fandomtownies | Luke's Diner: Thursday, 8/19

Entry tags:

Luke's Diner: Thursday, 8/19

Francine wasn't expecting a party for her last shift at Luke's or anything; she'd hardly been there long enough to rate something like that, and anyway, she was Francine; she was almost never expecting a party.

But being presented on her arrival with a giant pile of bananas on the counter and stern instructions to peel them all before lunchtime or else? It lacked a little something in the way of polite goodbyes.

At least until her lunchbreak rolled around and they called her back to the kitchen to reveal the giant banana split, mounded high with Chilly Boulder cake batter ice cream.

Specials
Banana Frittata
Bolivian Peppery pork with Bananas
Banana Split

Apparently bribing them with baked goods every Thursday paid off.

[Luke's is open! But slowplay warning from Hellllll. Or Downer's Grove, whichever.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

We can see what you're doing with those bananas, you know.

Who may or may not have ice cream on her nose.

Katchoo walked into the diner with a pineapple in her hand -- not out of any conscious intent to go along with a tropical theme, but because one had come randomly flying at her head on her way down.

"Geez," she remarked, eyeing the bananas. "Since when were you the Chiquita lady?"

"I dunno," Francine pouted. "They just threw a big pile of bananas at me and--- why do you have a pineapple?"

"I intercepted it en route to the side of my head. No idea where it came from." Katchoo set it down on the counter, next to the cash register. "Got a basket back there somewhere? We could pile it on your head with a few of the bananas, and I can go get my paints."

"..............No." Probably, yes. There was probably a basket back there somewhere. "I am not letting you paint a picture of me with fruit on my head."

"Aw, geez, you're no fun, Francie." Katchoo poked idly at a banana. "How 'bout without the fruit?"

There was a subject that hadn't come up in a while. Then again, the last time it had, the concept of clothes...or the lack thereof... had been brought up.

"What would I be wearing besides not fruit?"

Katchoo poked at a banana again, picking it up from the counter and dangling it between her fingertips by its stem. "You know what I tend to paint."

Francine eyed the dangling, and tried to come with a reply that wasn't You know how I feel about being naked in public...

Partly because after all this time she wasn't entirely sure she knew.

Unfortunately the only thing she had was, "Well, I don't have one of those."

Oh. Awkward time again. Katchoo twisted at the stem of the banana she was holding. "Yeah . . . I had noticed."

Which was a lot less than she wanted to say, but, well . . . it was nicer, that way.

Fffffft. Whatever the hell that meant. "You couldn't just paint a picture of my face?"

"Faces are easy, Francie," Katchoo answered. "It's what everything else says about a person . . . that's the interesting part, to me."

It was what made her good at reading people, at that.

Francine looked down at herself. Then behind herself.

"My butt says, 'Eat less ice cream.' "

Edited 2010-08-20 05:13 (UTC)

Katchoo shut her eyes and let her forehead thunk gently onto the counter. "Francine. If you have a point to get to here, can you get to it?"

"I don't have a point. I have... a bunch of bananas." Which was terribly helpful. "I don't know, Chewie. Maybe? Sometime? I like the idea of you painting me; I just don't know about painting all of me."

The bananas could be helpful; just not in the current situation.

Katchoo raised her head off the counter and propped her chin on her hands. "Think about it at least? I'm not -- this isn't some creepy pervy thing. It's art, and it's me."

"I know that." In a weird way, it might be easier if it was a pervy thing. She wouldn't say no to, like, edible body paints, for instance. "If it was anybody else, I wouldn't be thinking about it."

Though admittedly except not, she was also thinking about edible body paints now.

Oh. Yes. Katchoo had some of those in one of her drawers.

. . . ahem. Beside the point.

"I won't make you," she promised, if a bit grudgingly. "But it would mean a hell of a lot to me if I could."

Oh sure, appeal to the guiltmonster.

"I'll think about it, okay? I will."

Today's topic brought to you by choosing a random icon, making sure it wasn't too dirty for a comm, then writing a post around it. I should try that more often.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Luke's Diner: Thursday, 8/19

Mod your Banana. Er, Service.

Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

Re: Talk to Francine

OOC