Work Text:
"Argh!" Cries Neil. "Argh! Argh! Jesus! Fuck! Ow! Shitting! Fuck!"
Patrick jumps back as Neil crumples to the floor. "It's not my fault!"
But nobody pays him any attention. There's a crash of dishes as Tieria drops what he was holding and runs to Neil's side.
"Neil?" Tieria's face is pale. "Neil, are you ok?"
Neil just groans.
"It wasn't my fault!" Says Patrick again, the tongs in his hand flailing even more wildly than they had been a minute before.
"Put those down and shut the hell up." Commands Halle. He walks over and crouches down to take a look at Neil, using deft fingers to pry Neil's hands away from his face. "Well fuck me," he says after a moment's examination, "I think we need to go to the fucking hospital."
"The hospital?" Asks Tieria, his face growing even paler.
Halle grins. "Don't you worry yourself about it, Princess. This fucker's not gonna die yet." And he dispatches Al to go ring for an ambulance.
Silence reigns after that, at least, that is, until Lyle gets back from his trip to buy more beer. "What the hell happened here?" He asks.
Kati stamps on Patrick's foot the moment it looks like he's about to start ranting again. "Neil got hit in the eye with the barbeque tongs." She says.
Lyle stares at his brother in disbelief. "You lucky bastard!"
