By The Chronicler
…….chronicler of the Banzai Institute, the Hong Kong Cavaliers, and all other amazing characters to pass his way…..
….. had writer's block.
"And what a hell of a time to have it too." he growled at himself. He leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his black hair.
It wasn't as if the Cavaliers had been quiet the last few months. There was that whole mess at the Fair with teddy bear heads flying this way and that; the archeological dig that dug up dragon bones AND the mad scientist that tried to clone a real live, fire breathing dragon; Perfect Tommy got kidnapped… again! (they were gonna have to get a leash for that boy); won't even talk about Knuckles; oh and cool and collected, always in control Rawhide punching Mickey Mouse in the nose when the giant, alcoholic mouse got a little too friendly with TommyBoy; Tommy Boy kicking the hell out of said drunk mouse while explaining to Rawhide in no uncertain terms that she could take care of herself; Rawhide and Tommy Boy having to drag Minnie Mouse off of Mickey before she killed him in front of several children, families, and camera clicking Japanese tourist.
They probably won't be getting another gig at Disney Land for awhile.
But, then again, dude playing Mickey probably won't be back either.
The whole last half of the year had been adventure after adventure after explosion after what the hell was that?!
And, despite all that, here he sat, master of the English language, magician of the written word, unable to think of a single thing to write.
Pecos came up behind him and, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, proceeded to nibble on his ear.
Reno closed his eyes and let out a long, tired sigh. "I'm late for our date, aren't I?"
Pecos chuckled against his ear. "Baby, our date was, literally, last year."
Reno frowned. He glanced at the clock on the bottom of his screen.
"Ah, crap." he groaned, closing his eyes again. "Pecos, I'm sorry. No excuse. I'm an idiot." He shook his head angrily. "Stupid, wordless idiot."
Pecos straightened up and smacked him on the back of the head.
"Ow!" Reno cried. He looked up at her, shocked despite missing their New Year's date. "What was that for?!"
Hands on hips, head swaying dangerously, looking very much like that rough and tough, S.F. gang punk she was as a kid, Pecos let him know "You insult my man, you insult me."
The writer smiled slightly. "Fine. I'm one hot, smoking babe with a great rack."
Pecos smiled right back. "You got a pretty fine ass too." As if he had forgotten, she turned and started to walk away, giving each step an extra bounce.
Reno quickly spun his chair around, grabbed her back belt loop, and pulled her back into his lap.
Something between a squeal and a giggle escaped her as she pretended to put up a fight.
But Reno wrapped his arms around her and held her close until she finally collapsed, surrendering. He let her twist about until she could wrap her arms around his neck and give him a good, long kiss.
When she pulled away just enough to see his eyes, she whispered "Happy New Year, love."
Reno gave her that soft, loving smile he saved just for her. "Happy New Year, baby." he whispered right back.
"So." She leaned back against his chest, snuggling in. "Just what the hell was so important you missed a date with this great rack and fine ass?"
Reno groaned. "You know the big, great, long waited, ordered months in advance Buckaroo Banzai New Year's Issue?"
Pecos held up her hand. "Ordered mine months in advance." she admitted, with a wink. "I have an in with the writer."
"I haven't finished writing it yet."
The girl pulled away and looked up at him. "I thought it was supposed to be at the press last week, mailing out this week."
"Thus the dilemma." Again he groaned, closing his eyes and dropping his head back on the head rest. "Damn, Pecos, I've never been jammed up like this before."
Pecos rubbed his chest, lovingly. "The dreaded Writer's Block." she added her own groan with sympathy. "That's why you've been locked up in here for days upon days upon days…"
"Maybe that's the problem."
"What's the problem?"
Pecos tugged on his nose until he raised his head and looked at her. "You've been locked up in here for days upon days upon days, missing out on all the life going on out there…. You know? With the people you're supposed to be writing about?"
Reno waved a hand at his desk and the thousands of hand scribbled notes scattered about it. "Not like I'm lacking in material."
"Material isn't the same as inspiration. Material is just the meat. Inspiration is how you cook it." She waved a hand in the air. "Inspiration… inspiration is like puffing away on that brass horn of yours like the world would die without your sweet tunes. Like watching Buckaroo and Peggy spinning on the dance floor. Like Rawhide taking off his hat to kiss Norse. Like… like Perfect Tommy's new dye job. Have you seen it yet? My god, I didn't think that shade of yellow was available without brain damage!"
Reno tilted his head to one side. "Well, that could explain a few things 'bout that boy."
Pecos slid off his lap and grabbed his hand. "Come on, bubba. Time to release the hounds, breath some fresh air, party 'til the cows come home… all that good stuff. And, come sunrise, bet yours and my great racks and fine asses, you'll be ready to sit down and finish the issue."
"Or pass out drunk and wake up with a hang over that'll kill those cows and hounds." Reno pointed out as she dragged him out his little office and down the hall.
Pecos laughed. "Well, hell, even that would be inspiration."
Reno grabbed her belt loop and yanked her back into his arms again. "I can think of a better way to get inspired." he hummed into her ear.
The love of his life huffed. "Really?!"
"Carry you off into our bedroom and find inspiration right to dawn." he whispered, his lips brushing the base of her throat.
"Hmmm?" She closed her eyes and leaned back against him. She whispered in her most seductive tone "I am going to get my New Year's dance or I will inspire you in ways that will make your readers cry to the heavens what could have possibly happened to this sweet soul that he turns to such fear, horror, and hatred."
Reno lifted his head. "O… kay…" he spoke very carefully. "My dear lady, would you care to save my life and join me for a dance?"
"Why, sir, I would be honored."
Pecos folded up the issue and smacked Reno in the arm.
"Ow!" Reno cried, looking shocked, despite. "What was that for?!"
"Really?" She tilted her head, batted her lashes, and coed in her best Southern Bell imitation "Why, suh, ah would be honored…" Again she hit him. "I remember something more like `Bet your fine Latin ass!'"
Reno chuckled. "Yea, well… I was inspired."