Needful Things, Tuesday

[knightinshinarmor]

Remy had found himself in Toronto this weekend -- never mind why -- and had spent most of yesterday sleeping off the after effects of having been thrown through a wall of the Royal Ontario Museum. So it was a groggy, extra disheveled Remy who showed up to his not-actually-a-job that day.

And yes, he knew he could just stay home. But his deep dark secret was a damn work ethic, so here he was. Doing a sale on . . . things with Chinese dragons on them.

Everyone admire his fish-fear-me mug. He stole it from Serval Industries.

[open!]

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[ifwebeworthy]

Don opened the door, looked around, and asked Remy, "Can you point me in the direction of your umbrella holder full of canes?" He assumed every antique store had one somewhere, and yes, he was currently holding his walking stick, but he needed a backup. For reasons.

(For Remy.)

[knightinshinarmor]

“Could do,” Remy said. “You want sword canes, flask canes, medical canes, dance canes. . . ?”

[ifwebeworthy]

"More like medical. Definitely not the first two," Don said. "I need something that can get through the TSA. I've got to go to Albany to deal with some red tape," or he continued to hold out the faintest hope it was actual red tape, "and I've got a bad leg that's sure to act up after a few hours in coach." Because coach.

[knightinshinarmor]

Remy could absolutely get his hands on a sword cane that could get through TSA, but to each their own.

“There’s your problem then, mon ami. Never fly coach.”

[ifwebeworthy]

Yeah, but Remy was Remy. Their baseline odds of slipping anything past the TSA were very different.

"Trust me, it wouldn't be my preference. I'm pretty sure it got even worse while I was dead."