fandomtownies | Fast Eddie's, Late Thursday Afternoon*

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$fast eddie's

Fast Eddie's, Late Thursday Afternoon*

Bowling might not be on the top ten list of recommended treatments for OT3 separation anxiety as published in So Now You're A Menage a Un^**, but hey, what's more uplifting than badly-fitting shoes and overpriced nachos?

Look, at some point this seemed like a good idea, okay?

__
^* By which we mean "Before Caritas opened."

^** ...and by God Xander loved Hiswillow, but no, he wasn't going to buy that for Anders even with the very generous 25% off amazon coupon she'd included along with the 2-page bibliography when he e-mailed her for advice.

[OOC: Xander's here with

futurebucs_star and

bridge_carson but it's open for all your posted on time RLY bowling needs.]

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Somehow, Bridge managed to find a pair of green-with-blue-stripes bowling shoes that didn't actually look *completely* horrible. And so now he's bouncing as he heads over to the third lane.

What? Three's a good number. Could be lucky!

"Okay, who's going first?"

"I believe that would be you," Xander says. His shoes are red with brown stripes and orange toes. He is not beloved of the bowling-gods. He is also not suggesting Bridge go first just so he can enjoy the view.

Really.

Anders, who's busy tying up his own dark grey, red-laced shoes, is not exactly sharing the appreciation of said view, which is a good thing for all concerned. "These feel weird," he announces, since he didn't exactly spend any time bowling at his birthday party. "I'll go last. 'cause, uh."

Because he has this feeling he'd probably suck at it, and however loose a definition you need to include bowling in the category, the jock can't really deal with sucking at a sport.

"Sounds good to me," Bridge says agreeably, as he enters their names into the electronic scoresheet. He decides to just be boring and use everyone's actual names instead of silly made-up ones, though.

Xander peers over at the scoresheet and frowns. "In the Land of Gutterballs I am usually known as Captain Awesome."

At least when he gets to fill out the scoresheet.

Anders finally gets his shoes tied and takes a look at the scoresheet too, also frowning. "Yeah, isn't this where one of us is supposed to end up being, like, Dorkface or something?"

"Well," Bridge says with a thoughtful frown. "I like your regular names! But you can pick something else out instead, if you'd like."

"I vote no on Mister Stinky Shoes," Xander opines. "Whatever Willow might say."

"Yeah, let's leave the shoes out of it," agrees Anders. "But I'll be Dorkface if nobody else will."

"Okay then," Bridge obligingly enters Captain Awesome and Dorkface before turning control of the scoresheet over to Xander so he can give Bridge a name. "Pick one for me?"

Xander rejects his first few thoughts as probably inappropriate for public broadcast. "Butteryfingers?" is his third suggestion, and the first one he actually voices.

Now especially, Anders would be grateful for Xander's restraint. "Good thing that's not literal," is all he says, "or this would be one doomed game."

'course, who's to say it's not going to be, already . . .

"Uh, actually?" Bridge looks sort of sheepish.

Anders raises an eyebrow at him and stands up, feeling like a dork as he waddles around in these stupid shoes. "Whaaaaaaaaaaat?"

"I, um. Kind of suck at bowling?" Being able to predict the exact trajectory that a ball will need to follow in order to knock down all the pins? Doesn't actually mean he can *throw* the ball to match that trajectory. It's really kind of embarassing.

"Yeah, uh." Anders looks at him sheepishly, all the wrong fingers jammed into the holes of the bowling ball in a way that's going to probably make him wish his nickname was butteryfingers, and in the literal way. "I'm not really feeling in the groove here myself."

'cept maybe the groove of, oh, say, the gutter.

"Well that's okay then," Bridge says with a grin. "We'll just have to see who sucks less."

"Not dirty not dirty not dirty," Anders adds. Because he has to.

"Not here," Xander agrees, shuddering and looking at the sticky floor.

"...Ew." Bridge makes a face.

"A million kinds of no," agrees Anders, attempting to un-stick his hand from the bowling ball.

"I think I remember it being Butteryfingerses turn," Xander points out with a small cough.

"Okay, okay, Captain Awesome," Bridge rolls his eyes, and also his bowling ball. Which knocks down a whopping... two pins.

The next ball does slightly better, knocking down three more.

"Well, that's a good start!" Bridge says, bouncing cheerfully back to his seat.

Anders slip-slide-shuffles his way up to the line and sort of . . . flings the bowling ball off his fingers, luckily not taking the fingers off. The ball hits the lane with a heavy thunk and rolls sideways riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight into the gutter.

The second ball . . . gets the 10-pin by bouncing up right as it gets to the end of the gutter.

"I blame the shoes," he mutters as he sits down.

Xander rolls a 6-4 spare.

In his head.

On the lane it's more like 6....and then on the next turn the ball politely misses the remaining 4 pins while coming close enough to compliment them on their fine paint jobs and slender, attractive, swanlike necks.

"I blame the eye," Xander doesn't bother to mutter. Possibly he means the poor depth perception, possibly he means where he was looking instead of at the lane.

Bridge just shakes his head and rolls... a split, followed by a gutterball.

"This game would be so much better if we got three rolls with every frame," Bridge remarks absently.

Anders stares in utter and complete incredulous disbelief as his gutterball is followed up by some ridiculous roll where the 7-pin, just barely nudged by the gutterball, apparently manages to reach around and poke the 10-pin into falling over too . . . leaving the rest standing.

"No, I think that might be cruel and unusual, dude."

"It's hard enough keeping track of the score now," Xander agrees. He helpfully makes it easy on Bridge this round by hitting.... one pin.

"Psh, scoring. For once I'd like to just actually knock all of the pins down, is all I'm saying," Bridge says. This time he *almost* manages just that. Except there's still one pin left stubbornly upright.

"More than I've gotten," grumbles Anders. It doesn't make him any less grumbly when, two rolls later, he's only managed to knock down the headpin and three behind it.

"I used to be better at this," Xander says, staring at his ball rolling towards the gutter. Actually, he didn't use to be better; he just used to believe Captain Awesome's self-created press.

"Maybe we should make our own rules, where the lowest score wins," Bridge suggests as he rolls two gutter balls. "Except then we'd all be intentionally throwing the balls in the gutter, so..." never mind that the view during Xander's turns does not fail to send his *mind* to the gutter.

Anders squints down the lane and glares at the stubborn pins that he swears are stuck on with glue or something. "Personally I might do better diving headfirst into the pins. But that way lies brain damage and unhappy . . . yeah."

"Maybe if you held your hands out in front of you?" Xander suggests thoughtfully, picturing the dive down the lane in his head. "There should be, like, Slip-n-Slide bowling. With water going down the lanes."

Well, see, now Bridge is just picturing *Xander* in a swimsuit and making said dive and... hey, hello gutterballs. Again.

"And water cannons you can use to knock the pins down!" suggests Anders, who attempts to do a two-handed basketball-pass sort of roll on his next frame -- and it's a good thing he doesn't leave a dent in the lane, the way it thuds right into the wood and wobbles its way to the gutter. "I'd totally rock at that game."

Xander loves his bff-in-law, rly, in a totally platonic way, but he can't avoid saying it. "You.... granny shot. You seriously just bowled a granny shot."

Bridge does not giggle. Rly.

Anders sticks his tongue out at his totally-not-giggling best friend. "It was safer than risking my fingers coming off next time!"

"They don't actually bite, y'know," Xander points out, totally not not-giggling. "...unless yours does? Balls with teeth would be bad."

"Woah! There's a bowling alley here Man!"

The bowling alley might have nodded and/or waved, if it possessed that ability. Actually in Fandom there was a reasonably good chance it did and was only refraining so as not to knock anybody's ball into the gutter.

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Fast Eddie's, Late Thursday Afternoon*

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