fandomtownies | Caritas- Friday

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Caritas- Friday

Kitty didn't know what she was doing in here today. She'd gotten lost walking around town and came in to ask directions, and this strange, large dining room just looked so dirty to her that she'd just had to clean it, all while Tino complained about the dodo that had tried to attack him earlier. She'd replied by telling him to sit down in the lounge and brought him a nice cold beer, since this strange house seemed to have so many available.

Cleaning was made slightly more difficult by the shiny blue ball currently tied to her wrist like a bracelet, which kept getting in the way as she tried to wash glasses.... which meant she was also doing a lot of saying "Oopsie," and then having to get out the broom again.

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"They get into everywhere," Kenzi said in dire tones. The Russian accent was making a random reappearance. "Lousy fascist fuzz. Pigs!" GLUG. Then Kenzi started rummaging, looking for where she'd hidden part of her ganja stash.

"There are pigs in here, too?" Kitty looked absolutely scandalized.

"Where?" Kenzi's head popped over the bar for a moment like ~~meta for~~ Daffy Duck. Then she ducked down again. Her hands shook. "Lady, you gotta hide me from the pigs! I'll do anything!"

"I don't know where the pigs are!" Kitty said. "But a large, strange house with a lot of broken glassware is no place for them! There are farms for that!"

"What?" Kenzi looked at the bottle of rum, then Kitty, and decided she wasn't stoned enough for this conversation. "Hang on. Gotta light up." Which she proceeded to do. Ahhhhh. "...what farm?"

Oh, god, Kenzi, don't give Kitty a contact high on top of all this.

"...I don't know."

Smoke! Lots and lots of funny-smelling smoke.

"Well, if you don't know, I'm screwed. They'll send me to the farm-- the CHAIN GANG FARM," Kenzi realized. "And I'll wind up digging ditches. Or laundry. Or... I just wanted to be freeeeee!"

Cue sobbing. And more inhaling.

"Digging ditches is men's work," Kitty told her. "And who doesn't love to do laundry?"

Commies! Commies like Kenzi!

"Ermmm..." Sneaky side-eyeing there. "Some people just aren't good at it, you know, our moms, our moms didn't have washing machines..."

In Soviet Russia, machines wash YOU.

Kitty stared at her.

"But everyone's good at laundry!"

No, they weren't.

"Where's that smoke coming from?"

...In front of you, Kitty.

"Did I set myself on fire again?!" Panic! Panic at the bar! "//Shit!//" Without subtitles, this time. "..oh, okay, just my Mary Jane here. Whew. Heh. Nothing to see here!"

You said that before, Kenzi.

"But you're right there," Kitty said, because yes, she fell for that again.

"No no no..." Okay, maybe Kitty needed a toke? "Here, smoke some of this, it'll help!"

HOW IS THAT BETTER THAN A CONTACT HIGH? HER BRAIN WILL COLLAPSE.

"But it smells funny," she complained. "I think it's gone bad."

And take Kenzi's with hers by force of density!

Kenzi crossed her eyes at the joint, inhaling the smoke off the end to check, then coughing. "You think?" She clambered upward, leaning on the bar, rum in her other hand. "Heeeey. I was going to--" Frowny-face. "What were we talking about?"

Kitty thought about it. "...Pigs and fuzz?"

Congratulations, Kitty, you remembered a thing!

And scared the crap out of Kenzi. Nice job!

"AHHHH!"

That would be Kenzi running away. Leaving her joint burning on the bar top, still clutching that bottle of rum and baggie of weed. Wheeee!

"You left your funny-smelling thing!" Kitty called after her.

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