ANC Lancer 500 word drabble.
Disclaimer: Why can’t I own them, I brought them forward in time?
Author’s note: This is for Binnie. She sends me all kinds of cute cartoons that she thinks would make good ANC or Brat Pack story starters. She sent this one today, it’s a Marvin cartoon and when I opened it about an hour ago I was seized by this scene and had to write it down.
~*~ L ~*~ A ~*~ N ~*~ C ~*~ E ~*~ R ~*~
"What's wrong with you?" Scott questioned upon entering the media room and finding his younger brother flopped down on one of the leather recliners, an impressive pout marring his boyish face.
His petulant pout morphing into an angry scowl, Johnny pitched forward, slamming the footrest of the chair in place, his boot heels squeaking as they contacted the tile floor. "Dad," he growled, as though that was all the explanation needed. He harrumphed and crossed his arms over his torso, the unhappy expression returned.
Running a tanned hand through his blond locks streaked with glittering strands of sun bleached gold, Scott sighed and asked, "Tell me what happened." The lean young officer dropped into the other LazyBoy as he awaited what he was sure would be a complaint filled with indignant teenage angst.
Leaping to his feet, the teen paced back and forth in front of his brother as he considered his words, unaware Scott was biting back the smile that wanted to form. Stymied and tongue tied, Johnny tossed his hands up and then let them fall, striking his thighs with twin pop sounds. "I just wish Dad could make his mind up," he snarled, raising his right hand he tugged on his ear, "I get so damn tired of his changin' excuses when I ask permission to do something."
Reaching out, Scott pulled Johnny back to his chair and pushed him to sit. "I'm not sure what's going on here but I've never known our father to be anything but decisive, once he has spoken it's as carved in stone as the Lancer name on the entrance arch."
Knocking Scott's hand off his knee, the youth declared, "I knew you'd take his side before you even heard me out!"
Sitting up in the recliner the blond managed to stiffen his spine and hold his self up with military bearing. "Perhaps we would get further with this discussion if you would enlighten me as to what 'excuse' you feel he keeps changing." Scott's eyebrows rose, and his mouth pursed in matter not unlike his father when he issued orders he expected to be followed.
Cocking his thumb and tapping his chest with it, Johnny declared, "I'm talking about the fuckin' age excuse. When I do something he doesn't like he tells me I'm old enough to know better," the youth complained, his mouth contorted with his growing agitation, "but when I try to do the right thing and ask permission he throws it back in my face that I'm too young." Popping out of the chair once more, Johnny looked as though he was doing jumping jacks while holding a live wire as he shouted, "How the Hell long is he gonna use that...that...two-sided way of sayin’ NO!"
Both brothers startled when the man in question marched into the room, back ramrod straight and barked, "Until you're twenty-one or I'm dead, whichever comes first!" Executing a perfect about face the tall general marched away.
“Getting old stinks,” the brothers agreed.
March 5, 2012