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Dovil Day Fic the Fourth

Dear Gott em himmel. I must retire to bed, even though it is still early evening GMT +12 wherein Dovil lives. Hopefully you are drunk, shaking your butt, having a blast, and not paying for a thing.

Last request I'm filling for tonight was her wanting: Spike and Angel to both Shanshu then they get married and adopt toy poodles and live happily ever after uberaeryn did this request in a Southern-Fried manner and it's hilarious. Easter Eggs are discarded in favor of dyed poodles, people. It's linked (with the other fics) here.

Oh. And my boys are living in Florida. As such, a Yiddish translation is at the bottom.


“You know, only a real alter kakhu 1 or a shmendrik would wear polyester pants on a hot day like this. Liam. We’re in the Everglades, for God’s sake”

“North Miami Beach is NOT the Everglades,” Liam snaps back. He mutters under his breath, “Kush meer in toches, Nudnik.”2

“I heard that.”

“You heard that, you heard this... You never hear me ask you for a glass of water.”

“How can you sit there, in the heat, shvitzing? Don’t be such a stubborn old man. Come inside, sit next to the screen. I’ll turn on the fan. It’ll be cooler. Besides, Buffy wants you to pet her.”

Liam’s eyes lit up at the mention of his beloved toy poodle’s name. He couldn’t recall where the name came from, but he always felt happy. Which always made him feel guilty. But Buffy was a sweet dog, bit nippy at the heels when she didn’t get fed the way she liked, but they kept her fur clean. No tacky orange streaks at her eyes and mouth.

With a creak, a groan, and a hand at the base of his spine, Liam stood. Fumbling with the thin metal handle of the screen, he shuffled into the aqua-blue bungalow to sit in his favorite chair by the screen. He loved watching the golf carts race down the street.

As he settled his wide, flat, beginning to sag, old-man ass into his Barcolounger, Buffy yipped and jumped up into his lap, circling three times and finally settling down, clean white nose on her paws. William, Liam’s companion for the past 62 years, was futzing with the controls of the oscillating fan. Liam heard William muttering under his breath, and a hand slap down hard on the top of the fan.

“This fecockteh fan! Oy, gevelt! Farshtikener!”3 Another hand slap on the top, and a faint, cool breeze begins to blow back and forth across the back of Liam’s wrinkly neck. He sighs in relief.

“What did I tell you? Was it so hard for you to shlep in here and enjoy the breeze and view from the comfort of your own chair? Now that sweet tuchis I love is better, huh?”

Liam looks over to his partner of all these years with a smile. “Sweetheart, I cannot for the life of me remember what I did without you.”

William sits, fans his mu-mu to cool his inner thighs, and leans back. “I’ll tell you, you with the not remembering. Don’t think I don’t see through you. If you and if I didn’t become human all those years ago, you would have sat in some dark cave, mooning over that tstaskele 4 until you lost your mind. Don’t tell me, I know.”

Tstaskele? Who are you talking about? Are you meshuggeneh?”5 Buffy nipped at Liam’s hand, which stilled during the latest argument between her owners.

“Who am I talking about....” William rolled his eyes and flung his hands in the air. “Sie haut gevain a courva in de momma’s bonch!6 You’re lucky you have me. Go on and take a short nap. It’s almost 4:30. They’re serving lamb.”

“Lamb? But I wanted chicken.”

“Pfft. Chicken. How I’ve managed to stay with such a shmuck all these decades... Ahh.” William makes a dismissive hand gesture, stands, slides on his house shoes and leans over to Liam, resting his balding, liver-spotted head on his love’s. With a soft kiss, and a moment with his cheek to Liam’s thinning hair, he stands and stretches his lower back.

“Take a snooze. I’ll wake you in time for the bus. If we get there too late, all the steamed broccoli is gone. Buffy... Come get your treat, you farshtinkener animal....”

Liam begins to close his eyes, the bright Florida sun sparkling off the water of the ocean, while William begins to hum to himself in the kitchen.

A/N: in case you don’t speak Yiddish...
* To Life!
1. Old fart
2. Kiss my ass, Pest.
3. Screwed up, not working; Oh, No!; Rotten, bad
4. Bimbo
5. Crazy person
6. She was a whore in her mother’s stomach!


( 10 comments — Leave a comment )
Mar. 7th, 2005 09:50 pm (UTC)
My day is complete - the truth comes out - mein Yiddishe ex-vampires!

Also, I've been meaning to compliment you on the multi-faceted expressions you've managed to capture with my beloved Spock in your mood theme. He's almost as expressive as Angel. And I should know... been a Spock girl since 1967. Is it any wonder why I also fell for Spike? They could pass for twins!
Mar. 8th, 2005 05:42 am (UTC)
Spock/Spike = I Know!! You and Sue need to get together. She feels the same.

You're making me Va Klempt!
Mar. 7th, 2005 10:51 pm (UTC)
I don't even know what to say. ::snorts loudly:: I can just imagine Spike being an old Jewish motherly type. So funny.
Mar. 8th, 2005 05:42 am (UTC)
What's a mother but to suffer?
Mar. 8th, 2005 12:51 am (UTC)
*snorts then chokes then snorts some more*

Spike and Angel...as Jewish old farts...*falls down laughing*
Mar. 8th, 2005 05:43 am (UTC)
*steals your wallet while you are down and out*
Hee!! It was HER idea, swear to god. (I think she's a little crazy)
Mar. 8th, 2005 06:54 am (UTC)
Plants, music, math, Yiddish... is there anything you don't know everything about? *smooches your big brain*

*still giggling at Spike's liver-spotted head*
Mar. 8th, 2005 06:59 pm (UTC)
This is just wonderful, and so perfect for them. Two old farts dithering away, snarking at each other to the end. And I learnt new insults! I feel so cultured now. And Buffy the toy poodle - bwah! You funny!
(Deleted comment)
Mar. 9th, 2005 08:23 am (UTC)
*is giggling helplessly. And oddly verklempt at the thought of them being tacky old people together*
( 10 comments — Leave a comment )


Are You Actually

Reading this? I'm just curious. Because that's really detail-oriented of you. Feel free to stop reading. But you can see that there's more here, so are you going to keep reading? Really? That's pretty dedicated. I'm impressed. No, really. I'm not being sarcastic, why do you get like that? See, this is the problem I have with your mother - yes. YES. I'm going there. It's time we put all of our cards on the table.

I love you, why are you doing this? After all we've been through? You don't have to be like this. You know, still reading. You could be baking a pie. And then sharing it with me.

Time Wot It Is

April 2017
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