Post-It: ETD 00:18am [Video]

[maced_eggs]

[So since he's not permitted in the pub anymore, Mason has decided that the pool is a close second preference. Wearing a swimsuit with the Union Jack on it, he lies half in and half out of an inner tube, his rabbit perched precariously on his chest. Do rabbits like water? Can they swim? Who knows?

He drums his fingers on the inner tube, petting a sniffy rabbit with his free hand]

...Right.


Evening, Barge. Or, morning, or whatever the fuck time it is.

Let's you and me have a little betting game. I bet...you can't knock me out of this tube. You bet you can.

If I win, you've got to go get me a beer from the pub.

And if you lose, you've got to go get me a beer from the pub.

First challengers being accepted now.

Comments

[anewlanguage]

Hey now, I've learned my lesson. Iris would string me up if I didn't treat her right.

If you're serious about the bet, I'll bring you one. [But he is totally going to try to throw you out of that tube.]

[maced_eggs]

I am serious. Bring me my pint.

[routemistress]

I wouldn't string 'im up, I'd need a block and tackle. I'd just shoot 'im. Except then I'd 'ave to find someone else to do the cooking.

[Straightfaced.]

Mason love, 'as it crossed your mind ever that if you spent even 'alf the time and energy you spend on trying to scam booze and drugs on sorting yourself out, you'd've graduated months back?

[maced_eggs]

S'not true.

Look, I'm jus' happy to do my thing, all right? I don't want interference in it.

[routemistress]

Doing your thing got you dead before you were thirty, you muppet. Can you blame us for wanting you to do a bit better next time?

[maced_eggs]

What next time? I don't get a next time, Iris. I'm stuck where I am. S'just the way it is.

[routemistress]

No, Mason, it's not. 'Ave you not noticed what it is we do 'ere, at all? You're living in a bloody Next Time factory 'ere, you plonker.

[maced_eggs]

I'm being serious, Iris. There's nothing I've got going back to. If I go back before I died, I'm going back in time forty bloody years. I won't fit in.

An' what's the other option, being a reaper? Which wasn't so bad, except I was bad at it.

I've been trying to tell people this, an' your only answer is to give me all these options I don't want and don't fit into.

Don't fuckin' well understand a man's being out of time.

[routemistress]

I'm a flipping time traveller, Mason, you prize melon, where'd you get the idea I don't understand that shite?

Ever seen the thirtieth century? Ever seen any planet but Earth? You're looking at two options out of literally infinity and 'cause you don't like either of them you try and tell me the entire thing's pointless? 'Ow do you not drown yourself in the bullshite coming out of your gob, Mason?

'Sides that's not your real problem and you and me and our Gwen all know it.

[maced_eggs]

...well, I'd miss people from my time. People I might not get to see ever again.



What's my real problem then? I've fuckin' told you my real problem already.

[routemistress]

Your real problem's you've convinced yourself you'll fail as an 'andy excuse for never trying.

[maced_eggs]

I don't know if it's escaped your notice, but my one defining an' consistent feature is that I fuck up things, Iris. I fuck them up well and good and if I can't make things right I'd rather just get drunk and call it a day.

[routemistress]

It's been 'ard not to notice, Mason. Derek and me were the first ones Joker murdered after you brought 'im on board, remember?

But I understand. Much too much like 'ard work to learn not to fuck things up, eh?

[maced_eggs]

[Cowed by this, Mason shrinks down, looking embarrassed]

I put in hard work an' I fuck up anyway. It's not 'won't', it's 'can't'. I've not ever been good at anything and there's nothing out there for me.

Admiral ought to have jus' let me...I dunno, I can't die again, an' they wouldn't let me keep on being a reaper apparently. Is there a hell? Am I going to hell if I don't graduate?

Spam;

[anewlanguage]

[He does, but not until after Iris has had her say and Mason has had a chance to get his.

He stands out of the way, two pints, one in each hand.]

I was too drunk to remember specific words now, but I'm pretty sure she dressed me down like that back when I was an inmate.

Spam;

[maced_eggs]

[Mason gives a bit of a grin from his inner tube, hugging his rabbit carefully on his chest]

You coming in for a dip, Cain?

Spam;

[anewlanguage]

Of course!

[He'd planned on jumping in, in fact, but the rabbit makes him climb in without making more than a ripple]

Never seen a rabbit hanging out at the pool before.

Spam;

[maced_eggs]

Johnny likes the water. 'Sides, this way I keep an eye on him so he doesn't get hurt.

He's a bit slow, Johnny. Likes to wander into harm's way.

[He pets his rabbit with a grin]

How's the water treating you?

Re: Spam;

[anewlanguage]

[There's an unfortunate number of things around here that could hurt a rabbit, and he's not sure the Admiral (or Barge or whatever) would revive a mere pet. So he smiles, and opts to be careful not to, say, accidentally startle or drowned it.]

Y'know I've never swam here before? Pretty nice though. Especially on all my bad joints. Watch yourself while you're young, you sure as hell don't want to end up like me.

Spam;

[maced_eggs]

[He gives his rabbit a small peck on the nose, before glancing back up at Cain, grinning]

You do know I've been dead for forty fuckin' years, yes? I'll be forever twenty-seven. None of that shit to worry about.

Spam;

[anewlanguage]

[He laughs]

Oh hell, if there's ever a body switch mishap courtesy of the Admiral, you'd damn well better swap with me!

Spam;

[maced_eggs]

Ffffuck off, you're not taking me body.

Re: Spam;

[anewlanguage]

It's for your own good! You can't live a real life without feeling arthritis, without finding a grey hair!

Spam;

[maced_eggs]

Bloody hell, Cain, really? I'm not growing old, I've told you. Fuckin' stay the fuck away from me body.

Re: Spam;

[anewlanguage]

On one condition!