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The Arms Hotel Lobby, Tuesday

Jeff had entered the hotel entirely too early this morning. So early, in fact, that he beat Gunther there, and quite possibly anyone else who might have wanted to check in.

This meant he'd fallen asleep at the desk. Despite himself.

The quiet snoring quickly found an echo in the dog.
Welcome to the Arms Hotel!
Today's Specials:
Pea Soup
Chips & Sausage
No Tea

[ open! ]

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Jeff considers the fact he actually got specials on there a minor victory. Celebrate it.

You'll have to wake him up. This will probably make him very nervous.

Andrew walked up to the counter. He was carrying a plastic bag.

He cleared his throat. "Umm, Jeff?"

And Jeff's only response would have been a snore. A loud one, at that.

"Are you just pretending to be sleeping to avoid me?" Andrew asked.

Rather than give answer himself (seeing as how he still had his eyes closed and was making sleeping noises), Jeff had apparently bestowed upon Nana the gift of talking for him.

Or maybe Nana was just bored. It was hard to tell.

She came up from behind the counter, sat down next to Andrew, and looked up at him with big, wet puppy dog eyes which mostly appeared to be mournful.

Andrew looked down and Nana and gave her a little half smile. "Hey there, poochy," he said softly, reaching out to pet the big dog.

He sighed. "It looks like Mr. Jeff is sleeping. I guess I'll just have to bring his movies back later."

He could just leave them on the counter, but he had promised to look after them to the best of his ability, and that seemed risky. Anyone could come along and just poke through the bag's contents.

Nana did the dog equivalent of returning the smile, which was pat her tail hard against the floor.

And then she barked. Excitably. It almost sounded military.

Jeff shot up off the desk. "I'M SORRY, MOTHER!"

Andrew jumped at the bark as well. "Um, oh. Sorry. I, well, the dog... not your mother. Movies!"

Yes, it was word salad and Andrew looked terribly upset about it.

There was a suspended moment where the very definition of sheer panic was visible on Jeff's face. It passed like the wind, leaving only anxiety behind.

"My dog is not my mother and oh god, does she have my films?!"

"No, they're here. Safe and sound." Andrew held up the bag.

"I'm sorry I didn't get them back to you sooner. It's just... Well, I've been avoiding my room, and they've been locked up in there."

"Oh." Jeff peered up under the protective hand he'd lifted to his eyes. "Okay."

He dropped the hand. "Oh. Does your closet eat people, too?" he asked, seriously.

"I'm sure it does," Andrew replied with equal seriousness. He breathed a little sigh of relief that it didn't seem like he was going to have to talk about Bart.

He put the bag on the counter. "If you're free sometime, I wouldn't mind watching a couple of these."

Some details just managed to fail to register with Jeff sometimes. Like deaths and pastry shops. "Which ones?" he asked, with some suspicion. And took his movies gladly.

Okay, so it had been a lame plea for socialization as Andrew couldn't remember a single movie in the bag at the moment. "Oh, you know, the, um, the top couple there. I arranged them in the order of the ones I thought would be coolest to watch," he lied.

Jeff looked in the bag. Then he looked up at Andrew. Then he looked in the bag again. Finally, he looked up at Andrew for the second time and said, easy as anything, "Okay."

"Okay?" Andrew blinked a couple of times. "Okay! Yeah, that would be great. I'm really excited about that new Will Smith movie coming out, too. The I Am Hugely Significant one. That looks awesome."

"Next Thursday," Jeff nodded, seriously. Because movies were important business. And then, as if by cue-- "Who?"

Some things, he still needed to be updated on.

"Thursday sounds good to me." Andrew nodded. "You know, Will Smith. Gettin' jiggy wid it. Gettin' jiggy wid it." Yes, Andrew was trying to do a little dance to the phrase.

"What are you doing?" Jeff stared. "Are you having a fit? Have the women vikings invaded?" He glanced nervously over his shoulder.

"It's a little dance," Andrew explained, continuing to toss his thumbs about and gyrate his hips. "It's my jiggy dance."

Jeff nodded. Sagely. He could respect that. "You should consider more hopping," the budding choreographer advised Andrew.

Andrew added a hop. "Oh, you're good," he said approvingly.

Then he stopped. "Do you ever wish that life was more like a musical and people just spontaneously burst out into song and dance?"

"Yes," Jeff replied, like it was a totally ordinary question. "I've made sketches and everything. Mark my words, one day they're going to be put into practice at an appropriate moment! And there will be t-shirts and associated merchandise."

Turtle's influence.

In Andrew's eyes, Jeff just gained some surprising and unexpected depth. "Really? Maybe you can bring some of them on Thursday. I'm always up for learning new steps."

"I'll take the first volume!"

And Jeff, for his part, was now incredibly excited.

Andrew nodded excitedly, like he had some clue what the first volume was. Did Jeff really have volumes of dance routines?

"Sounds great! I'll make sure to wear comfortable shoes."

It probably isn't hard today.

Unlike avoiding Nana. She seems to be sprawling everywhere.

How did I just randomly fall asleep? How?! I blame radio. And

tricksy_spy.

YOU HAVE: NO TEA.

> GET BLACK PARTICLE

> You're dead. Stay out of this.

> There is an exit to port.

> Go port
> Go port
> Go port

> We lied about the exit to port.

> Go starboard

(Meanwhile: KEYBOARDSMASHASLKDJFSLKJDF)

HOW WAS THIS MY FAULT?

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The Arms Hotel Lobby, Tuesday

Get Food

Talk to Jeff

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Avoid Jeff

OOC

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