whitetwoguns

text; poor, poor attempt at a private to Mr. Eames

HeEy Eemes I---
end; yeah...that's it

video!

[There's a relatively noisy bar, but it is easily chalked up to the fact that the network device is in someone's hand as he walks from the can. Charlie Feathers grade rock and roll is blasting. There are a few sets of feet on a dance floor. Oops. Almost drops the gadget. Phew. Good save. Now it will be held up higher to prevent that from happening again. The effect is less gut wrenching.]

Mr. Eames. You're a pile of horse shit. Lookit what you're missing.

[It's not the Blue Light, it's another rather less kept establishment. Swaying steps end at the bar.]

Here! Here's our buddy. [Audible pause. He almost says something he shouldn't.] It's [hyuk] Mr.-Mr. Orange. [The man is clearly inebriated too. He waves at the camera which is very much in his face to show freckles on his nose.] What the fuck is wrong with you, why would you wanna miss out? [Teeth! Mr. Orange's teeth. Okay zooming out.]

And over here--[there's a shot glass pyramid in the words that the network device sees for a second] here is Mr. Pink. [Bug eyed and mustachoed Mr. Pink is not so drunk. How nice to not have such a close frame, even when he is speaking:] This is the best fucking use of my time in the past year I've lived in this shithole.

[Whoever is filming, it isn't hard to guess at this point with the usual suspects, laughs. Okay, okay. He shows himself. It's Mr. White! Not surprising. And he is three sheets to the wind.]

Night two, [he holds up two thick fingers like a peace sign grinning like a fool] and you-you're fucking losing out!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Do you make a habit of broadcasting your nights out?

Also, let Mr. Orange know I have no idea what "Poppins" is, or why I should know who or what that refers to.

It ain't a what it's a who.

[But obviously still an it.]

That doesn't do a whole lot to clear up the mystery here. Or why you thought I ought to know about it.

Man I barely know you. What'd I do?

The text message. The one you sent to my phone.

Did you already forget?

Oh man, that was you? Hey sorry about that.

You seen him anyway?

I still have no idea who "Poppins" is supposed to be, so no, I don't know.

Mister Fuckin' Eames? Paisley?

Doesn't ring a bell. [At least as far as names are concerned.]

video;

orangetoughguy - 2011-11-29 07:37 (UTC) - Expand

saidrepent - 2011-11-29 07:42 (UTC) - Expand

Naw. Naw.

[One of mitts wave at the guy.]

Just this time. A guy's gotta be called out on his bullshit. Leaving a guy hanging is bad, man. Except I guess there were some kinda outside circumstances. I dunno.

[Shrug.]

Right. [He sounds not a little dubious on that.]

It's common for people to turn up missing here?

[He's really not that big of a boozehound. First impressions though. Oops.]

Depends. I mean, people pop pretty quick. Sometimes shit goes down and they gotta lay low.

[More beer drinking.]

[That sounds familiar.] What kind of shit, usually?

[What's that say about you, mister?]

Fuck if I know. It was an idea. He seemed in a good place.

[For a guy with an apartment that combusted.]

The gal with the baby face, she told me he's not around too.

[Probably more than it should.] Right...

Does miss baby face have a name?

[WELL. Even if there were troubles, Mr. White isn't gonna sing like a canary. He's not the type.]

Everybody does. I just dunno what it is.

[How unhelpful of him.]

Right. Thanks anyway.

The book? Like Mary?

Don't know it.

You never read Mary Poppins? Watched the movie? Dick Van Dyke and his fucking terrible Cockney accent?

No, I haven't. [That's at least a good couple centuries or so before his time.]

That's truly sad.

What's so sad about it?

That movie isn't just a classic. It's like a fucking icon of cinematic history. Julie Andrews at her best before she got dowdy and without all that wholesome nun crap.

I don't really have the time to watch movies.

pinkeffinprofessional - 2011-11-30 04:42 (UTC) - Expand

saidrepent - 2011-11-30 04:54 (UTC) - Expand