Work Text:
“Bobby?”
“Yeah?”
“D’you think cactuses get sad from not being hugged?”
Bob choked on his cigarette. And his laughs.
“Oh, Lord,” George burst into tears. “THEY MUST BE SO LONELY—”
“Babe,,,,,, Course they’re not lonely—”
“HOW THE FUCK D’YOU KNOW THAT? MY POOR SUMMER CHILD,” George pointed at the thick orb of cactus Roy had recently potted in the studio and shooted himself towards it. “IT NEEDS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!”
“WE
ALL
NEED YOU, BABE!—”
Five minutes later Roy returned with the requested pair of tweezers. George sat on the sofa, fuming and sad, with the entire cactus sticking out of his head.
“So, uh, Bob,” Roy whispered, mildly tickled. “How did this happen?”
“Don’t ask.”