Title: The Anti-Plural
Summary: In which pointless discussions revolve loosely around plurals and their inverses.
Authors: Ella-the-crash-test-dummy and candlewick866
Disclaimer: If I owned them, would I really be wasting my time on writing about them on here?
Authors Note: Completely pointless. Also, in my opinion, this story is about ten times better if you could see the original hard copy of it. It has random little doodles in the corners and us making fun of each other and… its just better. I might end up archiving it eventually.
Chapter One: Tomatoes
In which no one can remember what's-his-face's name.
Lorelai walked into the diner with her face scrunched up in the way that meant she was contemplating something. Luke had her coffee poured almost before she sat down and so in lieu of something else to say, she voiced her dilemma."Luke, are tomatoes fruits or vegetables?"
"What?"
"Are to-ma-toes fru-its or veg-ie-ta-bles?" every syllable was carefully over-enunciated.
"How should I now that?"
"Luke, I'm surprised at you! Are you a foodie or not?"
"Foodie?"
"You work in a diner. Foodie-ness is just expected?"
"Foodie-ness?"
"I'm going now. You were no help."
"Whatever," he muttered. Then, just as she reached for the doorknob, he added, "Hey, why don't you ask what's-his-face?"
"What's-his-face?"
"Yeah… you know… um… the guy."
"Which one Luke? I'm sorry to break it two you, but there are a lot of those around here."
"You know… the produce guy. The one who married what'-her-face?"
"Whose face?"
"The one that cooks."
"Someone cooks with there face?"
"No. With their hands. You know, the one with kids?"
"The produce guy who cooks with his hands and is married to a lady who has a face and kids?"
"No. The produce guy who is married to the lady who cooks and they both have faces and kids."
"Oh," Lorelai said, nodding as though she finally understood. "What… what?"
"The guy! The one with the produce."
"Thank you Luke. You cleared that up wonderfully." Shaking her head in confusion, she walked out of the diner muttering intently.
Luke, annoyed that he could not remember those names, was thinking hard about the predicament.
"LUKE!" Babettes high voice interrupted, accompanied seconds later by a cry of pain from Kirk.
"Oops," Luke looked down at the cup of coffee between himself and Kirk. It had been filled way passed its limit and was overflowing onto the table, napkins, and, of course, Kirk.
"Sorry," Luke said, setting the pot of coffee down and reaching for the napkins as the phone began to ring.
"Luke's," he answered, using his shoulder to hold the phone to his year as he cleaned up the mess.
"Sookie and Jackson!" the voice on the other end of the line exclaimed.
"Thank you. That would have driven me insane."
"By Luke." She hung up the phone, completely appalled that he had managed to forget something so simple.
"Ask Jackson," she muttered to herself as she started towards Sookie's.
Halfway there she stopped. "Wait… what was the question?"
More coming soon. In the meantime...
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♥Ella