The busiest day of the week	 

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you read this, okay? Please send comments, questions, compliments, and
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This is what happens when the Angst Muse and the Silly Fairy stop ignoring
each other, and start fighting. I'm just stuck in the middle. Again. It's
sort of a parody, but no, I'm not talking about *your* story. You're just
paranoid, and yes, I do know where you live. 

I'm dedicating this one to Catherine, cause she has a warped little mind
and I'm the better for it. (Yes, I'm sucking up because of 'Got Milk,' but
it's still true.) Tomorrow: the busiest day of the week 

"I love you." 

"I love you, too." 

"Oh Benny." 

"Oh Ray." 

They kiss as credits roll and music plays. 

Cut! No, no, no, no, no. That won't work. Okay, how's 'bout this. Ray, you
come over here, and be on the bed. Now, you've just learned that Fraser
has been killed while he was rescuing moose or something. You're
completely devastated. 

Fraser, you come in, and you don't know that you're, well, dead, and then-
no. Too Buffy-esque. 

Maybe something a little less huge. Um, a cold. Or the flu. And Fraser, I
think it's your turn. Ray was It last time. Plenty of room for some
comfort without that much hurt. But something about that seems overly
familiar. 

Okay, try this. 

"How do I love thee, let me count the ways. I love thee to the death-" 

"No. No death stories." 

Sorry. How'd that get in there? Would you consider some happy meaningless
moments? 

"Nah, too boring." 

Boring? Fine. Whatever you say. I'm just the poor writer, it's not like I
have any say in this. Just remember, there's a No-Full-House crossover
clause in my contract. 

What about a simple story without all the hoopla and angst. One where you
realize that you love each other and there's no big crisis and- 

"Ah, but you've already written that one, remember?" 

Oh, come on guys. Couldn't you cooperate just a little, and let me finish
some of these stories before making me come up with all these new ideas?
I've got at least one that's over a year old! Puh-leazze? I'll let you
have a vacation, while I take a nap. 

"But then you'd want to write about our vacation." 

It's not *my* fault you two can't go on vacation without somebody
hijacking something. Blame Alliance for that. They started it. 

"It doesn't matter whose fault it is, let's just move on, okay?" 

Fine by me. Insomnia? 

"Slept through it." 

Heaven? 

"Been there, have the T-shirt." 

Um, a wedding? 

"Who has to wear the dress?" 

[arghgh, wish you were dead] 

"What was that?"  

I said, um, if you hadn't been born.  

"Oh please. Who do I look like? The Fresh Prince of Chicago? I'm not jiggy
with that." 

Victoria? 

"***********NO!**************" 

Okay, you don't have to yell. I get the point. No Victoria. RayK angst? 

"Nah, he's still having too much fun with Dewey and Turnbull. Let's leave
them alone for now." 

Well, that still leaves Francesca. 

"No!" 

"It's okay, Benny. I won't let her do that to you." 

I can take a hint. Your father? 

"I suggest a moratorium on relatives." 

Does that include nightmares about Buck? 

"YES!!" 

"And please, not that thing with Ian again. I know Anagi has a soft spot
for him, but he gets on my nerves." 

What about getting pregnant again? 

"No way. Once was enough. Between the morning sickness and the gas . . .
." 

Gas? 

"Don't go getting any ideas. I think Lumpy's been a bad influence on you."


Has not. She's . . . . inspirational. 

"I'm going to hit you." 

No, you're not. We already got violent and neither of you liked it. Maybe
I'm just blocked . . . road blocks? 

"Run that by me one more time?" 

Roadblocks. You know things that get in the way of your relationship. Like
your jobs, or your family, or your pasts. 

"I think you've done enough in the angst department." 

Um, I just got a new cd. Maybe that will give me some inspiration. 

"Haven't you written enough songfic?" 

What do you mean? There's the one where you've just gotten back from . . .
and the one where you see . . . I see what you mean. 

"We're looking for something different. What's the first thing that comes
to your head?" 

Ice cream? 

"No thanks, I'm not hungry." 

"Me neither." 

I meant as a story. Groundhog's? 

"What are you, the Road Kill Café?" 

I'm brainstorming here. It's random. 

"It certainly is." 

Another game of MASH? 

"And end up with my belly button wet again? I don't think so." 

So no foreplay? 

"For you, no. For us, later." 

Oh come on. You always make me cut off at the good parts. Everybody's an
adult. 

"We're cops, not Pamela Anderson and her boytoy. Maybe you need a
vacation." 

"Good idea. Maybe we can get her reservations at that place." 

"What place?" 

"You know, Benny. The fulcrum?" 

What kind of a name is that for a hotel? Hey, let me go . . . .  

They're coming to take me away, ha-ha, they're coming to take me away,
ho-ho, hee-hee, ha-ha, to the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the
time, and I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white
coats and they're coming to take me away . . .