//------------------------------// // Chapter Three: (Vinyl/Octavia POV): Pa Rum Pum Pum Pum~~. // Story: Snow Job. // by overlord-flinx //------------------------------// Alrighty... Six hours until we're there. Cool-cool. No problem there... Damn, she looks beautiful... FOCUS! Focus on the road, Vinyl! Focus on anything but Tavi's fine curved body... And stop thinking it's fine and curved! But it is... I know it is. Then why are you saying stop thinking that? Because we're supposed to be setting ourselves up for a good example and shaz this weekend. So we're supposed to ignore that Octavia's really hot? Yes--No!--I mean--Stop tripping me up inner Vinyl! Ugh... There's just no winning with that girl... The girl's hardheaded. Doesn't get it from me... Or does she? Do you have control over what your inner voice's persona's like? These are the questions that keep me up at night. Just like the question if Tavi left her bedroom door open or if there's any bananas in the fridge left. Tavi never buys any bananas for me. Why? Because she doesn't like the way I use them. But really, what else are you supposed to do with bananas other than freezing them and using them as makeshift hammers? I saw it on the science channel once; it really works. But, no, she won't get any more since I hammered all the nails in the apartment with a banana. Tavi has no imagination at all! Everything's gotta be spick-and-span, righty-tighty, deck-the-halls, and completely in order... Buuuuut... That is a little fun sometimes. I mean, have you ever seen an organization junkie when you put something out of place without them noticing? "Vinyl? Vinyl? Where's the vase?" What vase? "The vase in the living room." We don't have a vase in the living room. "Do not play coy with me. There was a little blue vase right between the porcelain elephant and the egg carved from jade." That spot was always empty. Remember? "No it wasn't! There was a vase right there!" Next thing you know, she's ripping apart the house looking for a vase. Here's a hint, I put the vase behind the elephant. I told her, don't worry... I just told her about twenty minutes after she was beat and panting on the kitchen floor in a curled up ball. A form of Octavia I now call "The Cray Ball". Ah... She's always fun to mess around with. It's part of why I'm really into her. That's why this weekend has to go perfectly. I need to show her that I'm not just some messy slob with a heart of gold and great beats... I also need to show her I'm a messy slob with a heart of gold and great beats that she loves. With her sleeping right now, it gives me plenty of thinking time to put a plan together. This must be the greatest plan in all my life. No plan before it or after must ever come close in complexity and perfection... I might need some paper for this... Dulcet in the pure mellifluousness of the oft tone I hear playing softly from Vinyl's radio. As I recall, that "Dash and Shy" pair are still playing Christmas songs. I honestly do not care for "road talk shows", but these two seem to understand the gravity of the season. Very few do these days. Cooperate pandering seems to be the largest tumor in the vanes of these Holiday seasons. It sickens me to the core. However, when I hear caroling and the words of people that truly understand the meaning of the Holidays, I find my hope. I will tell you now that hope is something I rarely find. I don't exactly have a dreary outlook on the world, but hope is and should be hard to find in yourself. Logic and reason should always be the template to which you should resolve the reasons of the world around you. If you don't understand that... You will someday, I'm sure. Moving on, it's the holidays that just make me shake with joy and hope. I do so very much love it. Every memory of the holidays I have bring me cheer. But... There is one in particular I remember very well. Perhaps one of my most cherished memories. Allow me to explain. You see, Vinyl and have been dating for... For some time... Eh-hem. Yes. About two years ago, we attended to my usual task of speaking to Santa Claus at the mall. I remember to write him once a month, of course. But those are merely letters of a cordial nature. Mr. Claus is far too busy and overworked to look at my wish list every year, so I write him motivational letters as well as letters asking him about his day. I only tell him what I want for Christmas at the mall. It's much more personal and upfront. It spares the jolly old man a break from the greedy people he usually gets wishes from. Where was I again? Sorry. Yes, well, we were going to see Santa. I waited in line with all of the other children... Granted, I did throw one child out of line when I saw him looking at a watch. You do not rush Santa or question his time between the lucky souls he takes time out of the day to listen to. That is both shameful and disrespectful! It was roughly an hour before Vinyl and I reached our turn to see Santa. Alas, we got up front right when the mall was closing. I was crestfallen to be sure, but Santa has his business to attend to. I had planned to just wait until tomorrow... Vinyl did not have any such plans. "WHOA! Oh no you don't! You're gonna get this fancy velvet rope out of our way, because my friend here's been waiting all day to see Santa Claus. Not even that though. Look at all the kids behind us. They have wishes to make. They could've begged and whined at their parents to buy them toys. We're in a frickin' mall! And you know what? They wanted to see Santa. They wanted to sit on his jolly old lap, talk in his jolly old ear, and rub his jolly old belly. And you're gonna rub us of that? No! You take this rope down, let us sit on Santa's lap, and enjoy some goddamn Christmas cheer before I jump this fence and shove Comet and Cupid up your crack. Oh-ho, and you don't even wanna know what I'll do with Rudolf!" ...Would you believe that the handler at the time opened up the line and allowed everyone to go through? The mall stayed open an extra hour so Santa could hear all the wishes. As usual though, I just asked what I ask every year since I was ten... As well as a few selfish wishes for being such a good girl this year. I was indebted to Vinyl for that. I know she doesn't much care for the Christmas holidays and only goes with it to make me happy. How do I know that? Because shortly after that little tirade she had with the handler, they told her she could see Santa first. Her response? "Fuck no. I'm Jewish."