Fictionlet
“Why do we come to these parties, again?” Brigid asked, giving the olive-on-a-cocktail-sword in her drink a wary eye.
“Well I come to them because I spend all day sitting in the apartment at my computer and need to get out among the populi every now and again,” said Greg. “Why you do, is entirely open to debate, but I have a feeling it has to do with not wanting to sit home alone listening to crickets chirp on Friday nights.”
“Yo, Greg! Yo, Brigid!” said Treville, sidling up to them. “Whattya think of this music? OMGWTFBBQ’s latest. I just bought this CD.”
“Did you?” said Greg. “Well yes, as thumpa-thumpa music goes it’s not bad, but I think you’ve gotten confused, old scout. This isn’t OMGWTFBBQ, it’s the Sexy Hazmats.”
Treville stopped and listened. “What? No. Are you sure? No.”
“Yup, quite sure,” said Greg.
Treville’s eyes shifted back and forth a few seconds, then he said, “Oh, yeah, you’re right, of course it is. I didn’t recognize it, ’cause I only have their first album. So much better than this one.”
“They’ve only had the one album,” said Brigid. “They split up two months after it was released.”
Treville stopped again. “Oh. Uh. Are you sure? I must be thinking of their EP.”
“You’re thinking of OMGWTFBBQ again,” said Greg. “They had an EP.”
“Oh like you know!” said Treville. “Just ’cause you’ve never heard the Sexy Hazmats’ EP, doesn’t mean they didn’t have one!”
“All right, all right,” said Greg.
“I’ve got all the Sexy Hazmats’ albums, I’ll have you know, and OMGWTFBBQ, too! My music collection is awesome.”
“Hey,” said Brigid, “where’s my little olive-on-a-cocktail-sword?”
Greg declined to answer; in a moment of quick thinking he’d slipped it out of her drink to keep it from ending up in Treville’s eye.
-The Gneech
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