eight | stupid holiday nonsense... bull

[strike_you_out]

[Phone |  The telephone cord stretches from the kitchen all the way to the first step outside the door on the side of the house where, hopefully, this call will go unheard by other members of the household. "Christmas" and "gift-giving" are still very strange concepts in Slugger's mind.]


What do--

... ...

[Dammit, why is he even--  

Just. Spits it out.]    ...What do "mothers" like?


[Action |  While he ponders this, Slugger will be out shoveling snow off the driveway. It may look like a chore but he's actually doing this to uncover the icy death-trap and personal skating rink he created last week (which covers the entire driveway, the side-walk in front, and part of the street.)

And once the driveway is cleared, he'll be skidding up and down it -- he really does miss his skates. No, he does not care that he's about to cross into the direct trajectory of that oncoming vehicle.

SIDE-NOTE: One Edward Nigma may find that his socks have mysteriously gone missing...]

Comments

[likescats.livejournal.com]

ALRIGHT.

WHEN WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO?

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

Today, after I finish the driveway. I'll come over.

[Expect unusual great-grandson at your home in 60 minutes.]

[likescats.livejournal.com]

VERY WELL. I WILL SEE YOU THEN.

[When he arrives, Death will be in the house looking at the calender.]

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

[Slugger will be standing silently by, holding Rincewind and watching. It's been about one hour since they spoke on the phone.]

...

[likescats.livejournal.com]

[Glances over as he puts the calender down. Someday he'll figure out where the extra time went.]

HELLO SLUGGER. READY TO GO TO THE STORES?

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

[He nods and eventually lets down the cat. Hope you don't mind shopping with a thief. Slugger doesn't value the idea of paying for things.]