Jayne stormed up the cargo ramp cursing loudly, fluently, and quite colorfully. His language wasn’t the only thing that was colorful. In fact all of him was colorful, or at least… vibrant. He was covered from head to toe in violent pink paint. It coated his hat, and dripped from the end of his nose. Paint ran thickly from the sleeves of his coat, and his boots left pink tracks behind him.

Also following behind him was Wash, who was laughing. Not snickering, (which was extremely common for the pilot) or giggling (also very common) but a full, gut wrenching, grabbing on to the bulkhead for support, I think I just might throw up laugh (not unheard of but slightly less common then the first two.)

“What the hell is goin’ on?” Mal demanded, looking down from his captainy like perch on the cat walk. “Jayne stop right there, I’ll thank ya not t’ bring that mess there inside’a my boat. Turn your ass around and go…hose off or sumthin’.”

“Mal!” Jayne lamented, looking up at Mal from under the brim of his pink painted hat. His eyes wide with surprise that he was being turned away when he had finally reached sanctuary. “I cain’t go out in public lookin’ like a cheap whore house done threw up all over me!” Then glared up angrily at his captain for good measure.

Mal looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You can and you will. Now scoot. Yer girlifyin’ my ship an I don’t like it.” This brought a fresh peal of laughter from Wash, who gave up the fight and lay down on the cargo bay floor, and kept laughing.

‘Damn it Mal! There’s people out there starin at me like I’m a gorram freak!”

“Then let ‘em stare! I know you ain’t gonna let sumthin’ like a little pink paint threaten yer manhood Jayne, now go out there and get cleaned off. I don’t want one more drop of that pink paint inside my ship.”

Jayne took a long moment to consider pulling a gun and shooting the captain dead right there. Got a nice pretty picture in his head of the sight it’d make too, but then he remembered his guns and knives were all pi