It's More Than Nature

Fuck it.

Have you ever hated your job so much you just wanted to kill someone? If you have you've got my life in a nutshell. I'm a messenger and it fucks. Like a lot. They technically don't call me a Killjoy either because I work for both BL/ind and the gang.

So back to the future.

I skidded down the dusty road, clouds of dust glowing red in the sunset. A sigh. I was almost home for the night, and when I was I would have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.

As the DIEner loomed up in my face I leaned back a bit and stopped abruptly, almost crashing though the door. Dr Death gave me a look. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded. I shrugged. "Everywhere and nowhere all at--" My sarcastic remark was cut off by the sound of an engine pulling up behind me. I jumped, skidded, and turned to see who it was.

"Geez, Show, don't get your panties in a twist," joked Party Poison as he shoved past me. I glowered at him. "I'm not!" I complained, putting my hands on my hips and backing up. He smirked. "So you are wearing panties? What?"

"Oh my God, you idiot." My voice was laced with resignation. "Just fuckoff and lemme go to bed."

Poison shook his head. "I'm never gana let that one go, Show."

"Well I would say 'look here's my proof' but I'm not keen on you staring at my crotch," I countered. He rolled his eyes. "Whatever."