vee[run for it, boys!] (evillunch) wrote in allthemarmalade,
vee[run for it, boys!]

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o lawd

A Crossover Pairing That Should Not Exist
[childish crayon font] by vee and molly [/ccf]
Triumph the Insult Comic Dog and Brian.

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Evil Lunch: He grinned slightly, a satified smile.. pinkish tongue licking over an uncouth jaw, one paw reaching up to scratch idly at his ear. "That's why Benji's queer. The reasons. I gave you several. Do you still disagree?" One brow rose as did his voice, on that last syllable. That voice.. Sleazy and rough, at the mercy of a wit that was lightning-quick with an insult or a filthy tune. The other paw brought his cigar to his jaws and he sucked in a breath before hissing out thick plumes of smoke in his companion's direction. "Come oooon, Brian, we all are, to some extent. Eheheh.. I dabble, you know that.. And you can't tell me that you..."~
Nice Guy Molly: "I...I don't know about that, Triumph..." The white dog rumbled, scratching the back of his head in suit. "I mean, sure, when you're famous, or even to some degree, I suppose it doesn't matter, a hole's a hole right?" The dog intoned with an arched brow, eyeing the dark dog before taking a sip from his half-way-down martini. "And yes, I did know that about Benji, I do think he's a bit of a whore though.." He trailed, draining the rest of his drink with a cringe at that thought.~
Evil Lunch: A low laugh shook him and he leaned againt the bar, the golden bowtie at his throat crinking up slightly with the motion. "Hahaaa, see, you know." Another puff. "You know. A hole is most definitely a hole, yes. And uh, you would know all about that.. " He drooled over his cigar, leaning nearer, throaty voice going all confidential. "You're the one who's been getting his kicks with an infant..."~
Nice Guy Molly: Dark eyes widening, the white dog paled, if that was even possible, his nostrils flaring. Hell, if he had any of that drink in his mouth, he would have fucking spit. "...How the HELL do you know about that!" He almost hissed, setting the glass down. There's no way... anyone could know about that...! "And what have you been doing, getting your kicks on La Bamba's calf?" He attempted to counter, but failed, as he was still faultering from that... How.. in fuck..~
Evil Lunch: "I have my sources... And don't you insult La Bamba. The man is a saint. A regular paragon of good taste, and he has excellent fashion sense." Triumph raised his paw to extrude the cigar from his mouth, reached into a nonexistant pocket and pulled out a breath freshener, which he sprayed into his mouth before putting it away once more. He cleared his throat, cracked his shoulders and sniffed.
"FOR ME TO POOP ON. Seriously Brian, what the hell? LaBamba, he is too busy having three ways with Toshi and Joel for his leg to even be available! Now, I'm not mocking you. You know, for once. I've schtupped my share of schnausers, I know how it is to be desperate. But a baby?" Triumph shook his head, more amused than anything. "He must be dynamite for you to keep crawling back.."~
Nice Guy Molly: The dog clicked his tongue, eyeing the other before another martini was delivered to the table,which he down in one fail swoop. "That kid..." He smirked a bit, eyes sparkling from the initial glazing over from inebriation. "You can't even imagine, He's more screwed up in the head than you are..." The white dog managed to rumble, tapping his glass down for another refill. "You can't even imagine!" He drunkenly balked, looking mischevious and silly at the same time~
Evil Lunch: Triumph regarded the other dog with an amused expression, holding his cigar to one side between two clawed digits, the other clutching where a chin might be on a dog.. If they had such things. "Ohhh, is he?" He egged Brian on, tongue hanging out just a big, little teeth glinting. "I'd love to hear all about it.." But he was only being about half-sarcastic. This oughta be rich.. This dog hit the sauce harder than a fat kid at an italian restaurant..~
Nice Guy Molly: "I..." The dog hiccupped, eyes glazing at the next drink set down before he swirled the olive around in the glass to his amusement.. "I dunno... It's.. y'know.." And again, if a dog could flush... It was a bit apparent that he had a bit more than just getting off in mind when it came to the kid, but Brian's head lolled back. "I like to lick." Came his low murmur.~
Evil Lunch: One tan-furred paw reached over to pat reassuringly at his knee, and the sympathy in those shrewd little eyes.. The compassion that could barely be heard under the heavy Yugoslavian accent.. It all betrayed a sort of understanding that was entirely seperate from the derision he piled so mercilessly upon the furry drunkard. "Don't we all, Brian.." ~
Nice Guy Molly: The aformention tilted his head towards the other, and nodded his head shortly. "It's like... it's like... you know when you just find that thing that fits.. so perfectly?" He tried to intone. "Like, not even a leg, or a really nice couch cushion.. You.. ha! You of all people know what I mean.." The murmured with just a touch of a slur. "Mmm... yep. Like to lick, we allllllllll like to lick." He said with a grand sweep of both white paws, knocking over his beloved drink.
Evil Lunch: "Don't hurt yourself, there, tipsy.." The hoarse old dog reached to pick up the glass and set it on its base. "Yeesh, you're dumping more liquid than I did last time I took a leak in Weinberg's sock drawer..Look." Triumph cleared his throat and eased off of his barstool, comping down on the cigar so that he could use both hands to tug Brian down from his now-dangerous perch. "Come on, come on. Let's get out of here.."~

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