Fandom: A-Fic (original characters)
Word Count: 256
Characters: Grif, Lynn
Warnings: Grammar humor!
Prompt/request: A prompt by anthoras, onomatopoeia. ^_^
Lynn had unwillingly agreed to "read" opposite Grif, to help him learn his lines. Aside from Lynn's less than favorable impression regarding actors and acting, she thought the dialog trite and pretentious. The villain was prone to long rambling monologues, and Grif, as the villain's right-hand man, had what Lynn considered a "lip balm" role: needing plenty of the stuff, because of all the arse-kissing.
"Who wrote this garbage?" she burst out, interrupting the pseudo-rehearsal.
Grif looked offended. "Until you can write a screenplay yourself, you hardly have room to complain," he sniffed. "It's hard work to write a script."
"Don't give me that," Lynn snapped back. "It may be hard, but whoever wrote this sure didn't put much effort into it. And you don't have to make art to appreciate good art, so don't tell me I can't complain about a stinking pile of mara crap masquerading as high cinema." A thought struck her. "Did you write this?"
"No," Grif said, and the expression on his face led Lynn to believe him.
"Good. You couldn't do worse than this, and you could probably do better. The alliteration is total trash, the pleonasms are redundant to the point of excess, the onomatopoeia thuds instead of zips, and the oxymorons are pretty ugly." She threw the script on the floor. "I'll be in the lab." She left; she knew he would not disturb her there, and she had to work off her annoyance.
After the lab door closed, Grif went to his microcomputer and began typing furiously.