fandomtownies | Devil's Nest, Monday, 10/20

Entry tags:

Devil's Nest, Monday, 10/20

The mailman had been asleep on the job again. Or at least, that was the only way Jack could make sense of the dozens of boxes of Mooby Land paraphernalia that were piled behind the bar when he got into work that day.

The worst part was that Tiny wouldn't wear a Mooby Kidz t-shirt with matching hat, no matter how much Jack flattered or begged.

"You're no fun at all," Jack informed the other bartender, and tried to figure out what kind of cocktail one might be able to make with "dehydrated chick-n-nugget powder." All his initial concepts were -- he forgave himself the pun -- truly foul.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Of course he's not wearing a Mooby Land t-shirt. He's too dignified.

Yeah, Éponine didn't know either, judging from how she came in, glanced at the stacks of boxes, and immediately declared, "I had nothing to do with that, I didn't!"

"You didn't think I needed a gallon of 'cocoa milklike-shake product'?" Jack asked, eyebrow arched. "I believe you, but it might be time to fire someone."

His smile revealed he wasn't serious, or not entirely so.

"Perhaps you did, who am I to say? People may order some strange things, but it's entirely their business, so long's I get paid for delivering it," Éponine shot back with a crooked but good-natured smile of her own. "Though really, I haven't a thing to do with these. We have been getting an awful lot of large, odd deliveries going to strange places lately. I call 'em in sometimes, you know. Every now and then something comes in and I tell myself, well, that looks terribly silly, doesn't it? I know that shop, I know what they sell, and why in hell would they be needing that sort of thing? So I do call 'em in."

She rolled her eyes and went on in a mildly annoyed tone, "It's only that they tell me it isn't my place to decide these things, and they'll look into the matter, but how they do take their time about it!I suspect they're tired of hearing from me by now."

Someone had very little patience with bureaucracy, it seemed.

"Because God forbid they fix anything on the island," Jack said acridly. "They wouldn't want to make us too comfortable."

He cast an eye on the boxes. "I could rickshaw these over to Mooby Land. I imagine that would be what a nice person would do."

The question, of course, was whether Jack wanted to do the nice thing.

"I suppose it is," said Éponine, who still wasn't always sure what constituted nice. She raised an eyebrow. "But will you actually do it, now -- there's something else entirely. We've a little cart we use at the post office for things like this, but I don't get to use it often."

Probably her not having a license had something to do with that. Or maybe it was that she was a reckless driver, judging from the couple of times she had gotten to use it.

"We just get the drivers in town to take on our deliveries when we need to," Jack shrugged. (Or he'd carry them himself, since it wasn't as though werewolves tired easily.) "But if you're offering, I'd bring them over to the post office to load them up."

"Well. We'd have to wait until later, after the post to go out tomorrow has all been brought in, but . . ." Éponine pursed her lips and frowned, apparently giving this some serious thought. "I suppose it is what nice people would do."

She wouldn't even be getting anything out of it herself. Her father would give her hell for doing something for another person with no personal gain, but -- no, somehow that made her more inclined to do it.

"Besides that, I'd rather not have someone from Mooby Land come in to shout at us about it later."

Okay, maybe some personal gain.

"Not with the way they reek of grease," Jack shuddered. "The post office would smell like a vat of oil for a week. Really, that's worse than the yelling. I'll bring them by tomorrow and spare us both that."

"In that case, thank you kindly, monsieur, since I'd much rather escape that!" Éponine wrinkled her nose, but she was laughing. "Except I think you might mind it more than me. My nose isn't quite as sensitive as yours, and god knows I've smelled worse."

She meant in the abstract, but . . . well, it was true of herself, too.

"Me, I think the yelling's what I'd rather avoid."

"Really?" Jack asked, leaning forward on his elbows. "Yelling's never bothered me much. I can yell back, and anyhow they run out of breath sooner or later."

"Oh, I'll shout back, just as much as they can, but I've had my fill of it," Éponine said, a touch too lightly. "I don't care much for when folks don't smell very nice, but I like it even less when they're loud and unpleasant."

"There are so many loud and unpleasant people in the world, though," Jack observed with a wrinkled nose. "They always seem to be in line in front of me at the store."

"Yes, there's only so much one can avoid them," Éponine conceded. "So I go to some trouble to make sure I do avoid it where I can."

She paused and laughed. "And that isn't in line at a store, sadly."

"You can put your order down and walk out,"Jack suggested idly. "But that would inconvenience you more than them, which isn't fair."

"It's silly to expect things to be fair," Éponine said, and yes, that in her tone was a lot of cynicism for her age but she felt she'd earned it. "And I'd rather suffer through that than go without food --" because she'd had enough of that, too -- "so it's just as well I can occupy myself with some game or other on my phone and try to ignore them."

Oh, yes. She was becoming part of that problem. You know. The one that wasn't really one.

"Found any good ones lately?"

Which was Jack's way of saying he had the problem that wasn't a problem, too.

"S'pose that depends on what you mean by good," Éponine said thoughtfully. "There's one, it's very silly, with vegetables who've got faces, and you've got to match them up. It's a bit like the one with the candy."

Because it was by the same company and therefore the same brand of evil.

"It's absurd, it really is. The vegetables make noises! Really now! But it's awfully easy to get lost in playing it after a while, so it passes the time."

She was not mentioning how often she ended up swearing at her phone in frustration.

Free dehydrated chick-n-nugget powder for all! And a dance floor and a lounge, too, if that's what you're into.

Where a vampire and any other really cool kids may lurk.

My hands are cold. Warm them up for me.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Devil's Nest, Monday, 10/20

Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Re: Talk to Jack [10/20]

Mod Your Nightclub [10/20]

VIP Section [10/20]

OOC [10/20]