maced_eggs | Post-It: ETD 00:01am

[Spam for the Dining Room, Morning]

[Last night, Mason, Grim Reaper, age 27 and dead for the last forty years, shucked off his muddy, blood-stained clothes and fell asleep on a couch in his Union Jack underwear.

This morning, Mason, still dead, wakes up on the Barge.

Mason's never been much of what anyone might call "consciously aware", or "observant." For example; he fails to observe he is not in his home when he wakes up. He fails to observe that all of his clothes have gone missing.

What he does observe is that he is bloody starving, and needs a very, very large breakfast to erase the nightmare of the day before. So after failing to observe that he is completely pantsless, Mason shuffles out of his room and off to find food.

Which is why, still half asleep and very nearly naked, is a man barging through the breakfast bar gathering up as many miniature cereal boxes in his arms as he possibly can. He doesn't merely stop when they're all gone: systematically, he goes around to every table he nears and plucks them from unsuspecting eaters when he guesses they're not looking.

Arms loaded with cereal, the mysterious, nearly naked man attempts to make a retreat.

He doesn't yet have the capacity to guess where he is at the moment, aside from the completely unhelpful "Not at home." But at least there will always be Fruit Loops.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

patheticvillain

[Cassel, like a civilized human being, is wearing pants. Also a shirt. Also shoes. He also only has one cereal box. Overall, he's doing well for himself today.]

[Mason is not doing well for himself, clearly. Cassel doesn't entirely know what to make of half-naked men juggling cereal boxes, but when said half-naked men attempt to steal his cereal box, he slaps their hands away.]

[That is to say: please note him currently slapping Mason's hand away.]

Get off.

From:

maced_eggs

[Shame on you, Cassel. Mason is so wearing shoes.

Well, fluffy blue slippers, at any rate, probably stolen from Georgie. Or someone else. He can't quite remember.

Waking up at ow, the very real pain of being smacked away, Mason squints down at Cassel, and makes another grab at the cereal box]

Oi, look over there, it's Mick fucking Jagger!

[That cereal box is his, dammit. It has marshmallows in it]

From:

patheticvillain

[Nope, you just get another slap.]

Do I look like I give a shit about imaginary Mick Jagger? There are probably a thousand cereal boxes here, go steal someone else's.

[His marshmallows. His.]

From:

maced_eggs

[Making a sound like a wounded kitten, Mason drops his entire armload of mini cereal boxes onto Cassel's table and drops down in front of him, rummaging through the boxes]

How's about this. I'll trade you. Your Lucky Charms for my Honey Nut Cheerios. You're not going to get a better trade'n than, I guarantee you.

[He holds up the box with both hands, showing it to Cassel like he's Vanna White]

Says right here it reduces cholesterol. And you can't put a price on that, can you? S'way better than a bunch of stale marshmallows.

C'mon, hand it over. C'mon c'mon c'mon.

From:

patheticvillain

[He just stares dead-eyed at Mason. It is way too early in the morning for this bullshit.]

Okay, here are the issues with your argument.

Point one, Honey Nut Cheerios are several tiers of excellence down from Lucky Charms. They have no marshmallows in them and way less sugar. I would be trading down. No deal.

Point two, I'm not taking some random asshole's cereal, it might be poisoned.

Point three, my cholesterol's fine, and even if it wasn't, I've already died three times, I don't care.

Point four, you're not wearing pants.