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fandomtownies2007-10-18 11:19 am
sizzler-sisters.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomtownies2007-10-18 11:19 am
Entry tags:
OrangeShoeSevenAide, Thursday
The Jerries - having returned to their usual insane selves, instead of their gremlin-bit insane selves - were hiding in their store, under the couch in the basement.
Not from angry Fandomites who might be upset about that whole, bopping on the head and stealing their clothes bit. Because honestly, they didn't remember that. They were hiding from the Bolivian robot dogs, who were having a conference with the Mafia pigeons on the roof.
(The pigeons weren't in the Mafia. They were Mafia spies. Very important distinction.)
There was a canoe in front of OrangeShoeSevenAide, and it contained all kinds of clothing. There was a sign over it that read
FREE HAMSTER FOOD
We have no fish! None at all!
Please. Have your clothes back.
(OOC: I leave for vacation any second now, so please, ignore the Jerries! Mod getting your clothes back, or if you'd rather, you can ping in here for grabbing it, or heck, chalk it up to being lost if you'd rather not get it back. Much thanks for letting me club you and steal your pelts.)
Not from angry Fandomites who might be upset about that whole, bopping on the head and stealing their clothes bit. Because honestly, they didn't remember that. They were hiding from the Bolivian robot dogs, who were having a conference with the Mafia pigeons on the roof.
(The pigeons weren't in the Mafia. They were Mafia spies. Very important distinction.)
There was a canoe in front of OrangeShoeSevenAide, and it contained all kinds of clothing. There was a sign over it that read
We have no fish! None at all!
Please. Have your clothes back.
(OOC: I leave for vacation any second now, so please, ignore the Jerries! Mod getting your clothes back, or if you'd rather, you can ping in here for grabbing it, or heck, chalk it up to being lost if you'd rather not get it back. Much thanks for letting me club you and steal your pelts.)
no subject
After all, he really, really liked that scruffy old floppy coat of his, and there wasn't a French Canadian fur trading street performer in the universe who could steal it from him with impunity.
So when he spotted the canoe, all happily unguarded as it was, he was quite thrilled to see that all of the clothing that he had been wearing when he got the unwelcome club to the head was inside of it. And upon grabbing the clothing, he kicked the canoe a few times for good measure before running back to the dorms, where Bad Singers with clubs typically weren't an issue. That ought to show them.
no subject