Protein Perfidy
Author's Note: I just finished watching the movie, and this is just a simple story that I had to write after seeing the part where Spike comments on the lack of protein in their diet, and cracks some heinously bad joke. So, to go along with his heinously bad joke, a heinously bad fic. Really.
**
Spike glared at the steaming bowl of noodles placed high above on the table next to him, pondering momentarily if he could steal it, have it for himself. He could almost imagine the meat in his mouth, the way it was juicy and tender and full of protein.
He shifted a bit in his seat on the floor, feeling his muscles starting to protest at the stress of having to sit cross-legged, Indian style for so long under so much pressure. As if adding to his misery, the bowl on the table next to him emitted a sudden burst of aroma and steam, making Spike glance at it again before looking around at the eager spectators who were seated in chairs around him and the bowl.
Their trip to the market had been a usual one, with Faye opting to stay behind and tend to her beauty, and Ed still roaming her computer world with such intensity that she couldn't be persuaded to move. Jet had, as usual, dragged a reluctant Spike, and overly eager Ein with him. They had trailed the rows of stands offering juicy vegetables, fruits, and even a few meat-venders until they had reached their usual grocery store.
The Martian Convenience Market.
The place was shabby, with an old lady behind the counter and a small fan blowing at her, making her gray wisps fly about her wrinkled and haggard face. There were isles with racks full of cheap, packaged or canned food that Jet had ignored. He had gone to the end and dumped a dozen or two plain Noodle Snacks for lunch, dinner and breakfast into the red shopping basket that Spike had picked up on the way in.
And he had turned and was about to leave, his eyes still fixated on the door and not on any food items to his left and right when Spike and Ein had spotted an entire rack of Diary Noodles which promised MEAT IN EVERY DELICIOUS BITE. And Spike had picked up nonchalantly, glancing suspiciously at Jet before flipping the noodle packet around, his mouth becoming an impressed 'O' as he read the protein contents.
Ein had tugged at his pants, and Spike had looked down at the dog. Their glances met, and they exchanged two very similar glances. And they both knew immediately what to do, and acted in perfect synchronization, thoughts of protein making them best friends for that conspiring moment. Spike nonchalantly dropped the protein packet into the basket that he was holding, and began to follow Jet, Ein close at his heels.
Jet was waiting patiently for them at the counter, flipping through a magazine when he caught sight of the two approaching friends. He told Spike to slide the basket across the counter, and Spike obeyed, offering tentatively to Jet that he would pay for once.
That was the one mistake he made in their entire scheme. Jet immediately rummaged through the contents and found the offending protein filled packet, and was about to go and return it when Jet and Ein joined forces in one last attack.
The two of them had worked miracles, Ein looking up wistfully at his master, Spike cooing promises to be more attentive, help around with the Bebop, and even cook if necessary, and Jet had given in, muttering under his breath as he handed in the cash and taken that protein.
When they had returned to the Bebop, Faye impatiently awaiting their return since they had lunch with them, and Ed looking out the window with equal impatience, Spike had announced the arrival of the Protein Filled Noodles different from their usual Plain Noodle Snack, and the members of Bebop gathered around.
Spike had read aloud the instructions, once, and then twice to make sure, and the group proceeded to dutifully boil water for three minutes. Then, they watched in eager fascination as the noodles were dropped in and unraveled from their packaged form. The bits of meat that had been woven into the web of noodles came loose as well, floating pleasantly in the water as it turned softer, more tender and emitted a wonderful aroma that filled the kitchen in the Bebop. So they waited--Ein, Ed, Faye, Jet. and Spike--and they had heard their stomachs growling in anticipation at the rivulets of hunger that the smell had evoked in them, and they had watched as Jet carefully got the noodles out of the water and placed it into a bowl.
That was when the trouble had started. There was only one bowl. They could share, but that meant splitting it up into such meager quantities that each person would only get a few noodle strings and a small piece of meat. And that, in Spike's and Ein's definition was a 'nono.' Protein, Spike had said (accompanied with Ein's encouraging and agreeing bark), was to be savored wholesomely. Not in bits and pieces
So, they had placed it in the middle of the table in their "living room" and had sat down on the floor around it, each contemplating a fair way to take the noodle bowl for themselves.
And Ed had suggested the one thing that they shouldn't have done but did anyways.
Rocks, Paper, Scissor.
Spike had let out a triumphant cry at that suggestion, knowing full well that his luck had never failed. Jet had covered his face with his hands, while Faye had answered Spike's howl with her own. Ed had bounced around, glad that her idea was being utilized while Ein had submerged himself in canine thought.
They did it as a tournament: Spike vs. Faye being the first pair.Ed vs. Jet being the second.
When the first battle was to take place, the two opponents faced each other, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the table, their fists clenched by their side. Spike had glanced at Faye, noticing the wrinkle in her brow.
"ROCK, PAPER, SCISSOR!" They had glanced at their outstretched hands, and Faye had uttered a cry of defeat, realizing that she had chosen "scissor", and Spike had chosen "rock."
Ed and Jet had a more tight-necked match, with each player choosing "paper" for two rounds in a row and then reverting to "rock" for another two, until Ed decided that she would rather spend her time playing on his computer and left, singing an incoherent song under her breath.
Jet vs. Spike was an easier match, with Spike choosing "scissor" while Jet chose "paper."
But then Ein came into the picture. At first, he had bitten Spike's hand as the lanky man had tried to reach towards the enticing bowl. Then, he barked until Ed came running in and informed them all that Ein wanted to participate and that Ein felt that he deserved the bowl of protein since he was the one who gave Spike the guts to actually convince Jet to buy the noodles.
Thus, the delay, and the reason why the bowl stood serenely on the table, still steaming and still looking enticingly beautiful.
The group had backed away from Rock, Paper, Scissor when Spike had casually pointed out that the mutt had paws, and would not be able to form any "rock," "paper," or "scissor." Now, Ein was looking thoughtfully at Spike, his tail curled up a bit and resting quietly in the subdued atmosphere.
"Rarr!"
"I know, I know. It's my turn," Spike mumbled. His eyes fell on the colorfully lit board with regular squares in front of him, before he pressed the dome-like surface which made the die inside it clatter before coming to a halt.
5. He picked up his flat, blue piece and moved it to the right five squares, gasping in anger and frustration when a snake's head forced him to fall down two entire rows.
"Rarr!" Ein uttered a bark of happiness, and lifted its paw before bringing it down on the dome and making the die clatter again. The die stopped showing a digital '4.' He moved his piece using the tip of nose, and barked happily again as he was allowed to climb up an entire row.
There was utter silence in the Bebop which was only interrupted by the ship's movement in space and the workings of its machines.
"Not fair," Spike interjected, pointing accusingly at the dog and looking towards Ed for an explanation. "The mutt always gets the ladders!"
"He got a snake two seconds ago, Spike," Jet pointed out calmly. Faye nodded in agreement, as did Ed. Spike huffed angrily at their unspoken betrayal.
Ah, yes. Snakes and Ladders. It evokes the best and worst in the best and worst of men.
"Rarr!" The brown-furred dog pinned his human-opponent with a stare. Spike glared back in opposition before pressing the dome again.
'6'. Grinning triumphantly, he moved his piece six squares, his smile fading again when the dog pressed the dome and started to make its way down the last row. Spike's eyes scanned the remainder of his journey to Protein Paradise. Two rows. Two ladders. Two snakes. The chances were low, but there was still that possibility.
Spike pressed the dome again, sweat starting to form on his brow at the mere thought of losing. He was the one who had spotted the noodle packet. He was the one who played the most important role in convincing Jet. It wasn't fair that he was losing a to a dog over something that he rightfully deserved.
'3'. He moved, and glared angrily at the electrically lighted board as if it was the board's fault that he was loosing. The dog barked again, and Spike bit his lip when Ein managed to score yet another '6.' It moved, luckily evading a snake in its path and waited five steps away from the finish which was a bright pink.
Spike heaved a sigh, mentally willing the die to roll to a '4' so that he would be able to climb a ladder and be one row away from finish line. He pressed the dome and the die inside rattled, the digital numbers on each face blurring at its movement. Then it came to a halt.
'3'.
The dark-haired man groaned, throwing back his head and looking at the heavens in need of help. He looked down again and moved the piece as was required, and watched helplessly as Ein pressed the dome and the die rattled.
A '4'. Ein barked wistfully and pushed the piece four pieces using its nose, one step away from the finish. The dog was going to win, and Spike knew it. He half-heartedly pressed the button, and watched as the die halted at a '1' and moved his piece in accordance, climbing the ladder he had been anticipating a turn ago.
The die rattled, and Ein got a '3'. He remained in his position, unable to move one step and claim victory.
The die rattled, and Spike got a '1'. Spike moved.
The die rattled, and Ein got a '5'. He remained in his position, still only a square away from victory.
The die rattled, and Spike got a '1'. He moved.
And Ein managed to get every other possible number except for '1', while Spike continued to trudge slowly towards the finish. One step at a time. The tall man wrinkled his nose at the game's turn of events. It was almost unfair that the Gods would be cruel enough to punish him and make him get constant '1' when he could have used a few higher numbers. But then again, Ein, who needed the '1' was not getting it. There was still a chance. If only...
"Rarr!"
"You're on!" Spike pressed the dome with an almighty 'click' and watched it roll
And roll.
And roll.
And rooooll.
There were a few gasps as the die landed, and there was one strangled cry.
"ONE? A ONE? AGAIN?" Spike glowered at the dog and the offending board-game, enraged at his fate, causing Ein to jump up in fear but then resettle again when he realized that Spike was not rallied up enough to swing a punch at him. "All right, you mutt, why don't you have a shot?"
Ein scoffed, the sound seeming like he was regurgitating something, but serenely pressed the dome that held the die. And they all watched it roll, Faye leaning in slightly, a few strands of her black hair falling unnoticed over her shoulder. Jet leaned back, crossing his arms to steady his beating heart, while Ed pressed in closer, touching Ein slightly as if trying to reassure her canine friend.
And it rolled.
And rolled.
And roooolled.
There were a few gasps as the die landed, and there was a second strangled cry.
"ONE? A ONE?"
Ein barked happily, bouncing up onto the table and smelling its prize with a victorious grin that bared rows of teeth. Spike stood up, huffing angrily, feeling his heart beating erratically at the serious crime being committed in front of him.
What had he done? What had he done to deserve such a fate? Nothing. He had been an honest, hard-working, religious (let's pretend for a while, for Spike's sake), and even tolerant bounty hunter who rarely caused any trouble, yet alone damage to his surroundings.
And now this.
He was watching a mutt eating away at his protein. The same mutt who he thought had been his best ally, his closest buddy only that morning.
"Traitor," he muttered. He stood up, feeling his body shiver at the anger he was feeling, and turned away from the awful sight of a mutt digging its filthy nose into a bowl of perfectly boiled and cooked protein.
The four humans watched as the canine munched down fat, juicy noodles, a few bits dangling enticingly from its mouth, leaving the pieces of meet behind. Ein glanced around at the humans before picking up one piece of meat, throwing it into the air and catching it expertly with its mouth and chewing it.
Its jaw worked up and down as it ate, and the four humans could almost hear the meat being crunched and tasted. They held their breaths, gulping down balls of saliva, the sweat trickling down their foreheads as they watched the seventeen pieces of meet being consumed.
And then when the bowl was empty, Ein turned around in a circle, and plopped down comfortably onto the table, using its crossed feet as a cushion before descending into a peaceful slumber.
Silence.
"I guess we have to find something else to eat, huh?" Jet ventured to break the silence.
Three heads nodded, eyes still glued to the empty bowl. Spike was looking rather vacant, a trace of hunger and frustration still etched onto his features. Faye leaned back, releasing the breath she had been holding and wiping away the sweat that had coagulated on her pale skin above her eyes. Ed stood up, patting Ein fondly on the head before floating away to her corner of the Bebop.
"Who's up for some noodles?"
End of Protein Perfidy