Phean
Sergeant
This is part of a short story I am writing. Looking for a humor check from the most hostile (and literate) audience I can think of. Note: the errors about the Ramayana are intentional, I just want to see if I should keep, scrap, or expand on this section.
Will clicked his phone closed and looked at his alarm clock. Were they totally insane? Who schedules an assignment and doesn’t tell the writer? Why was he still asking these kinds of questions? He groaned and climbed out of bed… fully clothed. It was this particular brand of shenanigans that got him into the habit of sleeping fully clothed in the first place. Grabbing his ipod and a duffle bag he selected a particularly abrasive punk album and turned it up, and as he started jamming apparently random clothing into the duffle, it dawned on him… What, pray tell, would I even wear in India? As the vision of him dying of hypothermia in cargo shorts as shirpas looked on and laughed faded from his head, he wandered through the kitchen poured a cup of coffee. Failing to ask himself why there was fresh coffee at three in the morning, he belligerently wandered into the office of the apartment, where the question was answered by his Marcus, his roommate, furiously tapping keys in what was yet another all night online gaming marathon for him.
“Really dude? When do you sleep?” Will didn’t even look, he just kept going, booting his laptop for his own quest. What clothing will prevent death in rural mountainous India?
“Sleep is for the weak! This is the third time we’ve creamed this boss tonight…”
“Isn’t there some kind of rule against that?”
“Yep… but knowing network administrators does come with perks. Wait, what are you doing?”
“India… need to find out what to wear.”
“…What?” Marcus stopped and looked over shaking his head in disbelief.
“Navi Mumbai… They are sending me to Navi Mumbai. Some wanker claims to have found the sacred herb that revived some dude in the old Vedic texts. A guru is claiming that it’s real.” Will kept clicking and looking for current weather reports, he had one hour before he had to be in a cab to the airport.
“…What?” Marcus was now openly laughing, after a moment he calmed himself. “Wait, which herb? Soma? Didn’t the priests wipe that off the face of the earth when commoners started using it for recreational purposes?”
“No…” Will looked back down at his phone, scrolling through his assignment background “Sanjivani, the one from the Ramayana.”
“Oh yeah! Where that monkey hucks a mountain at that dude? That was badass.”
“Mark…” Will sat down and cupped his face with his hands, an action of frustration commonly known as a ‘facepalm’ “Your simultaneous knowledge of sacred Vedic literature, and ability to describe it as ‘Badass’ in the same sentence… gives my brain dry heaves.”
“Actually, I was trying to make you cry… Jimbophobe said he’d give me three gold if I could make you cry before you got on the plane.”
“Mark… Is your microphone on?” Will asked rubbing his forehead.
“AND webcam!” Marcus smiled gleefully
Will just stared at him through his fingers for a good thirty seconds. His face twitched slightly. “It’s a tropic region. I’m wearing shorts.” He blinked, got up and walked out of the room. Muttering to himself the terrible things he would one day do to his roommate.
“You don’t have the legs for it whitey!” Marcus yelled after a slight pause, waiting for him to leave the room.
“I know where you sleep.” Will bellowed back.
“Bring me something nice?” Marcus chirped in playful response.
Will had returned to his room, long stopped paying attention, and was jamming clothing once again into his black canvas duffle. For the same reason as him sleeping fully clothed, his camera pack was also fully packed and ready for anything, at any given time.
“Really dude? When do you sleep?” Will didn’t even look, he just kept going, booting his laptop for his own quest. What clothing will prevent death in rural mountainous India?
“Sleep is for the weak! This is the third time we’ve creamed this boss tonight…”
“Isn’t there some kind of rule against that?”
“Yep… but knowing network administrators does come with perks. Wait, what are you doing?”
“India… need to find out what to wear.”
“…What?” Marcus stopped and looked over shaking his head in disbelief.
“Navi Mumbai… They are sending me to Navi Mumbai. Some wanker claims to have found the sacred herb that revived some dude in the old Vedic texts. A guru is claiming that it’s real.” Will kept clicking and looking for current weather reports, he had one hour before he had to be in a cab to the airport.
“…What?” Marcus was now openly laughing, after a moment he calmed himself. “Wait, which herb? Soma? Didn’t the priests wipe that off the face of the earth when commoners started using it for recreational purposes?”
“No…” Will looked back down at his phone, scrolling through his assignment background “Sanjivani, the one from the Ramayana.”
“Oh yeah! Where that monkey hucks a mountain at that dude? That was badass.”
“Mark…” Will sat down and cupped his face with his hands, an action of frustration commonly known as a ‘facepalm’ “Your simultaneous knowledge of sacred Vedic literature, and ability to describe it as ‘Badass’ in the same sentence… gives my brain dry heaves.”
“Actually, I was trying to make you cry… Jimbophobe said he’d give me three gold if I could make you cry before you got on the plane.”
“Mark… Is your microphone on?” Will asked rubbing his forehead.
“AND webcam!” Marcus smiled gleefully
Will just stared at him through his fingers for a good thirty seconds. His face twitched slightly. “It’s a tropic region. I’m wearing shorts.” He blinked, got up and walked out of the room. Muttering to himself the terrible things he would one day do to his roommate.
“You don’t have the legs for it whitey!” Marcus yelled after a slight pause, waiting for him to leave the room.
“I know where you sleep.” Will bellowed back.
“Bring me something nice?” Marcus chirped in playful response.
Will had returned to his room, long stopped paying attention, and was jamming clothing once again into his black canvas duffle. For the same reason as him sleeping fully clothed, his camera pack was also fully packed and ready for anything, at any given time.
