“Alright, the elf outfit’s not that bad. What do you think of this?” Jim asked, fiddling with the hem of a jumper.
“For you or Ben? It’s not really your colour.”
“Me of course. It’s too common for Ben, what about in white?” He pulled one out from the rail and placed it up against him, seeing how it’d look in the mirror that was near by.
Larry stared at him incredulously.
“Another jumper? How many jumpers do you need?”
“What? They’re warm!”
“Jim, you’ll be a walking jumper soon.”
“Mat likes them.” He mumbled, putting it back on the rail.
“C’mon...” He sulked, wandering away from the jumpers.
“I like them too, but that doesn’t mean I need to fill my wardrobe with them. Do you actually own anything other than jumpers?”
“Nope. This is my only other outfit.” He said, gesturing at his costume. “Luckily it’s in season.”
He dived into the jeans section, picking up a ridiculously skinny pair with turn ups. “For Mat?”
Larry snorted.
“From M&S? No chance. Not hipster enough. We need to go to Topshop or a vintage store or something to get anything close to finding something for him. Besides, I don’t know his size.” He raised an eyebrow at Jim. “...and you do?”
“Minus 5, or something. He’s like cardboard.” He put the jeans back on the pile after a failed attempt at folding them up as neatly as they had been done before.
“Cardboard doesn’t have elbows that pokey or awkward.”
“Corrugated cardboard, then.”
Larry nodded, accepting that comparison despite muttering about cardboard not being that heavy when it fell on you or that smelly when it farted... not that cardboard could fart.
“Imagine if cardboard could fart.” He wondered out loud. “What do you think it would smell of?
“Paint.” He answered, glancing over at Larry with a questioning look. “Why?”
“I was trying to work out if Mat really was made of cardboard... if the fart smells of paint, wouldn’t the poo be paint? We could set up our own paint making business. Buy lots of cardboard cutouts of people, take them to houses that need decorating and... why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m wondering if they’d ever make a cardboard cutout of Mat. Or anyone one of us for that matter. We’re not that cool yet. And seven year olds don’t really ask for cardboard cutouts for Christmas. They’re more happy with games of Kerplunk and Gameboys and things.”
“There are cardboard cutouts of Indiana Jones. It can’t be long before people are demanding Indiana Larrys to stand in their houses. And there would definitely be a market for us. For Mat, at least. Just think of all those horny teenagers that would love to have him in their bedroom, a life-size hipster of their very own, looming over their bed while they wank. Of course, middle aged women would have Ben in their rooms.”
“M&S isn’t really working out for me anymore. If we’re looking for horny teenagers maybe we should try ‘hip’ places like New Look and Claire’s? I love Claire’s...” He said. The crowds of people they were pushing their way past were now staring, having clearly been listening to their conversation as their faces were now very puzzled.
“Not that I’m a horny teenager.” Jim added for good measure. “...If I was I’m sure I’d know by now that elf costumes don’t pull girls. Actually, I know that from experience.”
“They pull Larrys though.” Larry grinned at him, before elbowing him in the side. “That man thinks you’re looking for a horny teenager. I don’t think anyone would mistake you for one. You’re too old now. Horny old man.”
“The line is a speck of dust to you sometimes, I swear.” He shook his head, trying not to laugh as they headed towards a shop not full of pensioners and families.
“That’s what rewrites are for. And sadly, my mouth has no rewrites so I rely on you to stop me.”
Unprompted Jim/Larry - Christmas Shopping - Part 4/5
“For you or Ben? It’s not really your colour.”
“Me of course. It’s too common for Ben, what about in white?” He pulled one out from the rail and placed it up against him, seeing how it’d look in the mirror that was near by.
Larry stared at him incredulously.
“Another jumper? How many jumpers do you need?”
“What? They’re warm!”
“Jim, you’ll be a walking jumper soon.”
“Mat likes them.” He mumbled, putting it back on the rail.
“C’mon...” He sulked, wandering away from the jumpers.
“I like them too, but that doesn’t mean I need to fill my wardrobe with them. Do you actually own anything other than jumpers?”
“Nope. This is my only other outfit.” He said, gesturing at his costume. “Luckily it’s in season.”
He dived into the jeans section, picking up a ridiculously skinny pair with turn ups. “For Mat?”
Larry snorted.
“From M&S? No chance. Not hipster enough. We need to go to Topshop or a vintage store or something to get anything close to finding something for him. Besides, I don’t know his size.” He raised an eyebrow at Jim. “...and you do?”
“Minus 5, or something. He’s like cardboard.” He put the jeans back on the pile after a failed attempt at folding them up as neatly as they had been done before.
“Cardboard doesn’t have elbows that pokey or awkward.”
“Corrugated cardboard, then.”
Larry nodded, accepting that comparison despite muttering about cardboard not being that heavy when it fell on you or that smelly when it farted... not that cardboard could fart.
“Imagine if cardboard could fart.” He wondered out loud. “What do you think it would smell of?
“Paint.” He answered, glancing over at Larry with a questioning look. “Why?”
“I was trying to work out if Mat really was made of cardboard... if the fart smells of paint, wouldn’t the poo be paint? We could set up our own paint making business. Buy lots of cardboard cutouts of people, take them to houses that need decorating and... why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m wondering if they’d ever make a cardboard cutout of Mat. Or anyone one of us for that matter. We’re not that cool yet. And seven year olds don’t really ask for cardboard cutouts for Christmas. They’re more happy with games of Kerplunk and Gameboys and things.”
“There are cardboard cutouts of Indiana Jones. It can’t be long before people are demanding Indiana Larrys to stand in their houses. And there would definitely be a market for us. For Mat, at least. Just think of all those horny teenagers that would love to have him in their bedroom, a life-size hipster of their very own, looming over their bed while they wank. Of course, middle aged women would have Ben in their rooms.”
“M&S isn’t really working out for me anymore. If we’re looking for horny teenagers maybe we should try ‘hip’ places like New Look and Claire’s? I love Claire’s...” He said. The crowds of people they were pushing their way past were now staring, having clearly been listening to their conversation as their faces were now very puzzled.
“Not that I’m a horny teenager.” Jim added for good measure. “...If I was I’m sure I’d know by now that elf costumes don’t pull girls. Actually, I know that from experience.”
“They pull Larrys though.” Larry grinned at him, before elbowing him in the side. “That man thinks you’re looking for a horny teenager. I don’t think anyone would mistake you for one. You’re too old now. Horny old man.”
“The line is a speck of dust to you sometimes, I swear.” He shook his head, trying not to laugh as they headed towards a shop not full of pensioners and families.
“That’s what rewrites are for. And sadly, my mouth has no rewrites so I rely on you to stop me.”