thatsamilkshake | Francine and Katchoo's Dorm Room, St. Louis: Saturday Afternoon

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Francine and Katchoo's Dorm Room, St. Louis: Saturday Afternoon

Leftover pizza made a great breakfast even when you were five, and Saturday morning cartoons were a pretty good distraction from the impending arrival of lunchtime, but it did finally catch up.

"I'm hungry." Let's see just how waiflike Francine could make herself look, shall we? "I want ice cream!"

_
[OOC: For the girl and an eventual bewildered guest, but open for calls set before he arrives, too.]

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"Who told you that? That's STUPID," Katchoo argued. "They're bubbles! They're not alive in the first place!"

"Benj'min." Francine looked up suspiciously at the few remaining bubbles. "How comes they fly around then if they're not alive?"

"'s not flying! 's floating. Onna wind," Katchoo explained importantly. "And Benjamin's a poopoo head."

"Sometimes," Francine agreed matter-of-fact-ly. Her tendency to give boy-types the benefit of the doubt was on-again-off-again with her brother, because he was... her brother. And sometimes a poopoo head.

Another dive into the purse produced a wallet, and shaking that produced... a whole bunch of quarters. All over the floor.

"Moneys!" You didn't need to do laundry this week, did you, grown-up Francine?

Katchoo wasn't likely to get into her paints as badly today, on the one hand, but on the other hand who knew what else she could get into? Only time would tell.

"A poopoo head with a peepee brain." Thank you for clarifying, Chewie. "But he can't steal our ice cream so ha!"

"Ice cream!" Just as soon as she got all those moneys gathered up again, and primly tucked into the little coin purse. And stopped frowning quizzically at Katchoo, trying to figure out what was-- oh. "You need pants."

"Dunwanna! Pants suck," and stomping her foot three times hard was a perfectly good way to emphasize the suckiness, okay? "Stupid stupid pants! Who says I need 'em anyway?"

"My mommy." Duh. "No going out without pants unless you got a dress on." Those were the rules. "Or shortses."

"I have underwear. That's enough," Katchoo insisted. "Your mommy's not here, anyway! Who's gonna tell me no?"

Francine put the tiny little strap to her coin purse over her shoulder like a big person would and headed for the door. "What if somebody sees? There might be boys out there!"

"Boys are wimps, Francie. They'll run away." Katchoo didn't quite have the vocabulary to articulate they can't handle this yet.

"They better 'cause I'm not sharin' my ice cream with them." She totally, totally would, and they both knew it.

"LOOK OUT ICE CREAM HERE WE COME!" Francine stood up on tiptoe and threw the door open wide.

Right into the boy that was standing outside it.

"OOF!"

That wasn't what David had intended to say, but he hadn't been expecting to get hit with a door.

Or be talking to a five year old.

Which was just proof that he hadn't been hanging around Katchoo long enough, all things considered.

"David! What are you doing here?" demanded the tiny scowly five-almost-six-year-old who . . .

Who else glared like that, honestly?

Francine looked up at the stranger, then back over at Katchoo. "That's David? You're gonna marry HIM?"

Oh sure, bring that up for the first time since they'd left Fandom now, why don't you, Francine?

"I...um... what??" David, for his part, tried to peer around the little girl in the doorway to see if Katchoo was there. Or...anything resembling a grown-up.

"WHAT EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW FRANCIE, NO!"

The management would like to apologize to David Qin's poor brain, as well as to the desk chair that Katchoo didn't quite manage to topple over in her moment of reflexive horror at boy-cooties.

~~As if anything the management could do to David Qin's poor brain would top what the Cartoonist did to it? Pfft.~~

"You said." Francine didn't know exactly why she was deeply annoyed by that fact, or why she felt the need to express that by crossing her arms and staring suspiciously at the tall person in the doorway. "You said you're gonna maaaarry him and go live in Haweewee."

Not...quite.

Oh...dear. Whatever he'd just walked into the middle of, David had the sinking feeling that backing right out of it would be easier said than done. "I think you've got the wrong guy, sweetheart," he said to the one with the brown pigtails. "I'm just looking for your..."

Uh. He knew damned well Katchoo didn't have any kids, and neither did her roommate. "Katina?" he settled on, awkward as awkward could possibly be.

~~. . . this is very, very true. The Cartoonist wins by default. Default of evil.~~

"Who else, Einstein?" Katchoo crossed her arms and tapped one sock-clad (if by "clad" you were generous enough to count "half-pulled-off") foot impatiently at him. "What'd I tell you 'bout boys, Francie?"

Um, which time? Katchoo said a lot of things about boys.

For someone who wasn't interested in them.

"Uhhhh.... they're wimps?" That was the most recent one, anyway.

"Hey, now..."

Why? Why was he arguing with tiny children? And why were there tiny children in what the student directory assured him was Katina's room?

Yes, yes, she was really opinionated on a subject she didn't seem to care for, and as far as how much sense that made -- take that one up with the Cartoonist.

"Good, you remembered." Katchoo gave Francine an approving look, then glanced David's way and actually gave a loud, disapproving *sniff*. Yes, complete with practically-audible asterisks and everything. "When it comes to all that stuff, David's their king. Right, King David?"

No, she wasn't much nicer as a small child. Please.

"That's silly. He can't be king. Arthur's gonna be king!" Francine gave Katchoo an eyeroll before stomping up to David and looking him in the ...shins. At least until he looked down at her. "You can't be king and you can't marry Katchoo 'cause she's mine. ...Wanna take us for ice cream?"

What? They needed a grownup for holding hands to cross the street!

There was not enough facepalm in the world.

"I don't--" Qin, it's not Christian to lie to tiny children. You had china patterns picked out from the moment you met her. "I don't think I should be taking you anyplace without your parents' permission. I don't even know who you are."

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