(no subject)

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

*Storms through the front door, muttering under his breath. *

Tell me to my face she thinks I'm lying will see? well, we'll just see about that, no such place, like after going to hell i can't have found a bar that she can't visit.

*Next to his head,a tiny version of himself appears, looking rather fearful*

(Tiny Tim) W-w--w-ell, y-y-ou did speak rather h-h-harshly to h-hh-er about it.

*Glares at his minature self*

She has no right to go calling me a liar. Shoo!

*And the replica poofs into non-exsistance once more.*

Stupid me arguing with myself.

*Slams money down on the bar top*

Bar! Butter beer, to go. In a cup with a logo, if you would.

*Takes the plastic cup with the milliways logo on it and storms back out. As the door slams shut behind him, he can be heard to mutter.*

Bloody girls. I bet shes on the bleedin rag, that must be it, to torture me like this....