Is That What They're Calling It These Days?
Summary: Bella finally takes a moment to correct Jake's specist slurs and replaces them with some politically correct alternatives.
Disclaimer:Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer and co. I just abuse her characters and make them do hilarious things…
A/N: This is a parody of Jake's "choose me" convo in Eclipse, so if you lack a keen sense of snark, wit, or humor, this may not be the fic for you. M for some language and crass humor.
"God, Bella, he's dead…think about it!"
Bella sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you, Jake? Edward's not dead, he's mortally challenged."
"Dead is dead, Bella."
She sniffed. "I prefer living impaired…" Bella huffed in that why do I even bother giving you the time of day because you SO don't get it kind of way."You know what, Jake? You're a specist."
"A specist? Is that even a word?"
"Well, dumbass, it is now. It means that you are prejudiced against species other than your own."
"I don't know why I even put up with you. Are you guys running some kind of wolf supremacy camp here? I'm telling you now, I'm not going to drink the kool-aid!"
"It's better than what he drinks!"
"Jeez, Jake, you're such a hypocrite. Nobody gives you a hard time because drinking milk makes you fart like—"
"Well, God, Jacob… Edward's H2O intolerant. Like, get over it already. I have."
Jake's face was flushed bright red and he looked down at the ground mumbling, "I can't believe you went there…"
"Right back atcha, wolfboy."
Jacob turned to glare at Bella. Surely there had to be some way to convince her that he was the better choice. It wasn't like any other woman on the planet would turn down a cozy one bedroom addition to his father's house, a Rabbit whose valves rattled like an old codger's teeth in a snowstorm, and his bagillion ab muscles. Just thinking about it made Jake run his hand down his shirtless torso.
As he stroked each defined ridge, he thought, Yeah, there it is, baby. I so know you want to look, Bella. I know I'm hot!
Jake stroked his hand over his abs against, moving down to finger the waistband of his jeans. Oh Bella…Ooo, yeah, right there, babe…
"Jake? What are you doing?"
Jacob came to his right mind to find that he was rubbing his chest and abdomen like he was starring in a bodywash commercial. He groaned softly. Damn Axe Effect…
He decided that he needed to distract her quick. Perhaps bringing up her environmental sensibilities would help convince her that Edward was the worst possible choice on the planet for a boyfriend. After all, she didn't wear organic, free-trade flannel or starve herself into veganish thinness because it was the hip thing to do. It was time to roll out the Bambi Factor…
"So he's like what? Decimating the local wildlife to keep from devouring you?"
"Well…yeah, I guess." Then she shrugged.
"They like big game, right? Carnivores?"
"So what about the environmental impact of his hunting, huh?"
"Love does have its sacrifices…" Bella sniffed. "So, he's environmentally unconscious. It's better than the alternative! Besides, he can't be that perfect."
Jake winced as his brilliant strategy took a nosedive. He crashes. He burns!
Cue Plan B aka But he's like so unnatural!
"Perfect? Bella, he's a monster. He's not even human, for chrissake!"
"It's not Edward's fault that his humanity is on permanent vacation."
"His humanity is on permanent vacation?" Jake laughed loudly. "More like it's taking a dirt nap…" he paused and then grinned. "It's pushing up the daisies, has gone swimming with concrete loafers. It's kicked the bucket, bought the farm…uh…"
"Is picking turnips with a stepladder?" Bella supplied wryly.
"Has bought a pine condo?" Jake countered.
"Is taking a grand tour of the inside of a shark?"
"Has fallen and it can't get up?"
Bella snorted, catching the double entendre. "Hardly!"
Jake grimaced. "TMI, Bella. TMI…" He sighed. "You sure have become politically correct since you've started hanging out with those bloodsuckers, Bella."
"Someone has to be socially sensitive around here," she began reproachfully, "and, by the way, I prefer the term exsanguination expert to bloodsucker, Jacob."
"You're insane, Bells. You know that, right?"
"I'm not insane, I'm just selectively perceptive."
"Willfully ignorant, more like," Jake grumbled.
It was time for a switch in tactics. If she was so blinded to Edward's environmental unfriendliness, perhaps he could use the pervy old man argument to convince her…
"They don't die, right? So like how much older is your leech than you are, Bella? One century? Five? More?"
"So we're chronologically misaligned… What has that got to do with anything?"
"That's not an answer, Bella. C'mon, how much older?"
Jake made motions like he was gagging. "Gro-OSS! What's next, Bells? Cock-diving at the local nursing home? I hear that Jell-O Tuesdays at the Geezer Inn are the shiznit!"
Her mouth fell open. "God, Jake, could you be anymore—?"
"I don't get it, Bella. Why him…when you could have me?"
"I'm genetically discriminating?"
He lifted a brow to express his incredulousness. "What genetics? His genetics took the magical mystery tour the moment he entered the Everlasting Stone Age."
Jake grinned as a slight mist of steam rose from his 108 degree body in response to the surrounding coolness. A degree of hotness that matched each year of Edward's old decrepit-ness. Oh, wait…he's 104? 110? Jake frowned as he tried to recalculate Edward's age, then he shrugged. Who cares! It wasn't like math was Jake's subject…
Anyhoo, back to Bella… There was no choice really. Surely Bella must see this.
"Come on, Bells, you know that I'm just right for you…"
"No matter how right you are, Jake, Edward has been waiting for me all these years…"
"Really, he has!" Bella insisted.
"Sounds like he's dickless to me."
"He's not dickless; he's a gentleman."
"Is that what they're calling it these days?"
"Besides, he's socially maladapted by necessity."
"In other words he's an asshole. Thanks for clearing that up for me, Bells. I never would have figured that out on my own."
"Edward's not an asshole," Bella protested insistently. "He's—"
"No…" she replied, drawing the word out and glaring at him.
"An undead douchebag?"
"Mortally unencumbered, socially misunderstood individual…" she corrected.
"Ah, yes. What was it again? Ah, that's right, a socially misaligned, gentlemanly misunderstood, H2O intolerant, mortally challenged exsanguination expert…"
"Hey, your words, not mine.
"You're such a jackass sometimes."
"Don't you mean an equinaeciously empathetic earthling?"
"Whatever," she muttered as she walked away.
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you are so inclined, please leave a review and let me know what you thought.