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Post by Padre Romero on Apr 1, 2007 17:25:20 GMT -5
Terence appears oddly intrigued by this proposition...
"Very well..." he says wearily, as if conducting a very delecate negotiation...'Finest Kikiws...from the llands north of Nod"...
he reaches deep into his jacket and pulls out about 10.
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Post by Lachryma on Apr 1, 2007 18:44:43 GMT -5
Lachryma leans forward.
"Yes, is lovely. Here, enjoy magazine."
She holds out 'Seventeen' with one hand and reaches for the kiwis with the other.
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Post by Melody Arachne on Apr 1, 2007 19:28:39 GMT -5
"Someone get that goddamned deader out of my bedroom! Hell's bells, you go out for five minutes..."
Melody arches a brow at Lachryma, shaking her head. "You do know what happens if you eat too many kiwis, don't you? Where do you think the little fuzzy birds come from?" She nods solemnly, as if imparting the wisdom of the ages.
Moving behind the bar, she stops and stares at the barely-standing barricades.
"What the hell...?"
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Post by Lachryma on Apr 1, 2007 20:34:36 GMT -5
Lachryma glares at Mel for a split second, then starts laughing.
"Yes, all in moderation. Even kiwi fruits. Is lovely."
She goes to look at the barricades.
"So, we should have 'cading party, no? Will be fun...."
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Post by Specialist290 on Apr 1, 2007 21:29:48 GMT -5
"I call dibs on moving the grand piano," Specialist interjects.
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Post by Padre Romero on Apr 2, 2007 0:34:44 GMT -5
"Welll, you follks have a good time..."
Terence says, as he stands up...he must have been slouching beforehand, either that, or he somehow grew a foot or so...after one glass of milk, he TOWERS!
"Try to keep allive...there's follks on the outside pulllin for ya. Oh, and if you see Padre, give him this...and a punch in the mouth".
Terence snaps his fingers, and produces a small gold coin, it's inscribed with Arabic lettering on the front.
"Tell him I win..."
Terence walks out into the street, and begins humming "Te Deum" as he strolls into the night...after a few blocks, he's gone.
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Post by Vito The Don on Apr 2, 2007 5:34:06 GMT -5
Vito looks over to the new guy. "So whats your story, and how did you end up here?" He looks over to those in the kill records. "I Got at least 23,000 and 25 murderers. Like I always say, the best way to kill them is with automatics. 'Cause you can get a hell of a lot more that way.
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Post by Melody Arachne on Apr 2, 2007 5:53:15 GMT -5
"I don't know why I bother with 'cading this door anyway ... cripes ... I should weld it shut. Sorry about your equipment, DJ ... swear ta God it wasn't me." She rummages beneath the bar for a length of chain. "No reason to use that door anyway, with the cellar entry nearly zed-proof ... Vito! You got a blowtorch in that bag of tricks of yours?"
She pours out the glass of scotch on the bar, now filled with splinters and plaster dust, and pours a fresh drink for Specialist.
"I think the lid stayed on the stew pot, I dunno if that's a good thing or a bad one ..."
Melody shakes he head, grabs a rag to begin washing down the bar. "Why did he think a priest would be in a bar anyway? Especially a place this raunchy ... unless he's a raunchy priest ..."
She pauses, gives Lachryma a slow look. "What did you say? Earlier? Sad music and ... what?"
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Post by Lachryma on Apr 2, 2007 9:24:01 GMT -5
Lachryma looks at the ceiling and whistles innocently, like she's seen in movies.
"Oh, I don't know...something about Leon man, perhaps?"
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Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Apr 2, 2007 12:32:49 GMT -5
"Something happy? Hm...let's see what I can do..."
He puts on Gwen Stefani's The Sweet Escape with the beat of Akon's No Matter.
"Happy enough?"
He looks over at Vito.
"I don't remember having the bet with you...just Specialist. Don't you get free drinks here anyway? Whatever...a deal's a deal..."
He then looks over at Mel.
"Hm...Vodka Martini, shaken, not stirred. And to pay for it...here's that $100 I found stuck in the barricades last week. Keep the change. I'm pretty sure it's more then enough..."
Spinbad forks over the $100. He then remembers the hole in the roof that he made when he came in on that red motorcycle, which is now used for the barricades.
"Um...and to pay for that roof...here's a CD with one of my best mixes..."
He forks over a CD with his best mixes, and to top it off, he also forks over some ammo, just in case.
"It's a pity that bike is being used for the cades...it was such a good bike..."
Gwen Stefani's The Sweet Escape ends, but Akon's No Matter quickly plays without missing a beat.
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Post by Vito The Don on Apr 2, 2007 14:16:01 GMT -5
"I have and improv flamethrower."
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Post by Lachryma on Apr 2, 2007 18:07:50 GMT -5
Lachryma listens to the music for a few moments, then shakes her head.
"No, is too sappy. Put on something happy and that people could dance to. Like...'Fergalicious'...or...'Wind It Up'...."
She arcs her eyebrow as she looks at Vito.
"Flamethrower? Flaming zombies bring down building, no?"
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Post by Specialist290 on Apr 2, 2007 20:57:18 GMT -5
Crazy, all of 'em, Specialist thinks to himself as he sips his scotch.
"How 'bout "Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except For Me and My Monkey'? That's a pretty upbeat tune."
He then hands Spinbad a couple of pistol clips he hasn't used. "Here, get yourself something solid to go w/ that drink," he adds.
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Post by Melody Arachne on Apr 2, 2007 22:27:48 GMT -5
"... here? Leon was here?" Melody smiles, a slow, dimpled smile, and begins reloading her shotgun.
"You just let me know a little faster, next time, Zhivago, you hear? I got a score to settle with that nutjob."
"Guys, the soup's still warm, if you want some. Other than that we'll have to wait for ValJohn to fire up the oven. He ain't gonna charge you, much as you've helped out." She laughs, the sound a little brittle. "What's the saying? Your money's no good here?"
"Vito! Please, man, no fire inside, please no fire inside! Fire burn, make things hot! Fire baaaaaad..."
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Post by Lachryma on Apr 2, 2007 22:38:25 GMT -5
Lachryma edges a bit away from Mel.
"I think he...yeah, stay away from dead one in bedroom. Is gross. I tell you if he show up again, though."
She edges toward the soup, moving slowly with the hope that no one will notice her.
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