Short little piece that came up. Don't know if they actually do this or not,
but I thought is was fun to write. And I know John doesn't look like Jean,
but would someone please tell Wisdom that??? (j/k)
Disclaimer: Wisdom is Marvel's. Constantine is DC's. "Run Pete Run Like the
Wind" is credited to the crew of of the Weapon X Sim group. Hey Guys!!

"Is This Wot Parenting Is Gonna Be Like???"
Lee Tybird
Trumpetlee@aol.com

        "I ain't gonna reach for 'em."
        "Me neither."
        "I don't want em."
        "Me neither."
        A pile of cigarette packs, lighters, and match books were sitting in
the middle of the table in the Muir Island Medical Research Building. Both
Pete Wisdom and John Constantine were married. Both their wives were
expecting their first child. This meant that both men had to quit smoking.
One way or another.
        This was one way.
        "I don't want em."
        Pete blinked. "Piss on this!! I want a fag!!!!!" He made a mad grab
for the pile.
        John got hold of Pete's hand before he could reach the Marlboros.
"No. Ya don't need em. Neither do I."
        "Yes you do!! What the bloody hell're you talkin about??!! You need
em just as much as I do!!"
        John blinked. "Shit on me!! You're right!!" They grabbed for the
cigarettes and lighters and lit up.

Twenty minutes later...
        "I'll kill MacTaggart," Pete grumbled. "Bloody oven mitts."
        "Well, we gotta stop smoking," John replied.
        "How come it's so fuckin hard???????" Pete whined.
        "How the bloody hell should I know?" John asked. "Do I look like Jean
Summers?!"
        "No comment."
        "I'll kill you, you fuckin-'"
        "You ain't killin nothin as long as you got bloody oven mitts taped
to yer hands," Pete snorted.
        "THAT'S THE BLOODY LIMIT!!!" John began to bite at the tape that held
his right oven mitt on. "Soon 's I get this thing off, yer goin ta hell,
Wisdom!! Ya hear me?!! HELL!!!!!"
        "Shit!!" Pete got up and began to run. He passed the sitting room.
        When Doug Ramsey saw Pete, he began to laugh. "Run Pete!! Run like
the wind!!"

Ten minutes later...
        "This is all yer fault."
        "My fault?!" John cried. "Who told who he looked like bloody Jean
Summers?!"
        "You came after me!"
        "So?! You opened yer bloody yap!!" John cried. "Now, we're tied to
the chairs. An' MacTaggart decided ta shoot you up with that inhibitor
shit."
        "Still yer fault."
        "SHUT IT!!"
        "YOU SHUT IT!!"
        They paused, looking horified.
        "Is this wot parenting is gonna be like?" John asked.
        "Oh, bloody fucking hell."
        They both began to scream in unison. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"