Joey&Chandler

Dinnertime

"Hi, honey, I'm home!"

Chandler Bing grimaced at the singsong greeting from his
roommate, wishing that if Joey was going to annoy him every
night when he arrived he'd at least find some new material to
irritate him with. "Hi honey, please stop saying that," he
lilted back sarcastically. "Okay?"

"Why?" Joey shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto a
door hook. "How else would you know it's me and not some
mugger or something?"

"That's true. Unless Nathan Lane's taken up cat burgling,"
Chandler grumbled, tapping the television remote aimlessly.

Joey opened the 'fridge and sniffed at a milk container.
"Nah. He's got a big show now, I don't think he'd have to
stoop to that level." He winced at the sour smell of bad milk
and dumped the container's contents into the sink. "Not
unless he was starving to death. Speaking of starving, do we
have any food in this house?"

Chandler sank further into the upholstery. "Yep. I left you
the beets."

Joey blinked. "The beets? Wait a minute, are you telling me
all we got in this house are beets?"

"They're top-shelf beets," Chandler insisted innocently. "A
full can of Grade A, chock full of nutrition, delicious
purple num-nums."

Joey's lower lip trembled. "But ... I don't like purple num-
nums." He searched the mostly empty shelves and pulled down
the lone can. "Man, this sucks," he said mournfully, examining the
label of an extra large can of Green Giant Sliced Beets. He
put it down with a groan. "Guess I can wait until tomorrow
morning for the food cart on the set." He shuffled into the
living room and settled down next to Chandler on the couch, a
woebegone look lining his face.

Chandler tried to concentrate on the TV, but his eyes were
drawn to his friend's miserable expression. He had planned
on keeping that last can of Chef Boy-R-Dee hidden in case of
a true emergency but ... no, he thought, forcing himself to
focus on the screen, he was going to stick to the plan, no
matter how unhappy Joey looked.

Another long, drawn-out sigh sounded in his ear and Chandler
winced. "I don't mind the hunger cramps and pain," said
Joey sadly. "But I sure wish this didn't remind me of the
time my parents sent me to bed without dinner. Boy, that was
a lousy month."

Chandler rolled his eyes. "A month. Your parents sent you
to bed without dinner for a month?"

"Yeah. But that was okay. I didn't like squid that much
back then. And that was definitely a squid month." Joey
clutched at his stomach with a moan. "I sure hope they let
me have more than half a donut tomorrow at work."

Chandler grit his teeth but in his heart, he knew resistance
was futile. "Oh, all right!" he yelled, reaching into the
sofa and pulling out the last can of Rollercoasters. "Here!
But that's it. Tomorrow we'll have to raid Monica's and
you're going in past the mouse traps."

Joey smiled brilliantly. "I knew it!" He snatched the can,
danced to the stove and laughed devilishly. "I knew you'd
never leave me with the beets."

"And why is that?" Chandler groused, wondering at warm wash
of joy he felt at the sight of Joey's glee. Joey's happiness always
made him happy for some bizarre reason, a reason he wasn't
willing to contemplate at length, truly afraid of what he might find.

Or perhaps of what he knew already lurked there.

"'Cuz you love me," replied Joey firmly, plopping the can's
contents into an already sizzling sauce pot.

Chandler whirled toward him, nearly falling off the couch.
"I what?"

So much for non-contemplation.