A writing team doesn't function without conversations... and the odd pillow being thrown... and the complaints department (Franky The Proximity Cat) emerging from under the coffee table every now and then to inspect the quality of the work being done. Feel free to laugh at our ridiculousness. We certainly do!
Scene: The Kraken’s lair (His and George’s bedroom). It’s late and Franky The Proximity Cat is snoozing on the bed. The Kraken: It’s fluffy! Franky: Wakes up, makes a low meow-grr noise. The Kraken: Curls on the bed AROUND the cat. “Sooo fluffy.” Franky: The Kraken: (Pats Proximity Cat on the head) Franky: The Kraken: Tries to pat the Proximity Cat’s tummy. Franky: George: (On The Kraken entering the kitchen
George: (Has just received the most comfortablest, fluffiest pair of house pants ever known to humanity in the mail. Promptly whacks on said article and marvels at how she now has a bottom half softer than unicorn feathers.) The Kraken (Walking by): There will be no yiffing in this house. George: (Still marvelling at fluffy majesty) Yiffing? What’s yiffing? The Kraken: Furry sex. George: (Pants forgotten due to epic shock)
A brief glimpse into the the way the cogs turn in the household of a married writing team where harmony and plentiful ideas abound… (ehem) Scene: George has been up since 6am because she had a genius IDEA that she promptly forgot once distracted by dead thing surly cat has made dead. It’s 10am. The Kraken has just emerged. Kraken: BLARGH. (Yawns, scratches, snorts) George: Good Morning! Do you want