Sam & Max One-Shots

One Month

*Warning: went back to my cheesy roots. (P.S; Happy Holidays!)*

"I GOT IT!" Max hollered as he threw himself towards the landline. The dirty take-out dishes threatened to fall as he smashed into the kitchen counter. Standing up, he vigorously reached for the phone before being hit onto the floor. His head wobbled as it hit the checker-pattern ground.

Sam smiled triumphantly before picking up the receiver, adjusting his wrinkled dress shirt that hung lazily above his pants. Having been home for a few hours, his jacket and tie were undone and unkempt. He yawned, squinting at the bright sunlight shining in through the lonely cracked window on the other side of the room.

"Hello?" He asked into the phone as he kept an eye on Max, making sure he didn't lunge towards him.

Instead of moving Max laid still, his head spinning, and listened to the conversation from Sam's end. He could make out a woman's voice, loud and confident, talking with similar mannerisms as Sam. Despite having only said a few words, the two had somehow conveyed a humongous sum of information.

"Who's on the line?" Max whisper-shouted.

Sam blocked the bottom of the phone for a moment and lowered his voice, trying to keep his attention on the other end of the line. "Grandma-."

Before finishing his sentence, Max grinned. "HI GRANNY!" He screamed, lifting his head from the floor in hopes that she'd hear him.

Sam smirked and laughter resonated from the phone. A few more murmurs followed before Sam once again turned to address Max. "She says 'hi'." He didn't bother covering the phone this time.

Pleased, Max picked himself up and brushed off the dust he gathered from the somewhat filthy ground. He sauntered back into the living-room, which was only a doorway from the kitchen, and leaned back down on the old, worn couch. Glancing at the TV, he saw the screen was completely devoured by fuzz. He sighed, too stubborn to go fix it, and listened to Sam in the other room.

"Us? Yeah, we're fine. Finished our third case last night! Boy, it was interesting..." Sam chuckled, his tone jovial as he talked to his favourite relative. They had been working under the Commissioner for less than a year and they enjoyed the work tremendously. Gun fights, catching criminals, solving crimes, all of it spoke to their innate love of danger and unchecked destruction.

The conversation had moved on by the time Max tuned back in. He reached down and grabbed a few darts, throwing them at the tacked up papers on the wall. They were all wedding magazines, the cheapest ones the two could find. Throwing the darts, he didn't care to aim since most of the details of the event bored him. The small metal object spiraled and just barely missed the TV screen.

Not long after getting their jobs, the two realized just how much money they could make by getting married. There was the life insurance from the company, the new appliances as gifts from family members, the tax benefits from common-law (though, Max couldn't remember ever filing a tax form...). Since their new house was woefully unfurnished and they both seriously doubted their chances of sustaining a long-term relationship, they threw caution to the wind and got engaged.

They hadn't told a soul their plan in fear that it would diminish the quality of their wedding gifts. Luckily, their families ate up the lie without question; they weren't too sure if they were supposed be offended by that fact.

At the end of the day, they didn't care. Truthfully, they would put up with a million droll invitations and rehearsals if it meant getting a decent toaster.

"Haven't got a date just yet, but it's sure to be soon." The already dented counter cracked as Sam leaned onto it. He stared blankly at the messy weeds that peaked out behind the windowsill. "We're hoping to get most of Max's family there. If they're fighting, we won't have to pay for entertainment!"