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anythingdrabbleTitle: 'Rapscallion'
Fandom: The Monkees
Characters: Micky Dolenz, Henry Babbitt
Word Count: 200
Rating: G
Notes: Crossposted tovocab_drabbles
Summary: "I oughta have your head on a platter!"
"Dolenz! You rotten rapscallion! I oughta have your head on a platter!"
That was the only warning Micky received, before being unceremoniously dragged out from under the Monkeemobile.
"What the heck's going on?! Uh, sir," he quickly tacked on, seeing an irate Babbitt confronting him.
"Someone planted a bunch of cherry bombs in my back yard," the landlord snarled. "They've been blasting all day! I've been an inch away from having a heart attack for two hours!"
Micky wrung a greasy rag between his hands. "I promise you, it wasn't me," he insisted. "I've been working on the car for at least three hours. It was probably those little twin boys who moved in just up the block."
"Well, maybe you weren't the one. Maybe it was those kids. But you probably encouraged them," Babbitt grumbled.
"Look, Mister Babbitt. I don't think any little kid needs encouragement to get into mischief. Especially not a pair of little boys. I was a little boy, once. Heck, you were a little boy, once!"
At the moment, however, with Babbitt looking so surly, it was hard for Micky to believe that he was ever even a teenager, much less a fun-loving child.
Fandom: The Monkees
Characters: Micky Dolenz, Henry Babbitt
Word Count: 200
Rating: G
Notes: Crossposted to
vocab_drabblesSummary: "I oughta have your head on a platter!"
"Dolenz! You rotten rapscallion! I oughta have your head on a platter!"
That was the only warning Micky received, before being unceremoniously dragged out from under the Monkeemobile.
"What the heck's going on?! Uh, sir," he quickly tacked on, seeing an irate Babbitt confronting him.
"Someone planted a bunch of cherry bombs in my back yard," the landlord snarled. "They've been blasting all day! I've been an inch away from having a heart attack for two hours!"
Micky wrung a greasy rag between his hands. "I promise you, it wasn't me," he insisted. "I've been working on the car for at least three hours. It was probably those little twin boys who moved in just up the block."
"Well, maybe you weren't the one. Maybe it was those kids. But you probably encouraged them," Babbitt grumbled.
"Look, Mister Babbitt. I don't think any little kid needs encouragement to get into mischief. Especially not a pair of little boys. I was a little boy, once. Heck, you were a little boy, once!"
At the moment, however, with Babbitt looking so surly, it was hard for Micky to believe that he was ever even a teenager, much less a fun-loving child.
