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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Contest · #1089128
An important decision is hampered by the voices in his head [Dialogue 500 Contest Entry]
Entry for "The Dialogue 500 Contest
Prompt:
You are split - two people(or more) - like Gollum of LOTR - yin and yang - good and evil. It is an internal dialogue, but each character is as real as if it were two different people(or more) talking.
Word Count: 500 exactly

*****


“Like, I think you know what you want, Ricky.”

“Yer talkin’ shite, Miranda! Ricky cant desoid jest like tha’!”

“Sure, he can! You should have, like, more faith in him or something.”

“I dinnae why he even has ye insoid ‘is ‘ead! Yer nothin’ but a teenager whose lost ‘er way out of Malibu!”

“You know, you can, like, insult me all you want, Shorty, but we’ll find out who Ricky, like, really listens to.”

“Who’re ye callin’ ‘shorty’, ye li’l runt! Ricky’s not gonna listen to a clueless wan like ye!”

“Whatever. C’mon, Rickster, don’t, like, listen to this silly little unicorn here.”

“It’s Leprechaun, ye culchie!

“Whatev.”

“Listen ‘ere, Ricky, m’ boy. Dont be doiving in jest like tha’ on this. Ye've gotta think this over.”

“Um, I think that chick is, like, getting really impatient…”

“Who cares? It’s Ricky whose gonna be livin’ with the effects of this decision, isn’t he?”

“I’d have to agree with Seamus, Miranda.”

“Oh, great…Professor Smarty Pants decides to, like, come out from hiding.”

“Appreciate yer confidence, Albert. I’m glad tha’ I’m not the only one who thinks Ricky sh’d mull this decision over.”

“Ricky has never achieved proficiency in making expedient decisions.”

“Well, I’m sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that we’re always arguing inside his head.”

“There you are, Linda! I was, like, being bullied by these men.”

“This doesn’t involve ye, Linda. There’s no math 'ere. Go back t’ where y' were!”

“I’m not just used for math, Little Man. I can have an input in this as well.”

“Yes, my dear, Linda. However, I do not think that Ricky will benefit greatly from a hormonal personality in this moment.”

“Who are you calling hormonal?! How would you like it if I bitch-slapped you right now, huh?!”

“…I rest my case.”

“Chill out, Linda. It’s not gonna, like, help Ricky make this decision if you’re all witchy and stuff.”

“Listen here, little girl! I’m gonna take that mastercard of yours and slice your pretty little—”

“Um…”

Whisht, ye rotten women! He’s ‘bout t' speak—”

“Go on, Rickster. You can do it. Nothing to be afraid of…”

“Um…”

“Make a damn decision, you worthless sack of— !!”

“Quitcher hollerin’, wench!”

“Um…”

“Oh, my. This is quite the veritable quandary for Ricky.”

“No one is, like, impressed with your vocalu--, um, vobacu--, er, big words right now, Mr. Intelligent.”

“Quiet, ye gobshites!

“Um, yes. I’ll have the number three combo, please.”

“You did it! Woo-hoo! Way to go, Ricky!”

“Thar’s m’ boy!”

“This is such a triumphant moment.”

“Finaflippinly, you spineless bag of—”

“Do you want that megasized, sir?”

“Argh!”

“Oh, dear.”

“Blimey, lassie, didja really hafta ask ‘im anuther question?”

“Like, here we go again…”
© Copyright 2006 Sam N. Yago (jonsquared at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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