fandomtownies | Graduation Brunch: The Park, Sunday, mid-morning to mid-afternoon

A banner, the letters wrapped with fresh spring flowers, hung from the trees, spelling out CONGRATULATIONS, CLASS OF 2009! No missing letters or anything.

Spread out across the park were plenty of tables and chairs, some under the shade of picnic shelters, some out on the grass in the sunshine. For those who felt like getting back to nature, there were even red and white checked blankets spread out in a few areas for old-fashioned picnic-y goodness. Lack of ants not guaranteed.

The long table that ran along next to the picnic shelters was laden with a vast ~~moddable~~ array of traditional brillig-y food, including fruit, veggie snacks, breakfast pastries, sandwiches for the especially hungry or those who arrived more toward the unch end of brunch, and a wide variety of J,GoB-catered desserts. Drinks included coffee, tea, juices and soft drinks, and while there were plates provided, there were also wee picnic-basket-shaped trays for carrying things back to your seat, wherever that might be.

A space had been cleared for dancing, if people cared to do more than just listen to the light music being played through the speakers, and there was also an area set aside for outdoor games of croquet, horseshoes, or frisbee.

Everybody's welcome. Come celebrate with the Class of '09!

[OOC: ~~Wait for the OCD. Don't make Eliza Doolittle have to cut a bitch.~~ OPEN! And no one had to get cut! It's a good day!]

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"It's a type of kumquat," Max informed him.

No, it wasn't.

"But that's not important right now. We've come to force you to take things."

"Oh, what a difficult life I lead," Reno mused, grinning faintly. "Is it another dead pigeon? The ferret really liked the last one, yoto."

"Slightly more valuble," Sam said, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out an envelope. "Your corporation has received a lucrative government contract, in recognition of past services rendered."

Okay, they'd embezzled some money for him. He'd been a fun employee. And it wasn't like it was their money.

"Also, there's this," Max told him.

He held out a very important looking document, with gold embossing and curly writing and everything, that said:

BY THE AUTHORITY of the office of the President, and the power invested therein by the Constitution of the United States of America, I, Maximillian the First, do hereby PARDON Reno of the Turks for any and all offenses, criminal or civil, that he has or may have committed, and any such offenses that he may yet commit, forever and ever until the end of time neener neener.

(signed) Maximillian I
President of the United States of America

The effect was only somewhat spoiled by it being printed on a piece of yellow fabric.

"It's a blanket pardon," Max clarified.

Edited 2009-05-04 02:37 (UTC)

Money, and what was possibly the most amazing bedspread Reno had ever seen.

Damn, these two were far more kickass bosses than Tseng. Why did he have to move off of the island, again?

"I'm gonna miss you guys," he decided, then and there. "Who else is gonna shoot at me while I'm doin' paperwork and answerin' phones?"

Aside from the rookie. She got dangerous when he teased her about Tseng.

"We accept bids for that sort of work," Sam offered helpfully. "If you need someone to shoot at you, we're always available."

Graduation Brunch: The Park, Sunday, mid-morning to mid-afternoon

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