fandomtownies | Devil's Nest, Monday, 1/07

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Devil's Nest, Monday, 1/07

After two weeks away due to the holidays, Jack dreaded his club shift today. He'd been keeping up with email and the most immediate tasks, of course, but there was still bound to be paper mail to open, Tiny and the DJ to deal with, budget spreadsheets to fill out ...

And, as it happened, a clogged soda gun that Tiny seemed to think it was Jack's job to fix. So he'd be ringing in his 2013 behind the bar, shirt sleeves rolled up, banging about with a wrench and pliers and trying to look like he had the faintest idea what he was doing.

He truly had the most glamorous jobs.

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Where bottled drinks may be safer today.

Far from the malfunctioning equipment.

Possibly with an Eric!

I am ded, send help.

April came into the bar with a community college course catalog to read, looked around for Jack, and was puzzled for a moment before peering over the bar.

"Whoa," she commented. "You can do things."

The surprise in her voice was mostly for teasing purposes. Mostly.

I will not send help, but I will send a picture of Tyler Posey in a terrible shirt:

"I think mostly I can break things," Jack sighed, waving the soda gun at April. "I don't suppose you know how this works. Tiny's decided it's my job."

OH GOD WHY.

I'd blame the stylist, but given his tattoo he is entirely capable of selecting that all by himself.

It looks like the kind of shirt a seven-year-old would pick out to give their dad as a gift. TYLER, WHY.

"I definitely don't," April replied, leaning over the bar on her elbows. "I'll give it a shot for free drinks for life."

She was totally not expecting him to take her up on that, no.

Jack snorted. "I can call a repairman in for less than what that would cost us, but nice try. Cover your eyes."

He thwacked the side of the soda gun nozzle hard on the bar facing away from April, and was rewarded with a sudden spurt of seltzer on the front of his shirt.

April grinned at that, plucking a maraschino cherry out of a tray on the bar and fiddling with the stem as she watched this spectacle. "Looks like you're getting it," she teased.

Schadenfreude. Sorry, Jack.

She was, however, kind enough to hand down some napkins.

Jack scowled at her, exaggerating the expression as he took the napkins and patted himself down. "Well, something came out of it," he sighed. "I have to take that as a good sign."

He went back to tinkering with the tubes. "Did you just come in here to mock me?" he asked, though he didn't sound like it bothered him.

"I didn't know there'd be a show," April pointed out. "I was gonna make you help me pick out my community college classes. Since you're a teacher now, apparently."

Beat.

"This is funnier."

"I'm sure," Jack said, tone dry despite the damp shirt. "I didn't know you were going to college."

"Yeah, I quit teaching, so my parents told me I had to," April said with a shrug. "Do I want to take..." She flipped to a random page in the course catalog she'd brought with her-- "Introduction to Lasers?"

No, she did not.

"Only if they teach you how to use them in battle, and I doubt it's that interesting," Jack said. "What about computer science? There always seems to be demand for that."

Not that he knew the first thing about computers, but anyhow.

"Mm, maybe," she said, flipping pages until she got to the right one. "'Computer Science 101: A hands-on experience in programming basic Javascript code.' Sounds okay."

"So that's something," Jack said. "Sorry I'm not much help. I'm a history major because it's the least painful degree to get on my way to law school."

"You're into law?" That was surprising for some reason. "Huh. Makes sense."

"I meant to be a detective," Jack said, finally setting the soda gun aside as if he were satisfied with his work. "The 21st century is a bit stricter about that particular trade than the 19th was."

Meaning crime scenes no longer let people like Sebastien just wander around solving crimes.

"Law seemed related, and less likely to make me bash my head into a wall out of frustration. But I've still got four and a half years of school."

"I don't remember this place when I was here before," Josh commented as he walked in. "No zombies makes it a definite step up."

Edited 2013-01-07 19:48 (UTC)

"We cater to a discriminating clientele who prefer their beer not smell like rotting brains," Jack nodded seriously, but in a way that suggested he was biting back a smile. "Welcome. Can I get you anything?"

"You need to be discriminating not to want the smell of rotting brains? Man, it has been a while," Josh said, grabbing a chair. "What do you recommend? I'm guessing 'not soda.'"

"We have a good Scotch selection," Jack offered, sussing up his new client as the kind of person who might like that. "How long ago were you here before? I've been here about three years. I can't speak for the club."

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Devil's Nest, Monday, 1/07

The Bar [1//07]

Dance Floor & Lounge [1/07]

VIP Section [1/07]

OOC [1/07]

Re: The Bar [1//07]

Re: OOC [1/07]

Re: The Bar [1//07]

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