Misty, you Theo'd, and came back to life; and shortly after I read your oneshot, I remembered an IM conversation we once had. So, this is pretty much your fault :P
Hostile glares were being thrown from one direction to the other, ricocheting off the walls, and radiating up from the concreted ground.
"Tell me you didn't just say that," Ken Anderson, who'd recently let the peroxide grow out of his hair, spoke lowly while pinching the bridge of his nose in between his index finger and thumb.
The woman across from him, Misty, observed this and rolled her eyes. "What's wrong, Ken? Is the lack of peroxide in your brain making you malfunction?"
"You take that back!" He cried out.
"Just as soon as you get yourself off the injured list," she replied in the same whiny voice that he'd used.
His green eyes snapped over in her direction. "Stop saying that!"
"Why the hell should I?! What's your last injury, Ken, a paper cut?"
"'Paper cut' is not a politically correct term, Misty. I believe the correct term is a laceration of the skin by an everyday object."
"When you try to sound smart," Misty started. "You usually look like an ass. Well, a bigger ass than usual."
It was silent for a minute. No words were exchanged, and Ken chewed on his bottom lip in thought. "Yeah well, since we're talking about asses, you've got cottage cheese thighs!"
Misty blinked in astonishment. Oh, he went there. "Oh yeah well, you've got a dinosaur head!"
Ken looked as if he'd been stricken with lightening. A really big bolt of lightening. "Yeah well I hope you drown in a vat of mayonnaise! Oh just think, Misty. The calories. The horror!"
Misty stared at him with an evil glint in her eyes. She looked down at the bag of croutons she was currently holding and back up at him. "I'll do it."
"You wouldn't." Ken's eyes widened.
The woman now had a smirk on her face. "Oh, I would."
Ready, aim, fi—
"Do it and Randy'll be calling your phone nonstop for the next year! I can always loan you out, ya know," Ken rushed out.
Her arms flopped to her sides, and she looked to look as if she was about to cry. Satisfied with the damage, Ken smirked and turned around, ready to walk out of the room.
"Hey Ken?" Misty's voice, which had turned soft, called out.
He turned around, and suddenly he flung his hand over his eye protectively in pain.
"Fuck, my eye!"
Misty laughed and popped another crouton into her mouth. "That's what you get."
I'm not sure what this was, lol.
Again Misty, all your fault. Lol.