Howard slapped the Old Spice on his cheeks, then for good measure slapped some on the bald spot on his head. He put on his best tropical shirt, then gave himself a thumbs up in the mirror. "Yeah, you still got it." Pause. "Though you could always use more of it."
He then walked out of the bathroom, then went into the kitchen, washed his hands again to avoid accidentally flavoring the food with Old Spice, then put the roast pork, poi, steamed vegetables and a tropical fruit salad on the table. He also put out some roasted potatoes and sweet potatoes as well. "Woo," said Howard, wiping his brow. "That's just too much damn work." Then he looked at his music collection. "Hmmm, how about some Barry White?"
Howard however lost himself to another song that went something like this:
"I believe in miracles Where ya' from you sexy thing"
Cough, cough, coughed someone.
Howard shut off the mp3 player and looked to see it was Zechs, up and about with just a few bandages here and there. Howard noticed the puzzled look on Zechs' face and laughed nervously at being caught rocking back and forth to the music. "Just listening to the oldies. Want dinner?"
"I'm starving," said Zechs.
Throughout dinner, he and Zechs talked about mecha, war, mecha, politics, mecha, pilots, mecha, women, mecha, food and mecha. How do I bring this up, thought Howard. Ah, hell, just say it out loud. "Are you currently involved with someone?"
Zechs spat out his poi. "Why?"
"Oh, I don't know. A mad scientist occasionally gets lonely. I wouldn't want discourage any feelings of gratitude or anything like that if it would lead to something possibly happening."
"I'm sorry. I'm grateful but... " Zechs then had a coughing fit.
"It's because I'm grey and bald, huh?" Howard's shoulders sagged.
"Well, that's part of it," said Zechs, thinking, There's other stuff but it would be too mean to say them out loud. "I already have someone. This special someone is like that rare Japanese beef called Wagyu where the cow is massaged and fed beer. It virtually melts on your tongue and all it needs for seasoning is a little salt and pepper. Once you have tasted Wagyu, everything is... "
"Like a McDonald's hamburger that's been under a heat lamp for hours."
"Well... yes. I'm sorry, Howard."
"Well, I wasn't always this grungy looking. You could even say I was once good looking." Howard took out a picture of himself from decades earlier. The man in the picture had a full head of brown hair, a pleasant but unremarkable face but a nice build. He was also wearing a tropical shirt.
"Well, unless you have a youth formula, I'm afraid it won't work," sighed Zechs, who thought, Well, he's telling the truth about not being bad looking. Back then.
"That's OK."
"Howard? I know this is really atrocious timing but can I use your computer to call a friend of mine?"
"Who?"
"Her name is Lucrecia Noin."
Oh, I've heard of her, thought Howard. "Is she that special someone?"
"No."
"Cool, once you're done, let me on to talk to her!"
"HEY!" yelled Zechs. He was so peeved, his mouth temporarily turned into a beak.
There was a glint in Howard's eyes under those sunglasses of his and a smile on his lips. "Hey, you never know. She might be in the mood for some hamburger."
The End
(:./mk/mac1)
