fandomtownies | The Arms Hotel Lobby, Tuesday

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The Arms Hotel Lobby, Tuesday

It wasn't a strange occurance to see a very nervous Jeff sitting behind the front desk, but right now he was practically jittery. In fact, the moment he came in, he checked all possible exits, inspected the underside of several objects, then deposited Nana at the door before sitting down.

And jittered.

Welcome to the Arms Hotel!
Today's Specials:
please make him forget
(indecipherable SPLOTCH)
i have a girlfriend!

The Arms Hotel was open.

[SP after morning till tonight 'cause of family]

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It's here and it's Gunther-y.

And worry if he isn't going to launch into outer space.

Andrew walked through the door, camera rolling. "And here we have the lobby of Fandom's most popular and only hotel. Notice the architecture."

He panned the room, stopping on Jeff.

That voice.

Jeff's head shot up.

"Oh god," he said.

Andrew zoomed in on Jeff and took a couple steps closer, "Ahh, a Fandom High student, hard at work. This student was unable to partake in Friday's festivities, but now is our chance to see how the event continues to impact the community."

He walked even closer, "And tell us, good sir, what is your name?" He motioned for Jeff to talk to the camera.

"Jeff Murdock," Jeff said, sounding as if someone had just killed his puppy.

He looked, however, as if he desperately wanted to hide behind the desk.

"Jeff Murdock, really?" Andrew peered out from behind the camera. His eyes were a little red and swollen and his smile seemed a bit forced, if one was inclined to notice such things. "Huh, I don't think I knew that."

Back behind the camera, "And now, Jeff Murdock, tell our viewers how you feel about the events that transpired in common room five on Friday night. Notice, dear viewers, how anxious Jeff appears to be to share his story."

"Well, it's my name," Jeff said, grasping his new buddy offense by the... somethingorother straps. "I'm not some sort of rock star or anything, you need names to get in places. And I don't know what transpired in the common room except that the radio said there were lesbians about and you made a video. You've got to share these things, you can't keep them indoors, it's against the order of things. Lesbians have got to be free!"

"I see, I see," Andrew said, "So really, you're here to be an advocate for gay rights. That's very admirable of you, Jeff. Is there any particular event in your life that inspired you to speak up for the gay community? Do you have, perhaps, a close lesbian friend or a gay brother?"

Andrew could never say these things without the comfort of camera between him and world.

"I don't know any lesbians," Jeff said. So sad. He took a moment.

And then realised about the rest of the questions. "...What?"

"So perhaps a gay brother? Best friend? Secrete lover? Or are you merely trying to help give voice to the oppressed?"

Andrew stepped even closer to Jeff, dropping down on one knee to get a more dramatic up-the-nose angle.

"I just--- Lesbians!" Jeff ran a frantic hand through his hair, "No gay brothers! Or friends! Or lovers! But lesbians are, are-- efficient! There's no blokes in lesbians! You've got to appreciate that sort of commitment!"

"No gay friends? Really?" Andrew had just discovered that Xander was dating Bridge. It was kind of like a light going off for him, but he tried very hard not to look at the light. Very hard.

"So tell me a little about your admiration of people who are committed. Is it their conviction you, um, fancy, or is it something else about lesbians?"

"Well, you've got to admire the conviction, obviously," Jeff said, well aware of the hole he was digging himself into but completely incapable of stopping, "But it's not really that hard, is it? At all times, there's breasts. Everywhere. That's a lot of breasts for one room. It's a miracle none of them suffocate. In the breasts, that is. Then again, you get to take at least a pair of them home afterwards, so I suppose it's worth the risk."

"To clarify for our viewers at home, what you're saying is that lesbians are lesbians for the benefit of extra, um, breasts?" Andrew had a hard time saying the word. "Does, um, does that conversely mean that gay men are gay because they, they... they are wanting to double up on the man parts?"

Andrew was terribly red.

"..."

Jeff stared.

Then heard something (http://community.livejournal.com/fandomtownies/1942573.html?thread=88716845#t88716845).

And yelled.

Turtle had eventually managed to slip away for Apu for something other than class by cleverly trapping him momentarily behind a wall of files. She was a little reluctant; he was probably going to mess them up on purpose for retaliation, but then she could fix them tomorrow, which gave her something to look forward to.

Of course, it wasn't very long on her way toward the Arms that she figured this was probably a bad idea and she'd almost wished she'd allowed Apu to keep her there. "Jeff?" she called out cautiously as she drifted into the lobby.

"TURTLE!"

Jeff was red. And also looking horribly frantic.

Andrew panned the camera around, looking for an amphibian. He found something else, "And here comes another student off the streets of Fandom. A patron? A friend? We wait to see what unfolds."

Andrew stood up and backed away, trying to get a better shot.

"Turtle! It's... You are the best girlfriend ever!" Jeff managed.

Because she saved him. Even if maybe she didn't know it yet.

"Girlfriend?" Andrew's voice might have squeaked. He peeked out from behind the camera and looked over Turtle. Then he glanced at Jeff.

"So, Miss, umm, Turtle? Jeff here was just telling us why he is pro-lesbian. Do you have anything to add?"

Andrew was suddenly very uncomfortable.

She was on camera right now, so Turtle knew she couldn't flail or facepalm or anything, and, arms crossed over her chest, gave the lens a very cool look. "I am not at liberty to say anything on the matter at this juncture," she said simply. "Perhaps if you can produce the proper paperwork so that I know precisely how my image and my words might be being used and make sure that I approve of all potential considerations, I might. I might also be interested in seeing the proper paperwork that gives you the authority to also be filming Miss Connell's establishment for whatever project this is."

And that was Andrew's cue to leave. He shut the camera and smiled warmly at them both.

"Thank you both so much for taking part in this little school project. It means so much to me and the others who are involved. I do hope you a pleasant day and, um..." He was backing away from them both, towards the door, "...please come again!"

Andrew turned and ran.

Turtle winced at that closing phrase. He had to say that, didn't he? Today? She let out a miserable groan and turned her attention toward Jeff.

Jeff was forcing his breathing down to a normal level as he stared after Andrew.

Then he turned to Turtle.

"...Thank you," he said, "Thank you so much. He was asking things-- thank you!"

"You okay?" Turtle asked, frowning a little at Jeff's dissipating state of panic. "What the heck was that all about, anyway?"

"I'm good now," Jeff commented. "It's just-- that weird bloke Andrew. He says these things."

"...What kind of things?" Turtle asked cautiously, and then, because she couldn't trust that the tone would get through, added, "Do I want to know?"

"I don't even want to know!" Jeff sounded kind of desperate again.

Turtle looked a mite bit desperate herself as she looked at Jeff for a moment and then she shook her head. "Why didn't you just say 'no thanks' to the interview, Jeff?" she asked.

If Jeff knew that, he would have far less problems in his life.

"He distracted me," he explained, "I went for 'no' but sort of tripped."

"...Tripped?" Turtle asked, almost skeptically.

"You know," Jeff said, "You reach for one word, but then something distracts you, and you... trip. There's been accidents because of tripping before."

"I'm sure there has," Turtle observed wryly. "So, he came in and interviewed you anyway, despite you really wanting to, because you got too tripped up to say no..." She frowned. "You weren't so tripped up that you went ahead and signed a waiver, too, were you?"

"I think the tripping's mostly verbal."

"So there was no signing of waivers or release forms or anything thing like that?"

Jeff had the good grace of staring at the floor like a good school boy. "No waivers," he said, "Just the verbal tripping."

"Then..." Turtle's head tilted thoughtfully, "he can't do jack crap with that footage, if you don't want him to, you know. Verbal contracts, with or without tripping, are only worth the paper they're written on. I know this; I just went over it with Jim."

Now with 230% extra staff modding.

And dog.

Some people have icons for this.

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The Arms Hotel Lobby, Tuesday

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OOC