Caritas- Tuesday

[throughaphase]

Kitty was not actually working. Well, she was, if anyone came in, but work was a good way to finish wrapping presents without a seven-year-old making up convenient excuses to come by. She'd commandeered a table I the lounge as a wrapping station and had at least confined her mess to there.

As for the caroling gremlins... well, they were onstage. With the zombies. They were current working through Little Drummer Boy and Kitty was wondering how fast she could possibly be done with this and flee.


[Open!]

Town Hall, Tuesday

[weirderthanthou]

There was a knock on the door. That, in itself, was unusual: the door was unlocked, the idea was that anyone could walk right in.

So Jesse denied her every instinct to just leave it be, and got up to open it. It flew open to reveal-- a band of gremlins in a variety of clashing outfits.

She blinked.

The mohawked gremlin at the front opened his mouth. What came out was a true onslaught of sound. "OUTSIDE THE CAROLERS START TO SING, I CAN'T DESCRIBE THE JOY THEY BRING 'CAUSE JOY IS SOMETHING THEY DON'T BRING ME--auuggh."

The gremlin beside him yoinked her elbow out of her friend's ribs and brushed her long bangs out of her face. At a more sedate volume, she sang, "So I stand with a dead smile on my face, wondering how much of my time they'll waste-- Oh God, I hate these Satan's helpers-- And then I guess I must've snapped, because I grabbed a baseball bat, and made them all run for shelteeeEEEEr!"

And just like that, the whole off-key gremlin horde threw their back into the song. "IT'S CHRISTMAS TIME! AGAIN! IT'S TIME TO BE NICE TO THE PEOPLE YOU CAN'T STAND! ALL YEAR! I'M GROWING TI--"

Jesse closed the door. It seemed like the decent thing to do.

As she walked back to her seat, she could still faintly hear a jolly chorus in the background--

"Please post my bail! Please post my bail!"

"Check with the sheriff's office on that one, will you?" Jesse told her assistant, and sighed.

[[ open! ]]

The Devil's Nest, Tuesday Night

[my_own_advocate]

"No, no, no," Lucifer had informed the gremlin carolers at the start of the night.

They had insisted.

He had yelled 'no' again, several times, and finally directed them to at least sing quietly in the corner.

But as the evening progressed, and he spent more time behind the piano-- well.

"Oh, fine," he called, near midnight. "Who among you knows 'Fairytale of New York'? Get on the piano."

The Devil's Nest was open, and the Devil was making lemonade out of an excruciatingly messy bag of lemons.