maced_eggs | Post-It: ETD 00:14am [Video]

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Post-It: ETD 00:14am [Video]

[Down on level 4, Mason seems to have been in the process of cleaning up his horrible, horrible room. You can see the floor now! Where he sits, crosslegged, an infant brown bunny in his lap. He's feeding it lettuce, fond and preening.

On the door is tacked the sign Yard Sale.]

So I figure there are two things I need to do.

I am thinking that if I give away all of my things that Gwenny says I can't have any longer, I can earn my bloody stickers, get my powers back, an' give a home for Johnny Ramone.

So let's see what we've got...

[Mason pans his camera to the collection of booze, bongs, prescription pills, and general illicit or controlled substances he's managed to collect over his months on the Barge]

Seeing as how there is lit'rally no money on this boat, I will accept payment in the form of either rabbit things or stickers.

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He can watch me graduate an' leave this fuckin' place.

However we go about doin' that.

Right. However that might be.

Got to be a way, somehow. Everyone's got an angle.

Can't cheat the system, my friend. Not Death.

I don't know, the very fact I'm here and breathin' says otherwise.

You're undead. Like me. Caught in the in between for forty fuckin' years.

Hmmmmm, suppose you got a point there.

[And that's where the Loa ultimately took him, the in-between places. Made sense. ]

An' that's where we're likely to stay. Til graduation comes, 'course.

Which is what? Whenever they decide?

Whenever I've done...I dunno. Whatever I'm meant to do.

And just how are we supposed to know what we're meant to do, if there ain't no one to tell us that?

Wardens tell you that. Gwenny tells me all the time.

Can't say I'm a big fan of bein' told what to do.

You get told so many times how you're a fuck-up but no one helps you, you start realizing the benefit of being told your job.

Seems like they just wear you down, rather than help you.

That's why I drink.

Amen to that, friend.

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