fandomtownies | J,GoB, after 7th Period

J,GoB, after 7th Period

Peter was sitting in J,GoB, staring at the camera he was given for a Journalism project. He had sold some pictures of Spider-Man to the Bugle before. They sucked, but nobody else had a picture of Spider-Man at the time, so it had gotten him to the Bugle's office. From there he got a job on the website. From there, he became interested in journalism and ended up taking this class that gave him this camera. Weird how that works.

Anyway, he was eating a donut at the moment.

[OOC: Interaction with Peter locked to someone who knows who they are. Otherwise, use for your evening biscuit worshipping needs.]

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GOB walked into Jeff, the God of Biscuits while thinking about something. Something he couldn't do. Something for Tuesday. And that's when he saw the brat with the camera. "Hey, kid, you take pictures?"

Peter looked up at this stranger. "Not really. It's for a--"

"Good," GOB said, ignoring Peter's answer. "Look, I'm trying to do something special for someone for Valentine's Day. I need someone to take a picture of her. Hey, you good with computers?"

Peter looked at this somewhat creepy man warily. "Um. Yeah? Why?"

GOB pulled something out of his jacket pocket. "After you take her picture, I need to get her face put on this. It'll be a sweet gesture. $50 for your troubles."

Peter kept his WTF-y face on. "Who is this woman?" he asked cautiously.

"You probably don't know her. Doesn't work in the kind of business you're likely to go to. Her name's Becky. She's monochrome and--"

"CRAZY HOOKER?" Peter asked, laughing. This was too great.

"Yeah. Becky," GOB confirmed. "Do you know her?"

"She tried to kill me once," Peter explained.

"Twice for me," GOB smiled. "But I don't think she was really trying for death."

These two nutjobs were perfect for each other. Anything he could do to make sure that true love founds its way to the psych-ward... "I want eighty. She's a loon. I'm not taking pictures of a psycho without more money."

"Fine. Deal. Just get it all done by Sunday night," GOB said.

[OOC: Just about done and there are no lame godmodding jokes! Yay!]

"Deal. Give me $40 now," Peter demanded.

[OOC: Don't godmod my lack of godmodding complaints, you filthy whore.]

GOB debated for a minute, then pulled out his wallet. "Fine. Here. Just do a good job."

As Peter left, GOB thought that if the kid didn't return with the final product, he'd make a call to that Mountie.

[OOC: Firstly, this is all being done FOR the whore. Secondly, I just actually godmodded you, bitch. I win.]

Having just come from the birthday party of little Nina Paula Copeland (age 6), the Gomez Brothers are now in search of croissants. And hopefully, sopapillas. But they're not picky.

GOB saw this... mariachi band? The hell? Eh, this is Fandom. "Good evening, guys," GOB said, drinking some coffee he had bought after that kid ran off.

"Good evening," Martin says courteously. Andreas and Larry wave, but they've got croissantsin their mouths, so it's forgivable. Joe and Pablo smile and say, "Hola," then go back to debating whether the muffins are any good.

"How are you, sir?" Martin follows up with, making sure his guitar case is secure.

"I'm not bad. So. What's with the outfits?" GOB asked.

"These are the traditional costumes of the mariachis of Mexico," Martin explained. "Your modern mariachis, they feel the hats are too much, but we find that the public expects a certain image, no?"

Pablo played a trumpet blast to underscore this idea. BRAAAAAA-aaaaaaahhht!

"Mariachi... Huh." GOB was thinking. After a moment, he had an idea. "Are you guys doing anything on Tuesday?"

"We have an engagement at noon on the mainland, and one at two o'clock at a bank opening. But as it happens, we are free in the evening?" Martin looked hopeful, and fished out the following card:

The Gomez Brothers!
Mariachis for All Occasions!

Weddings * Christenings * Bar Mitzvahs

Accordion available on request

"If you want the accordion, we need some notice. Our cousin Victor usually plays the clubs around D.C."

"Evening is perfect, guys! I'll be singing if you're okay with that," GOB said, his mind racing to plot this out.

He handed over a business card from the Sin. "Just show up here at 10 PM, okay?"

Martin took the card, and raised his eyebrows, then shrugged philosophically. "Okay. Any particular requests? The Yellow Rose of Texas? Spanish Rose of Harlem? The ladies like those. And we get $100 an hour, I should tell you. Plus expenses."

Andreas and Pablo nodded at the expenses part very seriously. Joe and Larry were too busy asking for pies to go.

GOB wrote down the names of a couple songs. "Do you know those?"

"And that price sounds fine by me," he said, nodding.

Martin brightened. "Oh, yes, no problem. We shall see you on Tuesday, then! Now if you will excuse us, we must leave for a supermarket fair in Reston. Have a nice day, sir!"

Pablo blew another fanfare on his trumpet, but he was stifled by Larry and Joe as the Gomez Brothers made their way out of Jeff, God of Biscuits, with blueberry pies and those little mini-muffins for their wives.

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J,GoB, after 7th Period

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In search of pastry...

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