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Turtle & Canary; Saturday [ 04/26 ]

In a rare turn of events, Turtle was actually reluctant to go into the store today, considering that last night had been nice and this morning had been even nicer, and her suspicions were confirmed because it turned out that Apu was in quite the complaining mood, going on and on about all the noise coming from the park today.

"Apu," she muttered, rubbing her temple, "can you please just can the complaining? I'm sure whatever it was, it's some Fandom thing and we're better of just not knowing and avoiding it and hoping for a nice, quiet day."

"Miss Turtle, I am sorry, but I do not think it will be one of those days."

"Oh, go...clean up in Aisle Seven, or something."

Today's Squishy flavors: Chocolate Chip Cookie, Spaghetti-O's, Grape Judas

Turtle & Canary is open.

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Kids, he makes a GREAT jungle gym, really!

Because that will turn out well.

There will be a slice of time where I'm not around for other Obligations, but yes. Kidlets. Eee.

"Eyes! Eyes!"

It was not the usual battlecry of the Jeff that heralded his entrance to the store, today. He stumbled in, clinging to the boy's ankles as tightly as he could, and attempted to look at things when it was really pretty much physically impossible to do so.

"I need them to see things!"

Really, you think dad would be used to it by now. Trip tried to steer him better by pressing his thighs against the side of dad's head so he wouldn't do the whole hearing thing too much.

Dad hearing never really ended well.

He did, after a moment's consideration, let go of his eyes, and bellowed, in a tone not unlike Jeff's own greeting call, "MUM! I've come to see the accounts!"

No, this was most certainly not the usual battlecry at all. Turtle stared for a moment at the spectacle that was her boyfriend coming in with what looked almost like a little tiny Mini-Jeff on his shoulders.

There was a long, long pause.

"I am going to kill Apu. Jeff, please don't tell me that this is our kid..."

Jeff was pretty sure he could see Turtle's lips moving. "What?" he asked, at which point several possible scenarios managed to find his brain simultaneously, causing him to blurt, "I think he's out for ankles!"

It was probably best not to ask. "I didn't do it!"

"Mum, I'm high up in the food chain now like you said, can I see the accounts?"

Trip felt his demands were very fair and balanced, as opposed to his seat, which seemed to be wriggling a little underneath. "Daaaaad. Will you balance? This is important business!"

"You're not seeing the accounts," Turtle said, crossing her arms over her chest as she gave the kid a look. "Not until I see some proper identification. Also, get off of Jeff will improve your chances significantly, as well."

"I'm Trip Wexler," Trip said, in what he felt was a firm and businesslike tone, "and I'll get off dad if you let me see the accounts." He wobbled a little more, thought about his negotiation a little more, and added, "And I'll make a not to keep the store in its original state when I finish the island reno-- ren-- rebuilding plans."

He was totally being fair. Giving a little too much, even.

"Island rebuilding plans?" Turtle asked, arching an eyebrow at this supposed Trip Wexler kid and then sent her eyes toward Jeff, to see if he knew anything about any of this.

She had remembered something like this last year; last year, she'd been spared. Because, last year, she didn't have a boyfriend.

So, technically, this was all Jeff's fault, so he'd better have some information although, Turtle took one glance toward him and knew that was hopeless, really.

"Ears," Jeff managed, weakly, in return. He'd gone from gripping Trip's ankles to pointlessly waving his hands at the boy perched on his head, a little like flyswatting. It made Trip teeter more dangerously.

"I'm gonna--" Trip suddenly made a very dangerous swerve to the left, barely clinging to his dad's neck and shoulders just to stay in place at all. "Acqu-whatsits the island, mum."

"Acquiesce," Turtle finished, a little wide eyed at the potentially lawsuit-inspiring fall that she saw flashing before her eyes. "Trip, I think you should get off your...uh...dad's," she said it with a particular look at poor Jeff that seemed to make it clear that this whole thing had completely killed any chance he'd ever have to make Trip logically enter this world at another place and time, "shoulders for the time being. He's not looking too well."

Trip was heavy. Jeff dropped to his knees, gave the boy another desperate little shove, and found, much to his relieved surprise, that suddenly there was no more boy on his shoulders, but rather a boy on the floor.

Jeff pushed back up onto his feet, putting several long strides between him and Trip, and made a gesture that was obviously intended to ward off the-- "Evil."

"Ow."

Scrambling to his feet, Trip proceeded to trip over his own toes a time or four before he finally found sure footing, his legs pointed weirdly sideways and one of his fingers pressed to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he said, made another dangerous little jiggle sideways, and finished, "that probably works better when you wear mum's safety pads."

Turtle winced. She couldn't help it. The whole thing just looked painful on all accounts.

"Safet-- Wait, never mind. I don't think I want to know."

But she'd just witness a physical disaster of nearly Jeff proportions and the kid was talking about taking over the island.

Even a DNA test wouldn't make it any more obvious than that, leaving the only thing to say to be, "Holy crap, we have a kid."

"It's not my fault!" Jeff declared, again, and he really wasn't as panicked as he'd expected. More a little offended, really. "He jumped me!"

Turtle frowned. "Is that true, Trip?"

"I had to be up high to see things." He stretched his back up careful careful now, brushed off his suit, and beamed. "High up in the food chain!"

"Evil," Jeff simply repeated, along with the hand motion that communicated roughly the same. "Evil."

He slipped past one of the aisles so he could get near Turtle without having to be near Trip, and stayed there, hanging back.

Turtle was unable to smirk a little bit at all of Jeff's mutterings, his shifting, looking back toward where he'd moved for a moment before turning her attention to the kid.

"People who are high up on the food chain," she pointed out, leaning forward on the counter and folding her arms as she looked over at her supposed son, "don't need to climb up on other people to get where they're at. No climbing up on people unless they say it's okay, okay? Because you don't want to step on people, but friends to help support you are good things to have if you're going to be acquiesce an entire island."

"But it's dad!" Negotiation was his lot in life, which had done wonders for Trip's skills in it. Most of the time. "He's always going on about his shoulders," Trip pointed out, with only the slightest hint of a Welsh edge to his voice, "and I thought he brought the safety padding."

"I don't have padding," Jeff piped up. He felt he still had to add something to the conversation; he just wasn't sure what. "My shoulders just grew like that."

Oh, good Lord. Two Jeffs with Jeff logic. Turtle was feeling glad they had a plentiful stock of aspirin right now.

"Well, then...you...should have checked for the padding before you did that. The end."

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Turtle & Canary; Saturday [ 04/26 ]

Mod Apu -- 04/26

Talk to Turtle -- 04/16

OOC -- 04/26

Re: Talk to Turtle -- 04/16

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