Daily Prompt, 12/07/08: Puerile
Jul. 12th, 2008 11:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
charameiThree hours after the fact, Samuelson was still yelling about it, filling their dingy little office with noise and making it impossible to get any work done.
"Of all the juvenile, underhanded, low-down tricks to play on a man!" he ranted, as Agatha tried her very hardest to look as though she was still paying him attention, "I mean, why? Why? It's like – like Hallowe'en! In May! What am I supposed to do about this, eh?"
Agatha, sensing that input was required from her, examined his ruined jacket critically. The egg had splattered quite dramatically, leaving barely a surface untouched, and the cauliflower in the pocket was a nice touch. She didn't think he'd even noticed it yet.
"You could take it to the dry-cleaners?"
"Not the jacket!" Samuelson howled, flapping his hands ineffectually. "The situation! With that lying, childish... child-man of a brother of mine! What am I supposed to do?"
Ahh, it was one of those questions. Agatha sat back in her swivel chair, listening to the squeak and creak of the old leather. It was comforting. So, Samuelson didn't want advice, he wanted confirmation.
He would probably carry on until he got it, too, she thought, resigned. "Well, I suppose you could... prank him back?"
"Prank him back?" Samuelson howled. "Do you really think I'm as puerile as he is? As if I would ever -"
Agatha rolled her eyes, and pulled the next file towards her. "There's silly string in your top drawer. Do try not to get caught, won't you?"
Samuelson scowled, and marched out of the office. The door slammed behind him.
/\/\/\
"Of all the juvenile, underhanded, low-down tricks to play on a man!" he ranted, as Agatha tried her very hardest to look as though she was still paying him attention, "I mean, why? Why? It's like – like Hallowe'en! In May! What am I supposed to do about this, eh?"
Agatha, sensing that input was required from her, examined his ruined jacket critically. The egg had splattered quite dramatically, leaving barely a surface untouched, and the cauliflower in the pocket was a nice touch. She didn't think he'd even noticed it yet.
"You could take it to the dry-cleaners?"
"Not the jacket!" Samuelson howled, flapping his hands ineffectually. "The situation! With that lying, childish... child-man of a brother of mine! What am I supposed to do?"
Ahh, it was one of those questions. Agatha sat back in her swivel chair, listening to the squeak and creak of the old leather. It was comforting. So, Samuelson didn't want advice, he wanted confirmation.
He would probably carry on until he got it, too, she thought, resigned. "Well, I suppose you could... prank him back?"
"Prank him back?" Samuelson howled. "Do you really think I'm as puerile as he is? As if I would ever -"
Agatha rolled her eyes, and pulled the next file towards her. "There's silly string in your top drawer. Do try not to get caught, won't you?"
Samuelson scowled, and marched out of the office. The door slammed behind him.