fandomtownies | Freelance Police Headquarters, Tuesday

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Freelance Police Headquarters, Tuesday

"OOOH! Snow! SNOW!!!"

A chance glance out the window distracted Max from the television, where some guy with funny ears was trying to steal HIS job. Usurper forgotten, and squealing with childlike glee, he threw open the window to welcome the winter weather.

"Hold my ankles, Sam! HOLD MY ANKLES!!!" Without waiting to see if Sam would or not, he leaned dangerously far out the window, trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue.

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Which you can do today from OUTSIDE the building, even!

"You don't want to watch this?" Sam asked, tilting the coat hanger to try to get better TV reception. "The old guy hasn't even tried to take down the new guy. They're just letting him have the office."

A novel approach. When Max had beaten the reanimated statue of Abraham Lincoln for the presidency, Abe had gone on a rampage through DC.

"That's the problem with kids these days," Max answered, leaning farther out the window. "No sense of pride in their work. Why, back in my day, a job MEANT something!"

"Usually, bullet-holes and traumatized civilians," Sam said, clicking off the television.

And then he shoved Max out the window.

As you do.

"WHEEEEEE!!!"

Max's cries of exultation were cut short by the all-too-soon thump of a body hitting soft snow. "Hey, that was pretty fun!" he exclaimed, as he stood up.

Then he barreled up the stairs and ran, shoulder down like a football linebacker, to try and give Sam a friendly nudge so he could have a turn.

It was really thoughtful of Max, to share like that. Sam would be sure to tell him when he got back to the office.

The upside of landing on snow: better cushioning than pavement. Downside? Cold, melting snow, stuck against your face. He dusted himself off and thumped back up the stairs.

"If it's that much fun, I'm sure you wanna go again," Sam grumbled, picking Max up by the scruff of his neck and flinging him out the window.

Max clung to the window frame like a clingy thing that clung. "Naahh, if you do it more than once, it's not as special," he answered. "It sort of cheapens the moment."

"Does this mean you don't wanna play William Tell any more?" Sam asked. Still pushing Max against the windowframe. "Some things never get old. Like firing into crowds, and mail fraud."

If you have a case, or if the passing of Sunday's excitement leaves you sad.

We is CRAZY peoples!

.... "Hold my ankles" sounds vaguely dirty.

I can't unsee it.

Awwww, you know you want my cute fuzzy ass, buddy!

I couldn't unsee it, so I just jammed forks into my eyes instead.

So I'm dead now.

At least I make an interesting zombie.

I know!

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Freelance Police Headquarters, Tuesday

Talk to Sam and Max

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PHONE!!!

OOC

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