fandomtownies | Turtle & Canary; Wednesday [ 02/01 ].

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Turtle & Canary; Wednesday [ 02/01 ].

Britta was not happy.

She thought of not showing up. She thought of just refusing to participate in this slave labor that she as being reduced to, but then she thought about how prison would suck and how if she and Elphaba refused to work at the store to help pay for the items they had stolen yesterday, then Samus would retract the incredibly generous donation he had ~~handwavily~~ made when he found out why they were stealing, and then Britta would just feel like a real jerk.

"He's probably just doing it as a tax write-off, anyway," Britta murmured in complaint to the turtle sitting with her by the register. And then she looked at the turtle thoughtfully for a moment, it's little head peaking out curiously as it's legs propelled it slowly across the counter.

About ten minutes later, the turtle was wearing a wee little hat.

"Heee."

Britta was feeling a little bit better now.

Today's Squishy flavors: Rebellion, Revolution, Red

Turtle & Canary is open!

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Thank you, come again!

Because no one wants to see what she has planned to put on the panda.

No one.

So Nana had stolen some dog food two weeks ago.

This happened more often than not, but it always took a while to uncover.

And so now Dolf was here, shuffling towards the counter with his shoulders slumping and clutching the dog f--

"Is that a turtle wearing a hat?"

Yes, Dolf. Yes, it was.

Britta looked at the turtle, looked at the boy, then looked back to the turtle.

She nodded her head.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, it is."

And then Britta's face twisted a little, the veneer of a straight face beginning to crack, but she managed to force it down under control that it only came out as an amused snort before her face went serious again. And red, from the effort of holding in her amusement.

HAT!

Dolf frowned at her.

"Is it supposed to be wearing a hat?" he said, setting the dog food (teeth marks on the can and all) on the counter. "Are you feeding it properly?"

Dolf Wega: always ready to champion the rights of the weak.

"Dude," said Britta, frowning back and feeling her championing ground being challenged without even realizing it, and, besides, by the look of those cans, it didn't look like he had any right to criticize her pet feeding skills. He did have kind of a sexy accent, though. "It's my first day. And why shouldn't it be wearing a hat? Don't turtles deserve hats, too?"

"Turtles aren't supposed to wear hats," Dolf pointed out. "They're pretty well-dressed in their shells."

Yes. This was going to be a point of contention.

Britta narrowed her eyes slightly, the slightly sexy accent losing its purchase in this conversation. "This turtle is a rebel," she said. "It doesn't care about the conventions of what it's supposed to do, or what it should or should not wear. Besides," she pulled herself up importantly, "he's classy."

Dolf squinted at her.

"Aren't top hats a human thing? Aren't you just pretending it's human now?" he said sensibly. Mostly because he didn't know what 'anthropomorphism' meant. "And anyway, you still haven't told me what you're feeding it."

"Aren't you being a little bit speciesist by saying only humans can enjoy hats?" Britta countered. "It's thinking like that that only propagates the belief that hats need to be restricted to purely human activities. And I've been feeding the turtle food that the employee handbook says I should be feeding it, which isn't speciesist, by the way, because feeding a turtle something other than turtle food is harmful to the turtle, but allowing a turtle to look dapper and adorable harms no one except evil, brainwashed speciesists!"

By the end of the speech, Britta's hands had both pounded on the counter and she'd leaned herself over the counter to make a more appropriate soap-boxing posture, never once paying notice to the fact that she was talking about a turtle and not the genocide of millions or anything remotely important, either.

By the end of the speech, Dolf's brow was so furrowed it almost took ten years off his life. He had not brought his soapbox to work today, but he was sorely starting to wish he had, because soapboxing was his turf, and he could tell when someone was using it for evil.

"Who put the hat on the turtle?" he asked. "The turtle?"

Britta's lips puckered a little. "No," she admitted in full disclosure, "but he hasn't exactly taken it off yet, either, has he?"

"You can't really ask him, can you?" Dolf said, squinting at her. "Have you even tried?"

Britta's jaw moved around a little bit as she glared at the boy; then, she drew in a deep breath, folded her hands in front of her on the counter, and asked, "Turtle, how do you feel about the dapper new hat I found for you? You like it, don't you?"

Turtle was mostly just trying to crawl up into the Leave a Penny, Take a Penny bowl, which had long since been turned into a bath for him.

"He's a turtle."

He, it, whatever.

"So maybe you put the hat on it to amuse yourself."

Dolf hadn't cared that much when this discussion had begun. But now it was a Thing.

"No," said Britta, firmly. "If I wanted to amuse myself, then I'd be wearing the hat."

And, because that was clearly an iron-clad argument, she topped it off with a "So there" of finality.

"Then why did you put the hat on the turtle?" Dolf pressed. "Without asking?"

That was not a final argument, Britta.

Britta could have tried to defend herself on that, but, realizing that she'd left one loophole open, she decided not to chance it and decided to just meet his question with another question.

"Why are you so against turtles wearing hats?"

"I just want to be sure it's looked after well," Dolf retorted.

Argue THAT.

"Oooooh," said Britta, adopting an overly acted spooky voice as she lifted her hands and waggled her fingers, "oh, no, there's a cardboard hat on some turtle's head. It's in so much danger of being happy and looking dashing."

She dropped her hands and the act and then looked across the counter at the boy. "Seriously?"

Dolf's eyes rolled, and he was starting to feel annoyed.

Okay, it was just a turtle. And just a hat. But she was being so very-- whatever she was, about it.

Whoever she was?

So of course he wouldn't do something as sensible as 'stop arguing about it'.

"You still don't know whether he's really happy," he retorted, "And why is it so important for you he wears that hat, anyway?"

"I know he's not unhappy," Britta countered. "And maybe he's wearing the hat because he just wants to look nice."

"He's wearing the hat because you put it on him."

This could go on for a while.

"Well, he couldn't have put it on himself."

...Yep.

Edited 2012-02-01 21:12 (UTC)

"But he didn't exactly ask you for it, did he?" Dolf said.

He felt the most curious urge to wave his arms around.

Britta was just going to take a moment to let her irritation simmer a little, her arms folded resolutely over her chest.

"Does he exactly ask to be fed?" she prompted.

"No, but if you put him near food, he would make that clear," Dolf argued right on back.

Somewhere, Fibonacci was laughing his ass off and he didn't know why.

"And if he didn't want the hat," Britta insisted, "then he'd take it off."

Dolf gave into temptation at last and threw his hands up. "Can his feet even reach the hat?" he said.

No one would blame the turtle for sneaking out while these two were in the middle of it.

Britta was just going to affix a firm look on him, taking the thrown up hands as a sign of a weakening spirit, which gave her strength.

Or, at least, it gave her a slightly crazed look to her insistent eyes.

"Does it matter?"

"How else do you expect him to take it off? He can barely move his head!"

Not a weakening spirit, Britta. Just judgey judgement.

"Yeah," said Britta, "but he could just put his head in his shell and knock the hat off. If he's so oppressed by the hat right now, then why hasn't he done that?"

"I never said he was oppressed by the hat!"

Dolf's headache was starting to pulse at the back of his head.

"But you said he wanted to have the hat on. And you haven't proven that yet."

This post is brought to you by Stuff On My Cat (http://stuffonmycat.com/).

Edited 2012-02-01 18:06 (UTC)

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Turtle & Canary; Wednesday [ 02/01 ].

Mod your Shopping - 02/01.

Talk to Britta - 02/01.

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OOC - 02/01.