Work Text:
humorous deathfics: What, ya don't have plungers in Montana?
by Josette Grover
Mac looks at the body on the slab, then over at Danny and Sheldon. Sid, who's just finished the autopsy, waits for him to begin to speak.
"How did you find her, Danny?"
"Bent over the kitchen sink. She's been complaining that the drain in her sink's been stuck for the last couple of days. I told her to call the apartment manager, the landlord can call a plumber, that's what they're there for after all, but no, not Montana." Danny says, rolling his eyes. "But noooooooo, not Montana, 'we don't have these in Montana' " he says in a deadly imitation of her whiny voice. "I can't get a good grip on it with my fingers, maybe if I used my teeth I can twist it out."
"Are you kidding me?" Mac asks, raising an eyebrow. "Let me guess, she didn't think to take the water out first?"
"Right," Danny says with a smirk, "When Sheldon and I found her, she had drowned in less than an inch of water." Mac looks at Sid, who nods.
"Shit," Mac says, rubbing a hand over his head. "I thought that was just an urban legend, drowning in your kitchen sink."
Danny smirks. "We're talking Montana, Mac. She could give a mule pointers on being stubborn. Though, the mule probably could give Montana pointers on brains, though she probably wouldn't listen to them."
"Danny!" Mac says with a half-hearted glare as Sheldon and Sid snicker.
"Please, we're talking about Montana. There's three ways you can do something, the right way, the wrong way, and her way. And she would never listen to anybody who told her how she could do something another way. Even if it was cheaper, better, faster, etc. She did it her way and screw anybody who got in her way."
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