Fandom Island and Town

Last week had actually not been too much of a disaster. Sure, Sweet Dee biffed her own routine, she sort of had no idea what Norman was doing, and Astrid was categorically unfunny and god she hated her face so much!, but people had actually come in to watch (sort of), so that was good. Plus, giving them the week off for it meant she hadn't had to be up for her stupid-early class the day after daylight savings time.

Which meant Sweet Dee was actually in a great mood for her bar shift; she might not even be too terrible that evening. Up until the point where she'd go on stage again, anyway, because she wanted this open mic thing to get some traction and not just be a one time thing for her class, and if she didn't get the ball rolling, who would? It was good to have the practice, too.

She clearly needed it, though if years and years of trying to do this nearly every night hadn't helped by now, it was probably a lost cause. She was, however, if anything, determined. About this. Which might actually make 'delusional' a better choice of words.

There was another poster board behind the bar again this Wednesday, but it wasn't one of Sweet Dee's signs for the Open Mic night. Oh, no. This was a sign for an even more promising opportunity, if in fact Tino (and possibly anyone else coming into the bar that evening) was interested in a little something called unparalleled success.

"So if you sign up for the Invigaron system today," she was explaining to her fellow bartender, "and take the first steps toward acheiving financial freedom. Invigaron!" With a winning smile, she gestured to the board. "A business opportunity as rare as the albani berries themselves."

And Tino had...so, so many questions. Like why Sweet Dee was apparently a berry salesman now? ("No, I'm a distributor, Tino, for a revolutionary new product that changes lives.") And what were those? ("Oh, hose are my new wrenches. I got those free for sitting through a 20-minute presentation.") So...it was a scam! ("No! No. Nonononono. It's not a scam at all. I also had reservations from the beginning, but these superberries? Grow ih the Andes mountains, okay? Alpacas can survive entire winters on this shit.")

But after fending off Tino's very excited questions about how these berries might give him superpowers to survive winters, Sweet Dee pulled out a machine and set it on the bar. "Now, come over here, Tino," she said, guiding him over and handing him two sensors hooked up to the device, "and hold onto these. Now, this machine is gonna measure the level of toxins in your body caused by stress. Okay, let's see..." She peered over at the little dial on the machine. "120, 140, 150...Oh, shit, Tino. 157? That's not good. Your units of stress! Are...very, very high...in your stress units, but don't even worry! Invigaron can help you. These berries are chock-full of antioxidants and phytonutrients."

Which was a huge relief, to say the least! So Tino was sold, Tino was in, so if Sweet Dee could just get for him one of those brochures over there on the other side of the bar? Sweet Dee was more than happy to get one for him...just as he was more than happy to point out the severe drop in his stress units the moment she was good and far, far away from him.

"...goddammit, Tino."

Caritas is open!

[[ and shamelessly stolen from S09E04 of IASIP, "Mac and Dennis Buy a Timeshare" ]]

"But, no, seriously, Tino," said Sweet Dee, who was not at all buying the Secret Family Recipe bull her coworker was trying to feed her just then, "what did you put in those cupcakes? Because it was not good, Tino. Not good! Ever since this morning, my stomach has been..."

Well. Let's just say, whatever Sweet Dee's stomach was going through, her description of it to Tino was very detailed and very graphic, and not at all safe for work, and squirrels with particularly delicate constitutions might want to cover their ears.

"So, yeah," Sweet Dee concluded, taking another swig of scotch to settle her stomach, because, yes, she up, that was totally a thing. "I wouldn't quit your day job, there, buddy."

[[and it's open!]]

Sweet Dee should probably not have come in to work today, considering that she looked like she could hop up on the stage and no one would be wiser for it. She'd probably blend in pretty well with those zombies.

Of course, she denied that anything was wrong, insisting that she was fine, she wasn't sick, and that it wasn't like a whole drove of people came in on Wednesday so far, anyway.

That wasn't going to stop Tino from very pointedly spraying disinfectant into the air whenever she passed by.


[[method rp, lol, I am dying, just throw me in the traaaaash. I'm around, though!]]

If there was anything strange going on with the taps, or anything breadstick related, or dealing with fried food or pasta or any of that in the bar today, Sweet Dee didn't know about it yet. Since she'd gotten in, she'd been fully engrossed by what was happening on the stage. Emphasis on the grossed. Because the band seemed to be having some trouble today keeping themselves...together.

Limbs, just...falling right off. All over the place. It was absolutely disgusting. And complete, totally enthralling, too. So Sweet Dee and Tino were spending most of their shifts leaning on the bar, watching in fascination, and making bets on what might happen next.

Tino put twenty bucks on the one losing his arms as he went to attach another's arm, but Dee shook her head. "No," she said. "No way. As soon as they get that arm back into place, that guy's other arm's going to pop right off."

Two minutes later, Sweet Dee was cackling in triumph, holding out a hand. "Yeah, that's right, pay up, dickweed."

Should everyone be worried that the two of them were getting along?

...yeah, probably.

[[open!]]

Oooh, see. Now, this was nice. This was real nice. This whole teaching gig was a real crap-shoot, Sweet Dee had already decided on that, so she was feeling pretty good about the fact that she'd managed to snag a second job that landed her in much more of a comfort spot: behind a bar, slinging drinks, being the cute, funny bartender who uses all these one-liners and hilarious jabs at the customers. This was her element. This was her place to really shine!

Of course, she mostly just couldn't get over how much nicer everything was in here than Paddy's. Sure, the band looked a little rough around the edges, but they were still a fair shot better off than some of the jerks they get rolling through her old bar. Everything worked the way it was supposed to, everything seemed nice and clean, and she still hadn't seen a single rat, either. This place was swanky as hell.

So, naturally, she had to pester Tino to take at least a few pictures of her taking advantage of working in a good bar for a change, so she could send it to the gang, who'd all pretty much laughed at her and took bets on whether or not she'd even last a week out there. A picture or two, with a nice, succinct message to go along with it:

Suck my dick, assholes.

[[open!]]