This is a piece I wrote for The Pits' Writing Assignment #11. The assignment was to write a story or scene only using dialogue. It kind of felt like cheating since I'd done it before with "Easy Money," but it was still fun to write. :)

Slightly Left of Normal
by CC

"'Bout time you got home. That took longer than normal."


"I wasn't aware there was a national time standard for a haircut."


"Lemme see…wow."


"Shut up."


"What? All I said was 'wow.'"


"Well, it's not all you were going to say, and I'm not in the mood for it."


"Lookit, you can't walk in the door with your hair shorter than it's been in five years—don't go in there; I just mopped—and expect me not to say anything."


"Starsk—"


"Holy shit."


"What?"


"Your mustache. You got rid of your mustache. Turn back around.  Hey, where you going?"


"If I can't have a beer, then I'm going to take a nap. Those were the only two things on my agenda today besides the haircut. Oh, wait. Check that. The haircut wasn't on my agenda until someone threw a hissy fit this morning."


"I did not throw a hissy fit. You were the one bitchin' about your hair."


"'Ouch, you're on my hair,' Starsk. That's all I said: one little comment."


"It wasn't what you said; it was when you said it. Your timing stinks."


"Yeah, well, you won't have to worry about my timing for a while, Romeo. Now go away and let me take a nap."


"I don't know why you're being so pissy. All I did was suggest you get a haircut."


"No, you ordered me to get it cut. What was it you said? Oh, yeah. 'Don't come back until that mess is gone.'  Really nasty thing to say, Starsk, and you deserve to be punished; therefore, my timing will not be an issue for you for quite some time.


"Bullshit; you won't last the day."


"I heard that."


"Good, then it wasn't wasted.  For the record, though, I did not order you to do anything. Your hair was just longer than normal, and I merely suggested you get some of it cut off so it wouldn't get in our way at the wrong time. Like this morning. Don't be a pillow hog; gimme mine back."


"What are you doing?"


"I'm gonna take a nap, too. Or is not sleeping part of my punishment?"


"Just shut up so I can go to sleep."


"You know something? I can see the back of your neck."


"I'll bet you can't see it if you close your eyes."


"I've never seen your neck looking all naked like this before."


"Yes, you have, you idiot. My hair was this short for the first seven or eight years I knew you."


"Okay, I'll rephrase it. I've never seen your naked neck while I was in the same bed with you. Better?"


"Yeah, thanks for straightening that out. I'll sleep easier now. What are you doing?"


"I'm just checking it out. It's so soft, Hutch, feels like silk."


"Back away, Ultimatum Man. I'm off-limits."


"Off-limits, my ass. Roll over."


"Why?"


"So I can have better access. Roll over."


"You ever hear of foreplay, Starsky?"


"You should be so lucky.  Now, I'm only gonna tell you one more time: roll over."


"Quit shoving—ohhhh…."


"Blech!  Tastes like talc."


"Serves you right."


"Like you didn't enjoy it. I heard you: 'ooohhhhhhh.'"


"I didn't sound like that. Just caught me by surprise is all."


"I love the way it feels right here along your hairline. It's prickly and soft at the same time. Kind of like you. You don't mind me doing that, do you?"


"Um, uhn-nnn. "


"Didn't think so. So much for hands off, huh?"


"Mmm…"


"Yeah. Here's something I bet you'll like even better."


"Mmm…do it again."


"What--blow on it like that?"


"Mmm…"


"Hey, hands where I can see 'em, mister."


"Damn, I never get to have any fun."


"Poor baby. Come here. No, turn over."


"Will you please make up your mind."


"You're the one who wanted to have some fun."


"Okay, I'm here. Now what?"


"Be still; this is like one of those whatchamacallits."


"Whatchama-whats?"


"Gimme a minute. Got it! It's like one of those Hallmark Moments. We need to be serious; this is a big occasion."


"Oh yeah?"


"Yeah. I'm about to kiss you for the first time without your mustache."


"And that's a Hallmark Moment?  Funny, I don't remember seeing a card…."


. . . .


"Oh, God, Hutch, that's good."


"No argument here."


"Listen, you can let your hair grow halfway to your ass if you want to, but the mustache is gone for good."


"When did you develop this compulsion to order me around?"


"Just shut up and kiss me again."


"Halfway to my ass, huh?"


"Listen, as long as you don't grow hair on your ass, I don't care what you do. Hey, I got an idea."


"Where are you going?"


"Here. Watch your knee. . . now, isn't this nice?"


"Except that I can't breathe. You weigh a ton. What'd you have for lunch--bricks?"


"Yep, two helpings. Now, shut your mouth. No, dummy, I didn't mean literally. Just quit talking."


"You're really getting off on this, aren't you?"


"No, so far I am only trying to get off on this, but you won't stop talking long enough for me to finish."


"Do I really look that different?"


"Yes and no. I mean, you looked good before, but you look like you did back when. . . ."


"Back when. . . ?"


"Before. You know, back when we were normal."


"Starsky, I'm as normal as I ever was; unfortunately, so are you. "


"You know what I'm trying to say. We're slightly left of normal now."


"Trust me--we didn't change; 'normal' did."


"Hutch, normal is normal. It's constant."


"I don't think so. It's more of a pattern that shifts around to fit what's natural, don't you think? Some things stay the same, but others change to fit the environment."


"We changed a lot of things, Hutch."


"Yeah, but some stuff is the same. Like watching you eat beef stew for breakfast and doughnuts for lunch. Or sitting in the car for four hours playing 'guess a number' until I'm ready to shoot myself or you or both of us."


"Okay, but what about the things that changed? You're saying they're normal to you now?"


"Yep, 'normal' now is waking up with your fat, hairy leg wrapped around me. Ow, ow, ow--enough already--I'll take it back. Your, um, stocky leg wrapped around me. How's that?"


"Acceptable. What else?"


"Seriously? 'Normal' is going to work with the smartest man I know and coming home to the most beautiful man I know. Oh, this is fun; you're actually blushing. Let's see, what else? How about cutting my hair even though I don't want to, but because you asked me to?  Or you loving me even when I'm being an asshole. Or maybe most of all, it's feeling every nerve in my body light up just from the touch of your fingers on my lips."


"That's really beautiful, Hutch. I almost teared up there for a minute. You're working awful hard just to get laid, aren't you?"


"Yeah, how'm I doing?"


"I'd say your chances are pretty good."


"What are we waiting for?


"For you to shut up."


"Okay, one more thing."


"Aaaiiighh--what now?"


"Look at me. I meant what I said: normal's looking pretty good these days."


"Yeah, for me, too. Now can we get down to business?"


"Sure it's what you want? I don't want you feeling abnormal or deviant or anything."


"Gimme your hand--does this feel abnormal to you?"


"Well, actually. . . ."


"'Sides, a little deviance never hurt anyone."


"God, I love you."


"Hutch, are you ever going to shut up?"


"Yeah."


"When?"


"How about starting now?"


. . . .

The End

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