Wilford Warfstache (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cottoncandypink) wrote2018-07-16 07:00 pm
cottoncandypink) wrote2018-07-16 07:00 pm
One of these corrupt motherfuckers was going to be more corrupt than the rest
Wilford didn’t like having other people in his space. But he was doing a lot of things lately that he didn’t like, so what was a team of landscapers tearing up his property? They were a week into a job that was supposed to take two, but at least they left early.
Apparently the terraces Wilford had wanted to tear out were structural. If he wanted to tear them out, he’d have to have an entire new wall built to keep the hill behind him from falling onto his house. Instead, they were able to redistribute some of them, making their angle steeper, but giving him more space on the ground directly outside of the house. It was space he still didn’t know what to do with, but he’d never had a yard before - not since he was a kid. The novelty of it was enough to make him want one. And maybe he would eventually buy a grill and stick it out here.
He kept the dogs inside while the landscapers were working, but they had to go out eventually. It wasn’t his fault they were taking longer than usual to leave. Buster immediately went out to investigate all the people laying huge bricks to build the new retaining walls, while Bailey became very interested in a giant dandelion that had sprouted right on the edge of the cement by the back door. Something about that dandelion sure was bothering her by the way she started barking at it.
“Shut up,” he scolded the puppy.
She kept barking. And barking. And barking. She obviously wasn’t going to stop, so Wilford left her there to go talk to the guy in charge.
“We’ve got one more day on the walls,” the landscaper said when Wilford asked. “Then we can start shaping the main yard. We may have to pour some more concrete to give the tiles an even base.”
Wilford looked at the area he was pointing to. It was going to be about twice the size when they were done with it, which was almost making it worth the hassle.
“You sure about those tiles?” Wilford asked. Buster ambled over and started licking the man’s shoe.
“They’ll look just like stone, but these guys will like it more because it won’t be as hot on their feet.”
“I don’t think he notices,” Wilford said plainly. One dog was being embarrassing, and the other was being annoying as hell. He was surprised everyone hadn’t fled already.
“It’ll also make it a bit cooler to sit out here by the pool.”
Wilford nodded. He’d been told that before, but he still wasn’t completely convinced on that either. Rubber tiles just sounded so cheap and tacky, but this guy wore him down. Wilford would have been happy to just expand the concrete and be done with it. But that was probably why he wasn’t a landscaper.
“I just don’t want it to look like a gym out here.” He’d already picked out the tiles, and knew they weren’t the same ones they used in gyms, but rubber?
He supposed if he hated it, he could always have it torn out again.
“Why don’t we wait until we get to that point to decide how it looks,” the landscaper said.
Wilford could hear the sounds of cleaning up on the hill above him, so he nodded. They were leaving. That’s all he cared about in that moment. As they packed up to leave, Wilford headed back inside, leaving the door open so the dogs could do whatever they wanted. Bailey was still barking at the dandelion, but maybe she’d encourage his neighbours to also leave, so he let her keep going while he went inside to figure out dinner. The dogs got what they always got, though now it took a little more effort. Buster ate anything put in front of him, but Bailey had to be tricked into eating her eggs by grinding up the shell and dusting it over the chicken and tuna on her plate. He was putting more effort into the dogs’ dinner than he’d be putting into his, and the hard part wasn’t even over. As he got ready to tie Buster up to keep him from inhaling everything in sight, his phone chimed. Nichola was texting him, checking in to make sure he hadn’t gone mad or something. Rather than responding directly to let her know he was still breathing, he took a quick video of Bailey barking outside. Nichola would like that. He captioned the video and sent it off, and then went to go grab Buster. He had a leash tied to the handle of the door, to keep Buster from stealing food that wasn’t his. Being tied up meant he was getting fed, which made Buster an excitable ball of energy, which in turn made it nearly impossible to tie him up. Wilford got it eventually though, and then went out to grab Bailey and carry her inside. Her plate got sat on the floor by the sink, well out of Buster’s reach. Trying to keep an eye on Buster at the same time, Wilford dug through the fridge for anything he could eat. He was sick of tofu and rice, so he decided to mix it up. Tofu and noodles. Tofu was still about the only thing soft enough to eat without wanting to die, so his fridge was stuffed with it.
By the time he was done feeding the dogs, he was out of energy for his own meal. It was the most basic fried tofu and black bean paste dish anyone had ever put together, but it was food he knew he could eat. While the noodles quickly boiled, Wilford picked up the dogs’ dishes and untied Buster, letting him run in and out some more. It heated up the house, but it was the best way to run the dogs without leaving.
With the dogs thoroughly distracted with whatever it was dogs did, Wilford took his own meal over to his chair and turned on the news. Some moron was taking a combine harvester through Vinewood, apparently picking a path that would screw up as many peoples’ commutes as possible. It looked like fun. The guys reporting from the news chopper also seemed to think so.
He flipped through channels as he ate, hoping other networks might be covering something nobody else was talking about, but it was all the same. War, monster sightings, political debates. Fucking elections always screwed with the news cycle. Maybe this time, Wilford could screw back. Having nothing to do for a month was getting boring. He needed a project, and there were plenty of sites and blogs out there that documented potential candidates. One of them must have had some dirt Wilford could dig up. It took him about an hour to come up with a shortlist of people he did not want in office anywhere, but by then it was too hot to think. He dropped his plate off at the sink on the way out to gather the dogs back. Buster came running, but Bailey still hadn’t learned English, so he had to go pick her up and carry her back.
If she really did turn out to be the breed people kept saying she was, this was going to become very problematic very quickly.
Once the dogs were inside and the house closed up again, Wilford was able to turn the AC back on. It took a couple minutes, but eventually the temperature started to drop. Even at night, it never seemed to cool down. It was in this one regard that Wilford regretted moving to the West Coast. The weather here sucked.
With everything calmed down and cooling off, Wilford flipped to one of the 24-hour news channels to see if anything interesting would crop up while he started doing some investigating of his own. One of these corrupt motherfuckers was going to be more corrupt than the rest. It was good to have a project again.
Apparently the terraces Wilford had wanted to tear out were structural. If he wanted to tear them out, he’d have to have an entire new wall built to keep the hill behind him from falling onto his house. Instead, they were able to redistribute some of them, making their angle steeper, but giving him more space on the ground directly outside of the house. It was space he still didn’t know what to do with, but he’d never had a yard before - not since he was a kid. The novelty of it was enough to make him want one. And maybe he would eventually buy a grill and stick it out here.
He kept the dogs inside while the landscapers were working, but they had to go out eventually. It wasn’t his fault they were taking longer than usual to leave. Buster immediately went out to investigate all the people laying huge bricks to build the new retaining walls, while Bailey became very interested in a giant dandelion that had sprouted right on the edge of the cement by the back door. Something about that dandelion sure was bothering her by the way she started barking at it.
“Shut up,” he scolded the puppy.
She kept barking. And barking. And barking. She obviously wasn’t going to stop, so Wilford left her there to go talk to the guy in charge.
“We’ve got one more day on the walls,” the landscaper said when Wilford asked. “Then we can start shaping the main yard. We may have to pour some more concrete to give the tiles an even base.”
Wilford looked at the area he was pointing to. It was going to be about twice the size when they were done with it, which was almost making it worth the hassle.
“You sure about those tiles?” Wilford asked. Buster ambled over and started licking the man’s shoe.
“They’ll look just like stone, but these guys will like it more because it won’t be as hot on their feet.”
“I don’t think he notices,” Wilford said plainly. One dog was being embarrassing, and the other was being annoying as hell. He was surprised everyone hadn’t fled already.
“It’ll also make it a bit cooler to sit out here by the pool.”
Wilford nodded. He’d been told that before, but he still wasn’t completely convinced on that either. Rubber tiles just sounded so cheap and tacky, but this guy wore him down. Wilford would have been happy to just expand the concrete and be done with it. But that was probably why he wasn’t a landscaper.
“I just don’t want it to look like a gym out here.” He’d already picked out the tiles, and knew they weren’t the same ones they used in gyms, but rubber?
He supposed if he hated it, he could always have it torn out again.
“Why don’t we wait until we get to that point to decide how it looks,” the landscaper said.
Wilford could hear the sounds of cleaning up on the hill above him, so he nodded. They were leaving. That’s all he cared about in that moment. As they packed up to leave, Wilford headed back inside, leaving the door open so the dogs could do whatever they wanted. Bailey was still barking at the dandelion, but maybe she’d encourage his neighbours to also leave, so he let her keep going while he went inside to figure out dinner. The dogs got what they always got, though now it took a little more effort. Buster ate anything put in front of him, but Bailey had to be tricked into eating her eggs by grinding up the shell and dusting it over the chicken and tuna on her plate. He was putting more effort into the dogs’ dinner than he’d be putting into his, and the hard part wasn’t even over. As he got ready to tie Buster up to keep him from inhaling everything in sight, his phone chimed. Nichola was texting him, checking in to make sure he hadn’t gone mad or something. Rather than responding directly to let her know he was still breathing, he took a quick video of Bailey barking outside. Nichola would like that. He captioned the video and sent it off, and then went to go grab Buster. He had a leash tied to the handle of the door, to keep Buster from stealing food that wasn’t his. Being tied up meant he was getting fed, which made Buster an excitable ball of energy, which in turn made it nearly impossible to tie him up. Wilford got it eventually though, and then went out to grab Bailey and carry her inside. Her plate got sat on the floor by the sink, well out of Buster’s reach. Trying to keep an eye on Buster at the same time, Wilford dug through the fridge for anything he could eat. He was sick of tofu and rice, so he decided to mix it up. Tofu and noodles. Tofu was still about the only thing soft enough to eat without wanting to die, so his fridge was stuffed with it.
By the time he was done feeding the dogs, he was out of energy for his own meal. It was the most basic fried tofu and black bean paste dish anyone had ever put together, but it was food he knew he could eat. While the noodles quickly boiled, Wilford picked up the dogs’ dishes and untied Buster, letting him run in and out some more. It heated up the house, but it was the best way to run the dogs without leaving.
With the dogs thoroughly distracted with whatever it was dogs did, Wilford took his own meal over to his chair and turned on the news. Some moron was taking a combine harvester through Vinewood, apparently picking a path that would screw up as many peoples’ commutes as possible. It looked like fun. The guys reporting from the news chopper also seemed to think so.
He flipped through channels as he ate, hoping other networks might be covering something nobody else was talking about, but it was all the same. War, monster sightings, political debates. Fucking elections always screwed with the news cycle. Maybe this time, Wilford could screw back. Having nothing to do for a month was getting boring. He needed a project, and there were plenty of sites and blogs out there that documented potential candidates. One of them must have had some dirt Wilford could dig up. It took him about an hour to come up with a shortlist of people he did not want in office anywhere, but by then it was too hot to think. He dropped his plate off at the sink on the way out to gather the dogs back. Buster came running, but Bailey still hadn’t learned English, so he had to go pick her up and carry her back.
If she really did turn out to be the breed people kept saying she was, this was going to become very problematic very quickly.
Once the dogs were inside and the house closed up again, Wilford was able to turn the AC back on. It took a couple minutes, but eventually the temperature started to drop. Even at night, it never seemed to cool down. It was in this one regard that Wilford regretted moving to the West Coast. The weather here sucked.
With everything calmed down and cooling off, Wilford flipped to one of the 24-hour news channels to see if anything interesting would crop up while he started doing some investigating of his own. One of these corrupt motherfuckers was going to be more corrupt than the rest. It was good to have a project again.