going to tell you – oh!” He snapped his fingers. “Right. I remember it now. There’s always money in the banana stand.” He made a tch-tch sound with his tongue.
And, because it was a dream, Harper suddenly knew exactly where he meant. It was on the boardwalk, and she could even picture it. It resembled the little cigarette Andy was smoking, only it was big. And yellow.
***
Harper woke up suddenly, her eyes snapping open. She was in her hotel room in Orange County. The air conditioner hummed softly.
After a shower and some toast and orange juice, Harper stopped at the front desk and asked how to get to the boardwalk. It was in walking distance, and she left immediately.
It was past noon – she had slept for a long time. The sun was hot overhead, but there was a cool breeze from the ocean and in no time at all, Harper could see the yellow of the banana stand in the distance.
As she approached it, she saw a girl in a tank-top and tight shorts climbing on the ledge, examining the closed shutter. When she stretched up, the straps of her thong were revealed, and she reached behind her back to tug up the shorts.
“Hello?” Harper said uncertainly, and the girl spun around, hopped off the ledge, and leaned casually against the banana stand, all in one lightning-fast move. Now that Harper could see her face, she realized that she must actually be over forty, though somehow she seemed much younger.
“You a cop?” the girl (Harper couldn’t help but think of her that way) asked.
“No. I’m Harper.”
“Oh.” She relaxed. “I’m Tee. What up, slut?” She turned around again and started prodding at the lock on the shutter.
“Um. Well, I had this dream last night, and this guy told me I could find some money here – ” Tee spun quickly, looking intently at her. “I don’t really need money, but…I don’t know. I wanted to come. I felt like I should. I can’t believe it’s real.
Tee’s mouth was hanging open. Harper could actually see the pink of her bubble gum, partly hidden under her tongue. “No fuckin’ way!” she said. “What did this guy look like? Early forties, balding, kinda sleazy?”
“No…”
“Did he try and do some really lame magic tricks? And then call them illusions?”
Harper shook her head. “No, he was younger. Maybe mid-thirties. Not balding. Kind of cute.”
“Well, I had a dream with this magician guy, and he told me about the money in this banana stand, too. And then he said something about making a huge mistake.” Tee grinned, cracking her gum. “I guess he didn’t mean to tell me. But he did, and now I’m going to ROB IT, bit-ches!” She punched her fist into the air and laughed triumphantly. “You want to help?”
“Okay,” Harper agreed. She was staring, half-hypnotized, at the glints of gold off Tee’s big hoop earrings, which swung every time Tee moved her head.
A few minutes later, Tee was trying to jimmy the lock with a hairpin when a man in a suit on a bicycle pulled up.
“Hey!” he shouted, jumping off the bike. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Tee dropped the hairpin, grabbed Harper’s arm, and started to run. Harper ran with her, sandals slapping against the pavement.
“There’s always money in the banana stand!” Tee shouted over her shoulder.
“That’s not even true anymore!” he yelled back.
“Whatever, man!” Tee screamed. “Text me when you’re reading to fuck!”
The man had been pretty cute, Harper had to admit. Still…
A couple minutes later they realized he wasn’t chasing them and slowed to a walk, panting. Still on the boardwalk, they walked by a tattoo parlor and Tee grabbed Harper’s arm again. “Oh, let’s get ink! I want a skull with a rose in its mouth, right on my arm. Bad-ASS! YOW!”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Harper said hesitantly. “I’ve never…I mean, doesn’t it hurt?”
“That’s half the fun, bitch!” Tee cried. “Come on. Everyone knows what tattoo they’d get. What do you want?”
“Well…I could get a picture of that hole that used to be in the ozone layer. Or…snow, maybe. I like snow. It’s clean.”
“A snowflake! Right on the small of your back. TRAMP STAMP! It’ll be gorgeous.” Harper allowed Tee to drag her into the tattoo parlor. Well, she had wanted an adventure…
A/N: “Text me when you’re ready to fuck” is an Amanda Palmer reference. I know it pretty much made no sense, but it sounded like something Tee would say.
Author:
ellerkay (previously published under collectively)Challenger:
bdan32Challenge: I combined two for this one – Tee and Harper "There's always money in the banana stand!" and Harper and Andy "lets forget the six feet and concentrate on the nine inches"
Fandoms: The United States of Tara, Angels in America, Weeds, Arrested Development
Rating: PG-13ish. Mild drug use, attempted robbery. Some swearing.
Word count: 1,132
Summary: They do say that there’s always money in the banana stand. Sort-of a sequel to Big Yellow Joint. Crackity crack crack crack.
Harper was dreaming.
Well, she was pretty sure she was dreaming. She used to get confused about what was a dream and what was a hallucination brought on by fever or too many pills.
But she didn’t take the pills anymore, and she didn’t think she was sick. That left dreaming. And the figure on the couch was familiar.
“Do I…know you?” she asked.
He began coughing, choking on the smoke he was inhaling from what looked like a hand-rolled cigarette. He glanced around at the Grecian décor and the shaft of light coming in from the hole in the ceiling. “Holy shit, this stuff is strong!” he said, staring the cigarette. His voice was thick with smoke. He looked up at the hole in the ceiling again, which was probably at least thirty feet above their heads. “How high do you think this ceiling is? Like six feet nine? I think I could climb up through there.” He stared intently upwards. “My dad always used to say to break down a problem into little, manageable chunks. So let’s forget about the six feet and concentrate on the nine inches.” Finally, he glanced up at Harper. “Oh, hey, Nance, when did you get home?”
“I’m not. Home,” Harper replied. “I’m dreaming. You’re in my dream. And I’m not…‘Nance.’”
“Oh, come on, Nancy,” the man scoffed. Harper frowned, wondering if she should be alarmed. The man was watching her, looking puzzled.
“Wow, you’re…really not Nancy, are you?” he said, examining her closely. “I guess you do look a…little bit different.” He shook his head. “I must have fallen asleep smoking. Weird. Well, hello, not-Nancy.” He rose and extended his hand. “I’m Andy Botwin.”
She took his hand hesitantly and shook it fast, letting go as quickly as possible. “Harper. Is my name. But I think we’ve met before. Um…a few years ago. Back when I took too many pills.”
Andy shook his head. “No, I’m pretty sure I’d remember,” he said. “You look almost exactly like my sister-in-law.”
“Well, then, I met someone who looked almost exactly like you!” she said. “He wore makeup, and he was…sick. But not all of him. I tried to tell him.”
“Did you?” Andy asked absently. He looked like he was thinking hard. He shook himself. “I feel like there was something I was going to tell you – oh!” He snapped his fingers. “Right. I remember it now. There’s always money in the banana stand.” He made a tch-tch sound with his tongue.
And, because it was a dream, Harper suddenly knew exactly where he meant. It was on the boardwalk, and she could even picture it. It resembled the little cigarette Andy was smoking, only it was big. And yellow.
***
Harper woke up suddenly, her eyes snapping open. She was in her hotel room in Orange County. The air conditioner hummed softly.
After a shower and some toast and orange juice, Harper stopped at the front desk and asked how to get to the boardwalk. It was in walking distance, and she left immediately.
It was past noon – she had slept for a long time. The sun was hot overhead, but there was a cool breeze from the ocean and in no time at all, Harper could see the yellow of the banana stand in the distance.
As she approached it, she saw a girl in a tank-top and tight shorts climbing on the ledge, examining the closed shutter. When she stretched up, the straps of her thong were revealed, and she reached behind her back to tug up the shorts.
“Hello?” Harper said uncertainly, and the girl spun around, hopped off the ledge, and leaned casually against the banana stand, all in one lightning-fast move. Now that Harper could see her face, she realized that she must actually be over forty, though somehow she seemed much younger.
“You a cop?” the girl (Harper couldn’t help but think of her that way) asked.
“No. I’m Harper.”
“Oh.” She relaxed. “I’m Tee. What up, slut?” She turned around again and started prodding at the lock on the shutter.
“Um. Well, I had this dream last night, and this guy told me I could find some money here – ” Tee spun quickly, looking intently at her. “I don’t really need money, but…I don’t know. I wanted to come. I felt like I should. I can’t believe it’s real.
Tee’s mouth was hanging open. Harper could actually see the pink of her bubble gum, partly hidden under her tongue. “No fuckin’ way!” she said. “What did this guy look like? Early forties, balding, kinda sleazy?”
“No…”
“Did he try and do some really lame magic tricks? And then call them illusions?”
Harper shook her head. “No, he was younger. Maybe mid-thirties. Not balding. Kind of cute.”
“Well, I had a dream with this magician guy, and he told me about the money in this banana stand, too. And then he said something about making a huge mistake.” Tee grinned, cracking her gum. “I guess he didn’t mean to tell me. But he did, and now I’m going to ROB IT, bit-ches!” She punched her fist into the air and laughed triumphantly. “You want to help?”
“Okay,” Harper agreed. She was staring, half-hypnotized, at the glints of gold off Tee’s big hoop earrings, which swung every time Tee moved her head.
A few minutes later, Tee was trying to jimmy the lock with a hairpin when a man in a suit on a bicycle pulled up.
“Hey!” he shouted, jumping off the bike. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Tee dropped the hairpin, grabbed Harper’s arm, and started to run. Harper ran with her, sandals slapping against the pavement.
“There’s always money in the banana stand!” Tee shouted over her shoulder.
“That’s not even true anymore!” he yelled back.
“Whatever, man!” Tee screamed. “Text me when you’re reading to fuck!”
The man had been pretty cute, Harper had to admit. Still…
A couple minutes later they realized he wasn’t chasing them and slowed to a walk, panting. Still on the boardwalk, they walked by a tattoo parlor and Tee grabbed Harper’s arm again. “Oh, let’s get ink! I want a skull with a rose in its mouth, right on my arm. Bad-ASS! YOW!”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Harper said hesitantly. “I’ve never…I mean, doesn’t it hurt?”
“That’s half the fun, bitch!” Tee cried. “Come on. Everyone knows what tattoo they’d get. What do you want?”
“Well…I could get a picture of that hole that used to be in the ozone layer. Or…snow, maybe. I like snow. It’s clean.”
“A snowflake! Right on the small of your back. TRAMP STAMP! It’ll be gorgeous.” Harper allowed Tee to drag her into the tattoo parlor. Well, she had wanted an adventure…
A/N: “Text me when you’re ready to fuck” is an Amanda Palmer reference. I know it pretty much made no sense, but it sounded like something Tee would say.
