fandomtownies | Turtle & Canary; Thursday [ 07/26 ]

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Turtle & Canary; Thursday [ 07/26 ]

Okay, so maybe Turtle was thinking of going a little easier on Bart about the rearranging thing because, really, it could get pretty boring around the store. She sighed, putting the last card on her house of cards on the counter, which was staying up phenomenally well. It would probably come crashing down when the door opened, she realized, so she had a new project: gluing all the cards in place. A potentially good waste of a buck pack of cards, but she could afford a buck, really.

The glittery "Help Wanted" sign was firmly in place.

Today's Squishy Flavors: Onion, Grape, Red.

Turtle & Canary is open.

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Like you do.

No breathing until it's all glued, please!

"Turtle!" Jeff was all-abreathe and all-arush when he came in, which probably wasn't all too healthy for the cards. Of course, his usual running-into-stores bit may have been hampered somewhat by the hurting back and the half-cut hair. Aerodynamics, doncha know.

Turtle's eyes went wide as the side of the house of cards that she hadn't gotten to yet took just a moment of suspended doom before sliding down and fall, many of them too the floor. The glued half, no longer hand the support of the other side, tipped over...and then collapsed under its own weight. Turtle clunked her head on the counter. "It just couldn't wait until I finished gluing the base, could it? This better be good, Jeff."

"I..." Pressure, meet Jeff. "...I, I don't remember." He ran his hand through his hair - which felt weird and light without most of the top being where it was supposed to be. "...I'm sorry," he babbled, "I was over there, and I was thinking, except, you know... birds. They're very distracting, and now there's cards."

"Yup," Turtle picked up a two of diamonds, the glue still wet along one side, and flicked it a little toward the other son the floor. "Cards. Had a pretty good building going there, too..." She sighed. Well, on the bright side, she had something to do later...

She turned her attention from the cards to Jeff. "You really don't rem--What the heck happened to your hair?" And then, a terrible, awful thought struck her. "You didn't wake up and happen to find a pair of pink scissors at the scene of the crime, did you? Did you?"

"I was just walking by the shop," Jeff babbled, "And I figured, you know, I could go and have a look at Turtle's-- stocks! Your stocks are very nice. Excellent stocks." He gave her a nervous thumbs-up. "But then I got ambushed by some-- er, pigeons. They're sort of vicious over here, aren't they?"

He paused, then attempted to glance up at his hair. He failed miserably. "There was a hairy thing," he said, by way of explanation. "It thought I was a rock star."

Turtle just sort of stared a little. Mostly at the hair; she couldn't help it, but it would have been as long if it weren't for the rock star bit.

"You....are going to get it fixed, right?" she asked.

He shot Turtle a despairing expression. "How?" Jeff said, expending a small country's entire reserve of doe-eyed desperation in one word.

The staring just wasn't quitting. That level of desperation was...almost impressive... She shook her head.

"A haircut, Jeff. You've heard of those, right?"

Oh, geez, she wasn't like this over her braid, was she? But her braid was...her braid. This was just...unfortunate. Still, with a small, sympathetic frown, she added, "Ice cream helps, too."

There were two things Jeff did well. The other was being nervous. "Of course I've heard of haircuts," he said, "I was given one by a mad hairy thing." He touched his hair again, flinching. "I think the pigeons thought I was a nest," he noted. Then paused. "...Where do I find one?" Ice cream or a haircut, he didn't add.

"Well, there's Theodoric of York here on the island, and they do a good job," Turtle offered. "And there's a place not too far from the mainland, where Mister Deadpool took me when Annette hacked off my braid, and they let you watch C-Span there."

Turtle was still unaware that the 'letting' there involved a lot of gun-pointing and genital threatening from a certain mentor in red.

"Okay," Jeff said, obediently. "I should probably go find that. It was, er, it was good to see your-- er, stocks. You have the stocks of ten w-- people. Not, not here, obviously, just... around."

"...Jeff," Turtle said, frowning at him with her eyebrows, "the only way you could see my stocks would be if you've been going through my files, and I hope you realize that going through my files gives me the authority to either cause a world of pain and/or press legal charges..."

"I was just guessing," Jeff said, looking slightly (okay, a lot) panicked, "I mean..." he stared at Turtle's eyebrows, "...You've got the looks of a stock market."

And, try as she might, Turtle could not work that around to make any sort of sense of that. And this was a girl who could figure out a line of logic behind the Jerries. The only thing she could fathom out of a compliment (assumed compliment, rather) was chaos, bustling, and loud, which....didn't help things.

So she thought maybe it was best left at, "Um, thanks?"

"Not to imply that you're crowded," Jeff went bravely (well, desperately) on, "Or covered in businessmen holding little scraps of paper or anything. There's just, you know..." he groped for something that made sense, "...Stocks. And they're... good, aren't they? They're... essential."

"Generally and in the grand scheme of things?" Turtle said. "Um, no, they're not. Stocks are generally superfluous. But they are good, you've got at least that."

"You know what I mean," Jeff said, "Economies depend on them. Given enough bad stocks and the whole-- thing just collapses, doesn't it?"

Turtle's nose wrinkled. "Textbook, yes. Actual? I doubt it. It's complicated. And, either way you look at it, it's still a really crappy attempt at a compliment, Jeff." She gave him a regretful, sympathetic expression. "Sorry. It was a good try, though. Uh, assuming, that is, that it was a compliment..."

"Compliments are difficult," Jeff mused, somewhat downtrodden, "There's too many variables to take into account."

"All you really have to do," Turtle offered, "is keep it simple, you know?" She shifted a little; she still felt like she was assuming a lot here, but... "I mean, just a little 'you look nice' can go a long way. A lot longer than leaving someone to figure out what the heck you mean. Your metaphors are a little...creative, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I don't mean to. It just sort of happens," Jeff said, edging towards the door. "But, er, you look nice. Just so you know."

There. That wasn't so difficult, now, was it? Turtle took note of the edging and figured maybe she should let the poor guy out of his misery for a bit. She smiled.

"Thanks, Jeff. Watch out for those pigeons, yeah?"

"I," Jeff glanced back to, at the very least, coordinate his exit this time, "I will. It was good to see you." It had taken him the entire conversation to admit that was the reason he'd come in in the first place.

He left the store walking backwards. It was pretty much tradition by now.

Traumatic watch experience today, oh, man. Nothing like wanting to punch another associate in the face for being a pompous bitch. XD

[[ And, yes, T & C OOC has become Bitch About Work thread ]]

A Bitch About Work thread is essential. I felt like starting one myself after having a disastrous meeting with my boss's boss.

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Turtle & Canary; Thursday [ 07/26 ]

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