All I Need is You...part two(Read the comments, kay?)Grissom and the others were led into the castle by a rather recalcitrant old ogre wearing a yellow tunic that was too short for his own good ("Long story," he had growled when Grissom dared to comment.)After a while of tramping across the grounds of this mysterious castle, Nick had had enough of walking behind this fellow and being forced to look upon his hairy, much-too-exposed legs. So he ventured a faint, "Do you get a lot of babes with that get-up?""No," came the gruff reply."Do you-do you get mistaken for a prostitute?""No.""Do you realize how much you're disrespecting yourself and your fellow women by dressing in that manner?" Sara interjected."I'm not a woman.""…Just thought that I'd bring it to your attention."The ogre rolled his eyes. "Bloody feminists."Another hour or so of trudging through the feces-ridden lawn (no one cared to ask what sort of feces it was) brought them to the castle door. They were greeted by a crazy-looking old man with
All I Need is You...and Them(Read the description, kay?)Once upon a time in a little town called Las Vegas, there was the magical kingdom of Crime Lab.Or didn't you know that already?It had been a particularly taxing day for Gil Grissom, as he struggled with the perils of his job and his fractious existence, what with getting guns held to his head and those pervert writers all making him flirt with his coworkers. So when the package arrived at the crime lab, he was not overmuch pleased.Catherine grabbed the package from the UPS guy. She was in a bitchy mood also, because her ex-ex-ex-ex husband had taken out a thirty-fifth mortgage on their daughter. After grabbing the package, she kicked the man in the shin and went on a crazy feminist rant. Finally, breaking off, she screamed, "How u like dem apples?"Sara took over from there. As did Maddy.Thank you, Charlotte.Sara did not take over from there. The UPS guy ran away from her down the hall, and crashed into Nick. Nick was feeling pretty bitchy as well, due
EasyJim stands under the torn awning in front of a sleazy hotel, listening to the rain and the buzzing of a neon sign. He's wet and cold, and pissed as hell. He pulls his coat tighter around him and shivers, and growls at Tyler, who's late again.He looks up as a cab approaches. It stops by the curb, and lets a young man into the street."You're late, Tyler.""I know, I know," Tyler grumbles. He shuffles over to stand next to Jim, hunching his shoulders. "I had to wait twenty minutes for a cab. I'm soaked." He wrinkles his nose at the rain. "This sucks.""Shut up. I've been standing out here for a fucking hour waiting for you." Jim turns away. "Come on."Tyler stays where he is."I said, come on.""I don't want to do this.""Don't start with that.""Look…I just can't, okay? Why do I have to do it?""It isn't your job to question. It's your job to do what you're told. You know that. Now come on."Tyler stands motionless and stares at the ground."Don't make me stand out here all night.""Yo
CSII want to be a CSIIf I cannot, then I will cry.Whenever I see someone die,I will use my sharp, sharp eyeTo catch the man who tells a lie,And show everyone he's the bad guyIt will be hard, but I will try.Every question, he will deny.But those who, the law, do defyWill get what's coming, by and by.To do this job, you must be sly.To chase criminals, you have to be spry.(Greg is so totally screwing a guy.)I might even work with the FBI.They will be a good allyIf villains manage to slip by.If you want to find out whyI want to be a CSI,I will tell you, I'm not shy.And that is why I'm superfly,Enough to be a CSI.
The Italian Lesson8:00 PM. "I give up!" Ferris slammed his textbook down on Marco's kitchen table. "There's no way I can do this anymore. You're pathetic. I'm going home." He stood up and grabbed his coat. Marco jumped up on the other side of the table. "You can't go, I still don't get it. I'll fail." "Marco, your entire family speaks nothing but Italian. Every single person in your neighborhood speaks nothing but Italian. You watch fucking TV in Italian! If you've spent as much time as I think you have around this language, and still can't speak a word of it, then there are bigger problems here than I can deal with." "I can speak a little! I just need to go over the chapter again. Please? Just once?" Ferris growled and sat back down reluctantly. "Little bastard. Fine, one more time. But then I'm going to bed." Marco grinned and sat back down, reading from his textbook. "Anthony cameena al negoshio ee compra un proshuteo…" Ferris sighed and
Family Business Seamus Aston sits behind the main building of St. Basil's, not quite drunk yet but getting there. It's ten o'clock in the morning, but it's been a hard morning and he needs to kill the pounding headache he's had since he woke up. He finishes off his second can of cheap beer and tosses it away as he notices Demos trudging around the corner of the building towards him. He drops his bag next to Seamus, follows it down, leans back against the wall and closes his eyes. He looks dead. "Didn't see you in class this morning," Seamus comments, cracking open his first pack of cigarettes of the day. "Family business," Demos replies curtly. "Right." Seamus lights his cigarette, hands the pack to Demos and shuts up. Don't ask questions, don't expect answers. This is the morning routine. "I shot someone last night." This is not part of the morning routine. Seamus coughs in alarm and looks at Demos. His hands are shaking as he lights his cigaret