Author: Kat Lee formerly Pirate Turner PM
Becker's ready for a trade. Slight crossover with Labyrinth.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor - J. Becker & Linda - Words: 404 - Published: 01-07-09 - Status: Complete - id: 4778071
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: "Becker's Tweedles"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG for language
Summary: Becker's ready for a trade.
Warnings: Slight Unusual Crossover, Uncommon Language, and Warped Humor
Disclaimer: All characters, locations, shows, and movies mentioned within are © & TM their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author, Pirate Turner. I make absolutely no profit whatsoever off of this story.
Becker growled as his small office was invaded for the dozenth time early that morning. "What is it this time?" he demanded, glaring up at Linda from his paperwork.
"Gas," the young woman stated, blinking her eyes, "is horrible."
Becker stared at her incredulously for a moment before exploding, "WHY IN THE HELL WOULD YOU COME IN HERE TO TELL ME THAT?!"
"Because I'm not going back in there," Linda replied, flouncing down into the first, and only, available chair. "Margaret - "
"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN IF MARGARET ATE ALL THE BEANS IN MEXICO! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE!"
"But it smells really, really - "
"I DON'T CARE IF IT SMELLS LIKE THE BOG OF ETERNAL STENCH! GET OUT! NOW! BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT!"
Linda scurried out the door like a scared mouse, but once safe in the hall, she stopped, confusion creasing her brow. Going slowly back into the lobby, she asked, from around the two fingers that pinched her nose closed, "Margaret, what's the Bog of Eternal Stench?"
"That's Becker when he's suffering with msg," Margaret replied without thinking. Then she looked sharply up at Linda, forgetting her slip of the tongue. "Linda," the bustling head nurse commanded, "get your fingers off of your nose, stop coming up with ridiculous notions -- as if that's even possible for you --, and get to work!"
"Hey, just because you've got IBS on Monday morning doesn't mean you've got to take it out on me!"
As the nurses squabbled, Becker, left alone in his office at last, leaned back and raised his eyes heavenward. "Why do we get stuck with all the idiots, Jareth? You've got Goblins driving you crazy, and I'm stuck with Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Twat out there! Damn, I need a smoke!" Lighting a cig, he started puffing away but still couldn't help but to wonder what it would be like to trade out just for one night.