fandomtownies | Covent Garden ... Seriously?: Tuesday

"..."

Hands on hips as she came in to open up the shop in Ino's absence, Eliza stared at it for a moment, then picked up the telephone on the counter, the one that couldn't possibly be a phone because where on earth was the crank, and carefully, one punch at a time, stabbed in the number for the Acme Sign Company.

"Hello. Yes. My name is Eliza Doolittle, of Covent Garden Flowers on Fandom Island, and I should like to speak to whomever has been handling the account for my shop. Immediately. No, you may not put me 'on hold;' we've never even met, and I don't sell that sort of ware, no matter what your signmakers believe. Now connect me to the clerk in charge of my account before I take the sign currently hanging outside my business, turn it sideways, cover it with marmalade and --"

The teal deer nosing about in the doorway spontaneously turned magenta, wobbled, fell over on its side, then slowly got up and scrambled away, is all we're saying.

"Thank you. Now. What I should like is-- No, I don't want a refund. ....No, I don't want another twelve sacks of flour. No, I do not want-- I don't care if you've a gentleman in the shop, I'm not finished speaking and you will listen here, young man:

I do not want a neon sign.
I do not want a sign that rhymes.
I do not lay down concrete floors
Or sell baked bread or pimp out whores.
I will not take your extra G's,
I will not mind my Q's and P's.
The only thing I want to see
Is what you owe me: one large E.
I shall expect it in the post
Tomorrow, and not made from toast
Or on a rope, or with a goat
Or hanging from a camel's throat.
And that is all I have to say.
Quite charmed to speak with you; Good Day.
"

Over the almost tangible silence from the junior under demi-assistant sign clerk on the phone, there was the sound in the distance of familiar, delighted laughter.

Very familiar.

"Oh, shut it, you're not even trying anymore. A convent? Honestly."

She hung up the phone so delicately you could almost imagine it was a bone-china teacup in her hand.

[Open for what is very likely to be Eliza's last shift. Which is a spoiler to no one.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She's even in rather a decent mood!

If you prefer.

Coffeeeeeeeeeeeee.

*giggles so much at Eliza's rhyming rant*

And I will miss her sign antics.

*Cracks up* *applauds* *gonna miss Eliza*

HEEEE.

*will miss Eliza so much*

Okay, Gordon's Concrete Floors made me laugh in ways that scared the cat. I'll miss Eliza, too.

Covent Garden ... Seriously?: Tuesday

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