A few days ago, we played "Add a sentence" and this is what we came up with. I hope you enjoy and I hope everyone who played had fun.
The Hodgepodge Affair
Authors: Spikesgirl, Rachaljurassic, Reapermum, Avrovulcan, Grey853, Sparky955, Avery11, Jkkitty, & Loxleyprince.
Illya Kuryakin aimed for the wastebasket, but at the last moment, the wastebasket checked and faked to the right, causing the paper cup to bounce off and land perilously close to Napoleon's expensive, hand-sewn, Italian shoes.
“Illya, I know you hate deskwork and that you are bored, but must you take your vengeance out on a pair of perfectly innocent shoes?
“They were looking at me funny.”
Napoleon raised an eyebrow. “Did you get that concussion checked out?” he asked.
"I passed by Medical for that very reason.
"If your shoes were not so near they would not have been in danger, Napoleon. Anyway, my aim was accurate, that basket moved."
Solo humphed, got up and moved his shoes to a safer place, across the room from the waste bin.
"Inert objects don't move on their own volition Illya. Sure you've not been on the vodka?"
Blue eyes stared at him and he threw a screwed up paper ball to the offending basket. It bounced off the rim and flew across the room, landing near the footwear yet again.
"You had to have seen that Napoleon, it's either the basket or your shoes. When did they repaint the corridor walls avocado?"
Napoleon raised his other eyebrow, "Avocado?"
"The walls aren't avocado?" Illya scratched his jaw and pursed his lips. "And you are going to tell me that the office furniture isn't tangerine orange and lemon yellow, I suppose?"
Napoleon saw the baggie of dried mushrooms on Illya's desk and then noticed that his partner sported some seriously dark pupils. "Illya, you were supposed to take these down to the lab for testing. Please tell me you didn't sample the goods first."
Illya grinned like a maniac and crossed his arms. "Why should I tell a man wearing big red nose and clown shoes?"
"IK, did you clean your glasses with Drano, again?"
As if nothing had happened, Napoleon held out his hand towards his communicator... which suddenly slipped through his fingers and fell down.
“Illya, what are those things in that bag and is it open?"
Holding the bag up to the light, Illya chuckled, "It has a small hole."
"And, pray tell, did a blond Russian mouse bite open that hole?" Illya giggled. Napoleon rolled his eyes and reached for his partner’s elbow.
He cleared his throat and reached for the phone. "Medical, please. I think we have a need for a specialist up here." "
"What?" The person on the other end of the phone was obviously confused.
"Mr. Kuryakin is in need of some help." Napoleon took control of the phone again. We're in my office. Could you send a couple orderlies up to help escort him down."
"Or better yet some vuloop... vulac... vu... well-built nurses. "
"And hurry! Illya, why don't we sit down over here for a few minutes?"
Emptying the wastepaper bin and thrusting it under Illya's face, as the blond turned a delicate shade of avocado himself.
"I'm.... I'm." Illya took a deep breath and sat with a thump. "I think I'm not feeling very well. My head sort of hurts."
"It's okay, partner. Medical will be here in a minute and they will be able to help." Napoleon silently raged again the idiots who let Illya sweet talk himself out of observation
As the door opened to let in the orderlies, Illya jumped up and began to run down the corridors, singing at the top of his lungs.
Wild thing! You make my heart sing! You make everything - groovy!"
People started coming out of their offices, some with the weapons drawn. Napoleon hunched his shoulders and gestured weakly. "Head injury," he explained, smiling at his fellow employees.
"Sound more like a throat injury if you ask me. Or a cat being strangled..." Don Olsen wasn't generous with his praise or hesitant with his criticism.
"Wild thing, I think I love you - but I wanna know for sure!"
Olsen took a hasty step backwards.
"You know," Illya said seriously, suddenly changing tracks. "When I first got here I thought avocados were pears. I bought one, attempted to peal it and ate it with sugar...it was the most disgusting thing I've ever eaten in my life!"
At which point he threw up spectacularly all over poor Olsen's shoes
"Ah, sorry about your shoes, Olsen.” Napoleon sighed and shook his head. Some days it didn’t pay to chew through the restraints. “What size do you wear?"
"Twelve." Medical arrived and bundled Illya into a wheelchair. The fact that he didn't protest spoke volumes to Napoleon.
Napoleon shut his eyes in pain. "I have a new pair in my office. I'll go get them for you." He thrust the baggie at Olsen. “And get these tested. I want to send a surprise package to THRUSH special delivery.”