fic post: "Mornspare" (hot fuzz)

[phosfate]

Title: Mornspare
Fandom: Hot Fuzz. For zeddish's "I think we all need to just sit down and fucking smile" fluff challenge.
Rating: PG for the cussin'. Actually there may not be cussing in this. I'm not reading it again to check. It's morning, and they haven't had their tea, and it takes a while to work up to really good cussing.
Summary: Bob Walker uses voicemail. Shaka, when the walls fell.
Author's Notes: There's a bit in "Five Things that Never Happened in Sandford, Gloucestershire" where Bob Walker tells Nicholas and Danny that "Argrafollyerbs." They look at him blankly. I knew exactly what "Argrafollyerbs" meant when I wrote it. By the time the story got to final draft I had no idea at all.
Disclaimer: Narrrrrr, Hoffuzznahmeyne. Sroagsfuzz, anegarnseymanallmayid.



"Agrafollyerbs. Argrafollyerbs."

Inspector Nicholas Angel sat at his desk, head in his hands, morning tea untouched.

"Argrafollyerbs," he murmured. He stared at the telephone.

Danny Butterman wandered in. "You what?"

"I got a voicemail from Bob Walker."

"Yeah?"

"'Morning, Inspector, it's Bob Walker, argrafollyerbs.'"

"Oh."

"Actually it was, 'Mornsparesbobwarr, argra--'"

"'--follyerbs,'" they said together.

"I...don't know what argrafollyerbs means."

"Ah."

"I don't suppose you...?"

Danny shook his head.

"Argrafollyerbs," said Nicholas.

"Argrafollyerbs," said Danny. "I'm going to...follyerbs."

"Follyerbs seems to be the tricky bit. I'm going on the assumption that it wasn't some sort of emergency, since it wasn't, for example, 'Oh dear Jesus send help, argrafollyerbs.' Or 'Argrafollyerbs' with gunfire in the background."

"Yeah," Danny agreed.

"Argrafollyerbs," said Nicholas.

"Argrafollyerbs," said Danny.

"I'm gonna...fool your herbs."

"P'rhaps he's confessing he's some sort of criminal mastermind. He's Keyser Söze!"

Nicholas glared at him.

"Or not," said Danny.

"I'm gonna fold your bees."

Doris Thatcher poked her head in the door. "We havin' the morning thingy, Inspector?"

***

Five minutes later, Angel's office was filled to capacity with puzzled, pacing officers.

"Our grateful...yerbs," said Andy Wainwright.

"Yes, grab hold of your balls," said Andy Cartwright.

"I'm going to...flood all Europe," said Tony Fisher.

"He's not a supervillain," Danny objected.

"Isn't he?" Tony replied. "How well do any of us really know him?"

"He's my godfather," said Doris.

"My Mum used to go out with him," said Andy Cartwright.

"He taught me how to drive," said Andy Wainwright.

"All right, all right." Tony raised a hand in surrender. "But other than that..."

"Our great folly...erbs," said Nicholas.

"Inspector, don't go before we share our first sweet, tender kissOW!" A bin glanced off Andy Wainwright's head and clattered to the floor. "Who threw that?" Wainwright rubbed his head and looked cross.

"Nice one," Danny told Nicholas.

Nicholas examined his fingernails with great interest.

"I'm grateful you're...'erberts," said Doris.

"Argh, raffle yarbles," sad Andy Cartwright.

"What is this obsession with wedding tackle?" Wainwright asked him.

Cartwright shrugged.

"I'm going rafting, you...yerbs," said Tony.

"Our graft...no, that's going nowhere," said Danny.

"Our gravelly arbors?" Nicholas offered.

"I'll grab the orbs," said Andy Cartwright.

"Ah, grateful you're boss," said Andy Wainwright. "No, that can't be it."

"Yes, gravel your beds," said Danny. "Does Bob keep fish?"

"Agra fall ere years," said Tony.

"Agra?" Doris asked him.

"I think it's in India," Tony replied.

"What, he's Nostradamus?"

"Actually," Angel said, "Agra fell in..."

Everyone was staring at him.

"Kipling wrote about it in...oh, never mind."

The door opened once more. "Morrn!"

"Bob!" said everyone.

"Ar," said Bob, and started for the kettle.

"Wait!" Nicholas said.

"Ar?"

There was a very long pause. Then..."Argra...follyerbs?" Angel asked hesitantly.

The rest of the squad looked expectant.

Bob nodded. "Ar," he said, and went to get a cup of tea.

Nicholas folded his arms. "Well, thank heaven that's settled."

The rest of the squad threw small objects at him.


Thanks to: puipui, dr_tectonic, and crantz for "Inspector, don't go before we share our first sweet, tender kiss."

Comments

[alpha-orionis-v.livejournal.com]

I find that every time I re-read something I wrote that had Walker talking, I completely forgot what it was he was meant to be saying.


That man is such a pest. ♥

[annlarimer.livejournal.com]

Yeah, but dogs like him, so he must be okay.