[You can keep telling yourself that, Gin-san! That a pissing contest was just about piss and trajectory - which anyone who wasn't a complete idiot mastered as soon as they were tall enough to aim at whatever they needed to. And if little Gin-chan had heart, then... well. He had no room to judge when it came to enthusiasm.
But they weren't really talking about that.]
I wasn't, really, soap opera-san.
[He doesn't often really listen to Gintoki anyway. Just enough to be infuriating, oh yes, but not enough to... get what he's saying.
Ah-ah! Little mongrels are the most likely to be swept up in wars! Often without their consent, or without them knowing!
And this little mongrel has lost the prize, and thus lost the war. So it goes.
And so does Gintoki, apparently.
No skin off his back, really, because he'd finally be able to eat his lunch in relative peace (maybe after washing his chopsticks... or at least pulling out clean ones...), but... ah, that wasn't to be, yet, either, because there's one final, petulant act left in Gintoki yet.
The temptation to give the desk an extra little tilt (it was a little wobbly, unfortunately) to send the bento careening off the edge was real. It would surely shock his annoying classmate, and give him ample excuse to straight punch him in his retreating back, but...
Well that would be such a travesty.
He was hungry, after all.
So he'll put on a fake-shocked expression, and a fake-relieved one right after.]
Later, ochintoki-san.
[Ah- but would that make Gin win the dick measuring contest this time? Ah well.]
no subject
But they weren't really talking about that.]
I wasn't, really, soap opera-san.
[He doesn't often really listen to Gintoki anyway. Just enough to be infuriating, oh yes, but not enough to... get what he's saying.
Ah-ah! Little mongrels are the most likely to be swept up in wars! Often without their consent, or without them knowing!
And this little mongrel has lost the prize, and thus lost the war. So it goes.
And so does Gintoki, apparently.
No skin off his back, really, because he'd finally be able to eat his lunch in relative peace (maybe after washing his chopsticks... or at least pulling out clean ones...), but... ah, that wasn't to be, yet, either, because there's one final, petulant act left in Gintoki yet.
The temptation to give the desk an extra little tilt (it was a little wobbly, unfortunately) to send the bento careening off the edge was real. It would surely shock his annoying classmate, and give him ample excuse to straight punch him in his retreating back, but...
Well that would be such a travesty.
He was hungry, after all.
So he'll put on a fake-shocked expression, and a fake-relieved one right after.]
Later, ochintoki-san.
[Ah- but would that make Gin win the dick measuring contest this time? Ah well.]