To any readers who wander by…this is a strange story. I myself am not quite sure what to make of it…
Hi there. Let me introduce myself. I'm Tony DiNozzo's penis. He calls me lots of things but surprisingly has no special name for me like Gonad and the Barbarians or Swizzle Stick or any of the hundreds of other things guys like to nickname their parts. Now his lady friends sometimes have pet names for me but those never last, like the ladies never last.
I call myself Dick. We all call ourselves Dick. Let me see if I can make you understand. Remember on the old Star Trek: The Next Generation series the character named Q? And how he came from the Q Continuum and how every living being in the Q Continuum was named Q? Well, welcome to my world. I live in the Dick Continuum and we're all Dicks. Every single one of us.
But what I want to talk about today is DiNozzo. He's driving me absolutely crazy lately. I mean we've had a long and illustrious career together, right? We're legend right? Yet, now he sits on his couch every night watching old movies on DVD - alone. That is so not the DiNozzo I know. His life the past year or so has been sucky, I'll admit. The whole Jeanne thing, fun while it lasted but for shit when it went south. She was a sweet girl but not worth all the pain. And then the bitch accuses him of murder! Whoa there - so much worse than posting his name on the national herpes website.
Yeah, yeah, I know. He brought it on himself. Jeanne didn't deserve to have her heart broken but he broke his heart along the way too so I kind of feel it evened out. Plus he didn't accuse her of murder. I gotta say she was good in bed but kind of, I don't know, boring after a while. Doesn't matter now but I knew she was all wrong for him from the start. He should learn to listen to follow my instincts.
To tell you the truth I've wanted to go in another direction for a few years now but he won't, the stubborn jackass. He used to follow me, you know: where I went he went, or wanted to anyway. Now, I swear sometimes I'd Gibbs slap him myself if I had hands. The boy ain't real smart sometimes especially regarding one particular woman.
If he knew what was good for him he'd pay attention to that honey-skinned Ninja woman. She's like one of those multilayered Middle Eastern sweets whose taste stays with you for hours afterwards. You just want her to melt in your mouth. The one that's had my attention since the first day we met her. Oh, she's a dangerous one is our Miss David. So dangerous…maybe that's why he won't take what she's offered time and again, subtly and then not so subtle, too. I don't mean just her body either, luscious as that is. If the boy finally wants a friggin' "relationship" why not someone whose his equal in every way? I just do NOT understand him. DiNozzo's a total dumb ass when it comes to Ziva.
Crap, even Probie McGee knows it. He's written all about it in his damned book, which DiNozzo's read 4 times I might add. The pages where "Agent Tommy" and "Officer Lisa" start thinking about each other fall open all by themselves now. Why read about it when the real thing sits right across the way from you every day on her cute little ass? I can't figure him out.
And it's not like if I try to pay attention to another woman he cooperates. Oh yeah, he might talk a good fight still but there's no connect between his brain and me so I just lay there, limp as the proverbial noodle. If I start paying attention to Ziva he starts doing multiplication tables in his head. He's trying to memorize the 13s now! When she gets close the signals still try to reach me and I start trying to do my thing and he deliberately says something to piss her off so she'll leave. WHY??
And don't get me started on the way he treats me at night. You'd think he'd at least buy some lotion, I'm getting sore. He hasn't been this way since he was a young teen. Always doing the deed with visions of Ziva in his head: Ziva laying across the hood of the Ferrari that Magnum drove; Ziva bent over his desk; Ziva turning in his arms and putting her legs around his waist; Ziva naked and sweaty standing over a pile of dead dirt bags and pointing her gun at him, telling him to kneel and service her. Gotta admit I really liked that last one. But not one move does he make in her direction.
If I could only talk next time she sat on the edge of his desk I'd scream for her help. I think she'd help me, help us. I can tell she likes us, well him. A lot. Maybe a whole lot. But he won't ever find out. He won't grow a set and find out. Well, actually we do have a nice set but he won't pick 'em up and use 'em. I am mortified. He has never acted like this before. I need help. Too bad they don't have Dick shrinks. No wait. That sounds bad doesn't it? Let me rephrase.
Hey, where you going? Aren't you going to help us, me? Tell Ziva to attack us or something. Tell Probie to write a big sex scene between Tommy and Lisa in his next book. Anything. Push her in his lap. At least then I could have a moment! Help me!