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“God, I’m so bored!” Rick paced around the dingy little living room while the others collapsed together on the worn couch, each respectively staring into the blackness of the telly “Nothing interesting ever happens around here…”
“Shut up you poof!” Vyvyan said in his typical manner, holding a glass bottle and looked as if he could hit Rick over the head with it at any moment.
“Well what are we going to do then Vyvyan? Any suggestions? Probably not! Because you people are all just so boring. We never have any fun around here.”
“Well, I was out renting some nasty videos today, and the clerk threw in a couple American programs, you know I think he was just trying get rid of them-”
“Have we got a video then?!” Rick butted in.
“Oh… we’ve got a video?” Neil continued in his depressing tone.
“YES, we’ve got a bloody video!”
“Listen, to pass the time, why don't we have a watch of those American programs?” Mike announced as if it was a new idea, and suddenly everyone was convinced, since he was the only one each of the housemates would actually listen to. Rick took it upon himself to load the tape.
“MASH? Sounds poofy to me! I mean, what are you even mashing!? Right Vyvyan?”
“No Rick, me and Michael were saying how it sounds quite interesting.” It always put Rick off when Vyvyan was like this, which was nearly all the time, because there was nothing they could agree on.
Finally after an excessive amount of dispute, they put on the tape and retreated to the couch. The tape began playing and Rick’s face dropped as soon as the intro began.
“War?! Is this war I see? Propaganda I say! They’re all fascists I bet! Starting wars… influencing youth… I hope you’re happy, Thatcher!” Rick rose from his lonely, albeit rickety, chair and began pacing around the telly, mumbling something about ‘those damn nationalists!’, gesturing towards the telly and gripping his hair like he genuinely can’t wrap his head around it.
“Oh well Rick man, this actually isn’t Thatcher you know, cause like it's American…” Neil began, before being abruptly shushed by Mike and Vyvyan, who were trying to watch the video. They didn’t know quite what was going on, but it entertained them nonetheless.
—-
“Man I don’t get these American programs at all… like they’re all just violence this, oh violence that! Like oh would you help do this thing? Oh no don’t shoot me man.. heavy…” Neil drones, turning his head expectantly to his flatmates to have a similar comment (and he was right). Rick, seemingly having not heard Neil, or chose to ignore him, suddenly pipes up.
“God I just don’t get these American programs! It’s all violence this, violence bloody that!” Rick waves his hands about, rolling his eyes at the telly.
“Yeah I’ll tell you what, it’s bad upbringing, that’s what it is!” Mike wisely chimes, the other flatmates nod their heads, except for Vyvyan.
“Well peace is poof-y and boring, this is more interesting!” Rick returns the snide look that was purposefully shot his way, desperately trying not to give Vyvyan the reaction he wants.
“Well anyway it’s facism! This video is BLATANT propaganda and I’ll have to keep it to burn it at the next Anarchists Society meeting” Rick tried to continue his sentence but got lost looking at a young Alan Alda, who had suddenly taken the close-up. He walks closer to the video box, initially to take out the video, but he stops and stares at the telly. Mike steps in between him and the video box quickly.
“Now listen, Rick! You burn that tape and you may as well slap me and call me Stephen Fry! Because I’ll leave this household faster than you can say ‘Quite Interesting’! “. Rick recoils in offence at the statement, although he didn’t know what that show was. He thought about Mike’s business connections to have known about an unaired show.
“Okay well maybe I won’t burn it… but YOU’LL see! This tape is pure homose- conservative propaganda!” Rick leaps back into his chair, sitting eagerly, not to admire how surgeon scrubs suddenly make men a degree attractive, but ready to point at something that could come across as facism.
—-
As the episode continued, the four flatmates slipped more to the edge of their chairs. Ruddy heck! This Pierce guy sure would do a lot for his friend! Is it his friend? Running to the airport in a race against the clock to see him off?
“What so, is this guy a poof?” Vyvyan yells, mentally (and physically, later) driving a nail into Rick’s brain. The others turn to him, each with different expressions. Rick, absolutely shocked at the statement, and so what if he was a poof anyway? Neil, completely indifferent, as per usual. And Mike, well you can’t really tell behind his sunglasses, but it was probably amusement. “What? I’m making an observation. This sissy drove all the way to the airport to see his ‘FRIEND’ off, missed the flight, and drank about it for a week! Sounds pretty girly to me!” Vyvyan raises his arms defensively, but nobody argues with him. Not even Rick, who's beginning to empathise with the character.
Besides, Rick thought, he can’t be a poof, since I’d do all this anyway! Rick believed he was a nice person, and all of this was just things a nice person does. He began putting himself in the shoes of Hawkeye. Maybe he would drink for a week too if, oh I don’t know, Vyvyan went off without a word. And maybe he would cry at night if, for example, Vyvyan was his ‘partner’ (not partner like ROMANTIC, partner like in crime!) and had to leave the country entirely, leaving him alone with some new MELVIN. And also it is really nice and friendly to cry over someone you love leaving you-
Love?
Rick unknowingly stood up as he realised what he said (or rather thought), drawing the heads of his flatmates.
“What? Can’t handle the shooting, you big girl?” Vyvyan cockily comments. Rick immediately sat down, shaking his head. He tried opening his mouth but he couldn’t find the words to defend himself. Rick always found himself gagged when Vyvyan called him a girl.
He sat there, barely paying any attention to the telly now, pondering about what he just thought. It was a slip of the tongue! The mind tongue… I was just thinking about how the man and the other man were close and it was almost like love, completely unrelated to me and Vyvyan’s relationship! Comparing us wasn’t meant to be like that, was it? Media is fake and so are thoughts! The governments CONTROLLING our thoughts- Rick stopped himself in the middle of his tirade. His flatmates suddenly laugh heartily at a joke told in the program, and Vyvyan especially catches his eye.
BESIDES there's nothing even REMOTELY attractive about him. He’s spotty and pale and boney and weirdly muscular…
“Oh I get it! Like knockers, right! HAHA!” Vyvyan barked at the telly. Rick began thinking about how he’d never heard Vyvyan’s voice in a volume below a shout. He wondered what it would sound like, low and soft. Maybe saying something soothing like ‘It’s okay Rick, I don’t think you’re actually a girl’, ‘You really are actually cool for being a sociology major’, or maybe something like ‘I know you’ve had a long day, so I’ve made you tea and biscuits, and we can cuddle up all nice-
THIS IS GETTING ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS.
Rick shoots up from his chair, avoiding direct eye contact with Vyvyan who had an expression only comparable to a baboon.
“WOW LOOK AT THE TIME IT'S 10PM! WE SURE ARE REBELS GUYS, I THINK I'M GOING TO PACK IT IN I HAVE A LECTURE TOMORROW, GOODNIGHT”. He blurts whilst running away, leaving the flatmates in a confused silence. His room was damp, mouldy, and his safe space.
Rick slammed the door and hurriedly jumped on his bed, clutching his teddy bears (although one had a weird wet spot?).
After a few moments of rocking back and forth, Rick arose from his stingy mattress and made his way to a slightly discoloured floorboard in his room. He looks back and forth, ensuring no one is around, then lifts it, revealing a damp and ruined book. The words ‘RICK’S DIARY; DO NOT TUCH’ were barely visible on the front anymore.
Clutching his diary, Rick sunk back into his bed. He began to write;
deer diary,
another sad old day for poor old ricky. when will it ever go ricky’s way! i think the world hates me. no one ever wants to ask me about my day. its almost as if no one cares about me, which is completely and utterly insane! how could no one care about ME? i’m the PEOPLE’S POET! i’m their savi
Rick was cut off by an aggressive banging at his door. He quickly slid his diary underneath his pillow. He stood up as he saw that stupid punk standing in his doorframe.
“Look at you SISSY! Sulking in your room! I bet you were writing in that girly diary of yours!” Vyvyan’s voice blasted at him.
“How do yo- I DO NOT HAVE A DIARY VYVYAN!” Rick was always poor at defending himself.
“Yes you do! Cuz’ you’ve got all those girly feelings!”
“I do NOT!”
Rick slammed the door, immediately regretting he had done that.
He leaped back onto his bed, pulling the diary back out and continuing to write;
always trying to torment me! but i suppose… he was checking on me. i guess he just wanted to know what i was doing. maybe he does care about me. he was thinking about me. i was thinking about him too to be fair… because we’re friends. he remembered to come and check on me. he remembered me. vyvyan remembered ME! vyvyan thinks about ME! maybe… vyvyan could even love like ME!
Rick sighed, closing his diary.
I wonder if he’s still out there… he thought to himself.
I hope he’s still thinking about me.