Happy Birthday, Fly!

Ginger: What’s that?

Ruby: It’s a cake for Fly.

Ginger: Why?

Ruby: You’re kidding, right? It’s his birthday. That’s why you’re here. You brought him a present and everything.

Ginger: Yeah, but I thought we would get a cake from a place…where you get cakes…

Ruby: A place where you get cakes? You mean a bakery?

Ginger: No, that’s not it…bakeries don’t put ice cream into cakes.

Ruby: Ah. You do know there’s cakes other than ice cream cakes, right?

Ginger: Yes. They’re a band.

Ruby: …yes, Cake is a band…and there’s ice cream cakes…and there’s cakes without ice cream that do not sing.

Ginger: Those last cakes sound boring.

Ruby: Would it help if I put sprinkles on the top of the cake?

Ginger: Would the sprinkles spell something out on top of the cake that doesn’t sing?

Ruby: They could if I had a stencil…

Ginger: But you don’t have a stencil.

Ruby: Would it help if I made a stencil for Fly’s cake?


Ruby: Probably not.

Ginger: You don’t have to say who bet you.

Ruby: I’m still going with no.

Ginger: What will the stencil say?

Ruby: Probably HAPPY BIRTHDAY FLY. It’s pretty much everything we need the stencil to say.

Ginger: And, therefore, the sprinkles.

Ruby: Exactly.

Ginger: I bet Fly appreciates how much effort you put into the cake. And the stencil.

Ruby: I bet he does, too.

Ginger: I bet that he appreciates it so much he brings you flowers every day for the next week.

Ruby: I doubt that.

Ginger: He should. Just because you’re married now doesn’t mean he can’t still woo you.

Ruby: “Woo?” Okay. Hand over the trashy romance novel. You’re cut off for a while.

Ginger: It wasn’t a trashy romance novel. It was Leverage. I own the DVD’s, you know.

Ruby: Oh. I know. Look, Ginger, picking a pocket, conning someone, setting off minor explosions…these things are not “wooing.”

Ginger: It is if Eliot Spencer is the one doing these things. He has a gift.

Ruby: I am not getting into this with you. Again.

Ginger: What are you talking about?

Ruby: You get hung up on fictional characters all too easily – you told me that when you were a kid, you were crazy about Faceman from The A-Team, then Darien Fawkes from The Invisible Man and then for the longest time Mal Reynolds was the perfect man until you owned all DVD sets of Leverage. Now it’s Eliot Spencer. I’m not getting involved in this.

Ginger: Okay, first of all? Mal is the perfect man. In the future. Several centuries in the future. There’s no competing with him.

Ruby: Uh-huh. Sure.

Ginger: Next? Eliot is the perfect man in THIS century. He is loving, caring, attentive to details, strong, intelligent, good in a fight, recognizes and drives a SWEET car…

Ruby: Has long hair that blows ever so romantically in the wind – just like on the cover of that trashy romance in your purse…

Ginger: Hey. He wears the hair well. He knows how to wear the hair. He wears it with confidence and that is, like, 90% of the important thing with hair that long.

Ruby: Whatever you say, Ginger.

Ginger: Hey, when you have locked eyes with him at a concert and he is singing the song directly to you–

Ruby: For the twentieth time, you were too far back in the crowd for Christian Kane to know you were under the impression he was “locking eyes” with you.


Ruby: Right…

Ginger: Anyway, when you’ve locked eyes with him – you know. It’s the intensity in his eyes. It’s the confidence. It’s the sheer…power…of his stare.

Ruby: Yup.

Ginger: You know in those brief moments that feel like an eternity of blissful wonder and perfection that this is a Man. A man who will move mountains for your smile…

Ruby: Which he’d have to for you to smile…

Ginger: A man who will search the ends of the earth if you suddenly disappear…

Ruby: I guess it’s a good thing you tweet at him once a week, then, huh? He knows you’re safe and sound if you can tweet that you recently re-watched that one episode of “Angel” where he sings again.

Ginger: A man who can take a blow to the head by a carnival ride and still come out on top with just a personal nurse to tend to his wounds…as long as you’re safe and happy.

Ruby: You’re still not over that carnival ride thing, are you?

Ginger: They hit him in the FACE with a CARNIVAL RIDE. And he STILL WON THE FIGHT, using his awesome Jedi-Ninja Mind Tricks and Skills. It’s not something you get over quickly, Ruby.

Ruby: Yeah. Okay. How does this look?

Ginger: It just says HAPPY BIRTHDAY FLY.

Ruby: Yes.

Ginger: I thought it would say more.

Ruby: Like what?

Ginger: Like…I don’t know…something about hedgehogs or snowflakes or anesthesiology.

Ruby: Where would I get an idea to put any of that into this cake stencil design?

Ginger: I just figured that while I babble about fictional characters I’d date you normally zone out and make grocery lists or something.

Ruby: Why would you think that?

Ginger: Because that’s what I do when I babble about fictional characters I’d date. I just solved the mystery in the novel I’m reading, redesigned my CD case’s organization and texted my brother four times with quotes from The Boondock Saints.

Ruby: I did wonder why you have your phone out…

Ginger: Yeah, he says hi, by the way. And asked that you bring some paper towels when you come over for the party next week.

Ruby: Okay, let me just add that to the grocery list…

Ginger: You actually listen to me when I babble?

Ruby: We’re not all A.D.D., Ginger. And sometimes you quiz me.

Ginger: Yes, but not about crazy things like this. I mean…how would I date a fictional character?

Ruby: Wait – he’s the perfect man, but you wouldn’t marry him? You’d only date him?

Ginger: Typically, in cases such as the fictional perfect men I’m in love with, they are all living lives of crime. Marriage doesn’t always work out for those guys.

Ruby: Well, at least you’re realistic about your fictional love life.

Ginger: Yeah…if only I could be realistic about my real love life.

Ruby: Your words – not mine.

Ginger: What were my words? I wasn’t paying attention. Also, my brother also just asked if you can bring some garbage bags. Apparently, he can’t get to the store this week.

Ruby: Right…


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