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Casual Interactions #9: Full Transcription

John: Welcome back to the Casual Interactions podcast. We are still answering your questions.

Frank: Questions #3. This is the third episode of questions?

J: This is the third episode of questions.

Shaun: That's all we're gonna do now.

F: That's a lot, yeah. I think that's good for a while, right? Maybe we'll do every seven episodes, we'll do three episodes of questions. There's a lot of questions though! I'm shocked.

J: Well, you know what? There was about 200 questions, give or take. And I left it open for a week. I told them when there was no more questions, people still sent questions anyway.

F: Aw, late comers.

J: But it's okay because, you know, people like to break rules and I'm not mad at it.

F: Okay.

J: Sam wants to know, from Kansas, if we've ever had any supernatural encounters.

F: Wow, this is the second-

S: Supernatural.

J: People wanna know about ghosts.

F: Alright. I'm curious, man. Do we have a large ghost crowd, huh? Interesting.

S: Lot of ghosts out there, Frank.

F: Very interesting.

S: There's a lot of ghosts in here.

F: What if these questions are being sent...

S: By?

F: Canadians.

S: Oh man.

F: Wait, what was the question?

J: Have we ever had any supernatural encounters?

F: Oh. Alright, I- yeah. I think I recently talked about this on another podcast. I cheated on you guys with another podcast that was about supernatural Canadian things.

J: You weren't too good at keeping that a secret.

F: I was a venue once that was supposedly haunted and I heard some chatter, sounded like kids running around and laughing.

S: And then they probably weren't real kids.

F: They probably weren't real kids. They were fake kids.

S: Ghost children.

F: Ghost children, yes.

J: There you go.

F: That's possible. Or could have been actual kids, I don't know.

S: I would agree with Frank on that.

F: What, that they could have been- you agree that they could've been kids?

S: Yes.

F: Easily explained. Maybe they were kids.

J: I agree.

F: Hm, not so super. Have you ever had a supernatural experience, Shaun.

S: No.

F: Do you want one?

S: I think having one through you might be enough for me.

F: Really? Alright. That's all you can handle.

J: Listen. You're supernatural experience was more than enough for me. The closest thing I've had recently was one of my goddaughter's toys that lights up and plays music, I think the battery was dying and it just kinda went off on its own. And it scared the fucking shit out of me. It scared me so bad!

S: There was a story and it was my wife's grandmother, someone had died, and she was sleeping on the couch. And then she started hearing this person talking to her.

F: Your wife's sleeping-

S: No, my wife's grandmother.

F: Your wife's grandmother is sleeping.

S: Yeah. And someone had recently died and then she started hearing this person talking to her, like calling her- saying her name and stuff like that, and maybe asking if she was there. And it kept happening over and over again. She started to get freaked out. So what it ended up being was the fucking cat kept hitting the answering machine and it was a message from this person that kept playing over and over!

F: No way!

J: Holy shit!

F: But wait! But what if the cat was possessed by that spirit to hit the button?

S: Oh!

F: That's what you're missing.

J: That's a vindictive spirit, man.

F: That's the thing, yeah.

S: I mean, probably not, but.

F: I like how they still didn't listen to the message though. "No seriously, the message is very important."

J: From my grandmother, my family, I've been told, is psychically attuned.

F: Oh, to what?

J: To everything. It's a lot. So, my mom years ago gave me this jade Buddha with this little red fringe is hanging off it. It's actually hanging off my front door right now. She's like, "This will keep your house safe." And so, it's like a ward of protection I keep on my front door. Now, my mom's paranoia and anxiety has, you know, since rubbed off on me. And then plus my OCD, it's just, every night before I go to bed, I'm like, you know, touching the burners to make sure they're off, I'm rubbing the jade Buddha, making sure the door is locked like three times before I get into bed. Then I get into bed, and I go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and I come out of the bathroom and I'm like, "Fuck, hold on," so I take the flashlight out on my phone and I shine it on the other side of the bed, make sure there's no one on the other side of my bed on the floor waiting to murder me. So that's kinda where I live now.

F: First off, here- wait. What have you done in your life that there's someone that's looking to murder you?

J: I don't know.

F: And that secretly.

J: Nothing! But that's the kind of, what's going on up top sometimes, you know?

F: But here's the thing. If they were to break in that door, you can't- there's no escaping. I've seen your apartment.

J: There's a window in there.

F: You're gonna get out that window?

J: I'm not that fat, Frank.

F: No, I'm just saying!

J: It's a small window.

F: That's what you would do? If you heard a break in, you would go out the window?

J: I'd have to try, I don't know. I don't know what I would do.

S: You should have a plan for that.

J: I do, I have like, several plans for it actually.

F: You don't have a weapon hidden?

J: I have a knife in the drawer.

F: What kind of knife?

J: Oh no, I took that out, it's in the car now. Shit!

F: Now what are you gonna do?

J: Now what am I gonna do?

F: You would have to jump out the window, go to the car, come back in-

J: I'm gonna hope I've got a good shot.

S: Then stab them.

J: I'm gonna start hurdling the remote control to my TV, the PlayStation controller.

S: You should keep coconuts by your bed.

J: Shaun, you're a genius!

S: There you go.

F: Shitballs. So you check the side of the bed.

J: Yes.

F: Because-

J: Because I have this crazy mania in my brain that thinks that someone's gonna try to murder me in my sleep.

S: I feel like, if anybody, you'd be the last person someone would want to murder.

F: I would think so too.

J: I would hope- thank you! I would hope so, but no, my little crazy brain is like, sometimes it works a little overtime.

F: Why do you think that they would break in and wait for you to go back to sleep to murder you?

J: See, I don't know.

S: So he can go to the bathroom.

J: And that's where we're getting crazy.

S: They'll let him pee first.

F: Well, you'd wanna get that out.

J: I've had many talks with myself, like, getting done taking a piss, getting in my bedroom, knowing rationally as I lock the door to my bedroom, there's double locks.

F: No!

J: Oh yeah. I have to. I have to lock the door to my room. Every place I've ever lived, the door gets locked.

F: You're kidding me!

J: Oh yeah. And so I'm about to get into bed and I have that moment, that real rational moment where it's just like, "Okay, honestly, no one's broken into your house, no one's coming to try to murder you, no one is that good of a murderer that they would've gotten in to the house through the front door that's locked, slipped past the bathroom as you're taking a piss."

F: Stealthy.

J: "Because you're not pissing that loudly, and made it into your room, and didn't bump their knees on the bed that's at the very edge of the door, and then not bumped themselves into-" because it's pitch black in there.

F: Pitch black, and then they have to lie in wait again.

J: And then they have to lie in wait again, and hold their breath until I get done, because maybe it's a poo, like I don't know. I've been out of the room for a while. So there's no way that it all would've been able to go down, but yet, I'm just like, "But if I don't check, then I'm gonna get into bed and I'm gonna- my brain's gonna run and be like, 'Well maybe you should've checked,' and I'm not gonna be able to go to sleep. So then I just check and then it's the path of least resistance.

F: They're sitting there going like, "Please go to sleep."

J: It's the path of least resistance for me.

F: "So I can murder you."

J: Yeah.

F: "I've been waiting here for 20 minutes, you didn't check, and you're still not sleeping. I can hear you're not sleeping. I've been waiting here to murder you."

J: Now, oddly enough, when I'm dating somebody and they're sleeping in the bed-

F: Do you lock the door?

J: I lock the door.

F: No!

J: I do! I lock the door, but I don't check because I feel like I would've heard them getting murdered. If that happened, then I'm cool! Like, I just lock the door.

F: It's like having a canary in the mine!

J: Exactly!

F: Holy shit! So wait, what does the person do? Like, this, you know, say it's the first night that they've slept over. This nice young lady, ample bosom, I'm sure.

J: God willing.

F: Gothy, probably has some things that she sells on Etsy.

J: Jesus Christ! You hang out with George Bungalow one time, Frank! You've already got jokes. Well no, I just sit there-

F: They wake up and the door has been locked!

J: I get it out up front and I just say, "Listen, you know, if you need to turn the light on-"

F: You should say, just once for me, just say, "Now you can't leave."

J: No! No, I would never say that to somebody! I tell them the name of the room to say to Alexa, turn the light on. And I say, "Hey, I lock the door because I have OCD about a lot of things, but you're good. Just let yourself out."

F: Oh wow!

J: Yeah.

F: I didn't know that about you.

J: You're learning new things everyday.

F: Holy shit.

J: Yeah. Apparently that was-

F: I can't wait to break in and hide behind the side of your bed later!

J: That was a really great question.

F: Holy shit.

J: Yeah. So uh, there we are. Sam from Kansas, great question. Jan wants to know, do we have a favorite meme of ourselves?

F: Yes! I found-

J: Did you really?

F: Someone sent one to me the other day.

J: Maybe it was Jan.

F: It might've been Jan.

J: That's a long way to set this one up, Jan.

S: What is it?

F: Holy shit, long con. It's fucking fantastic. I don't know who made this, or why. I don't know if it's referencing a private joke that they might have about me, but just know that it was sent to me, maybe by the person that made it, maybe not. But the private joke is so funny that it made me laugh out loud for about 20 minutes, and then I sent it to everyone I know.

S: We didn't see it.

F: Really?

J: No, you didn't send it to us.

F: That's crazy. Okay, well I saved it, and I just gotta find it.

S: You sent us the chicken nugget fucking maker.

F: What? The chicken nugget maker?

S: Yeah, isn't that what it was?

J: That's how the nuggets get made, yeah. That's what that was. That wasn't ice cream. That was terrible.

F: Oh right. Oh man. Okay. So no, this is- it's close. Where is it? Goddamnit. I wanna show it to you before I mention it, because I think it's funnier if you see it yourself. Aw man. How do you find something like that? Um...

J: Google.

S: If you sent it to someone, wouldn't it be-

F: Oh that's right, yeah. But this is like, you know-

J: Yeah but if you're on your phone, click the little i.

S: Yeah.

F: Oh yeah! Oh that's right, I could probably do that, huh? Okay, so wait, let me see. Ah, here it is. Just pass that around. It's fucking genius! I don't know why it was ever made. I know, it's so good. I mean, I do see a lot of weird things that are made with my fucking weird mug on them. This one caught me so off guard and made me laugh so hard. This is a picture of me from fucking 2001 or something, looking scraggly as fuck, in what I imagine is a supermarket or CVS feminine hygiene aisle, and the caption or the text says, "Aight babe, I'm in the pad aisle, what pussy size do you wear?"

J: Wow!

S: That's such a strange thing.

F: It's so weird!

J: It's so weird and jarring, but it's just funny.

F: It caught me really off guard.

J: So how long did it take for you to realize it was you in the picture?

F: Oh no, it was sent to me on Twitter.

S: But it's the way it's framed.

J: Someone sent it to you on Twitter?

F: It was sent to me on Twitter!

J: From a rando?

F: Yeah! Yeah. I mean, I don't know if I was like, tagged in a conversation between two other people or something like that, but I saw this fucking thing with my face on it, and I was like, "Oh jeez, what's this?" Sometimes I'll click on the @s, you know? Like, @ me, and then I'll just kinda fucking swipe it and let it just- almost like Price is Right wheel.

S: And see what it lands on.

F: And then stop it and like, look at one.

J: So I mean, you're always so great about taking pictures with fans and stuff, but maybe you don't wanna take it in the feminine hygiene aisle, so if you catch him, maybe move over to, I don't know, the school supplies or something like that.

F: I just wanna ask somebody now, "What size-," never mind, I'm never gonna say that.

S: The way that was framed was fucking hilarious.

J: My lord. Oh god, uh, Damia- I'm just reading it as as it's written, wants to know if there are any jealousy or bad vibes between any of our friends when a member left or moved?

F: Of like a band or something?

J: Yeah, means like got fired or something.

F: Oh man. You're human so sometimes that happens and it's hard to see down the line, that ultimately it's not gonna be that big a deal, but when you're in a band and you're in your teenage years or your early 20s, something like that, and you dedicate your life to something, and someone kinda like, just says, "I'm out," that's fucking earth shattering, you know? When you put all your eggs in that basket. So, sometimes you'll have some hard feelings about it but I think eventually, it dissipates.

J: Yeah, I mean, you get older, you don't care about so much stuff that felt as earth shattering in the moment.

F: Oh yeah.

J: It was just kinda like, "Why were we even mad about that?"

F: Right.

J: So, Rain from Michigan asked four questions.

F: Oh Jesus.

J: We're going to answer one.

F: Okay.

J: And the question that I'm gonna ask of Rain's four questions is, and thank god it was an easy name to pronounce this time for me, um, "If you guys could change-"

F: Is it Reign?

J: No no, it's Rain. "If you guys could change your names, what would you change them to?"

F: Oh, easy. Steve.

J: Steve. What about you, Shaun?

S: Really?! Why Steve?

F: I don't know. That's my go to alias. If I order food or if I go to a coffee shop and they ask me my name, I say Steve all the time.

J: There you go. How about you, Shaun?

S: Charles Easter.

F: I like it.

J: That's great. Dracula.

S: Dracula?

J: I just think it would be great just to go into Starbucks and they have to call me Dracula. They would wonder for days if I was fucking with them or not.

F: Do you do it?

J: No I don't do it.

F: Why not? What's holding you back?

J: I don't know. I thought about it. It works. I think I could pull off Dracula.

F: Dr. Acula.

J: Dr. Acula. Yeah.

F: Is that a band?

J: Yeah it's good. Maybe. We might be changing our name to Dracula.

F: I think you should, man. Your mom would be pissed.

J: Oh, my mom would be so mad.

F: But you would have to make her call you that too. I make my kids call me Doctor Father. Yeah, I've been trying it.

J: Which one did that land with? Who does it?

F: None of them believe that they have to call me that.

J: Really?

F: I'll say, "You should start calling me with my full actual, like you know, title." And they are like, "What?" And I'm like, "Doctor Father." They get like, "Really?" Like, I don't know if they've figured out that I'm fucking with them totally yet, or if they're like, "I think you're fucking with me, but... really?"

J: What about Miles? Has Miles gone for it?

F: He will sometimes. If I tickle him enough, he'll call me it.

J: That's his safe word, Doctor Father.

F: "Doctor Father!"

J: Jade from Texas wants to know how we deal with our daily struggles with anxiety and depression.

F: Oh god.

J: It's a heavy question, it's a good one.

S: Shake those dice, Frank.

J: You know what, it could go either way because we are recording in my apartment today, so there are mason jars filled with dice, or they could be anti-anxiety medication. Who could tell?

F: Why are there so many dice?

J: I play a lot of Dungeons and Dragons.

S: Do you need-

F: I know but at the same time?

J: So for those listening at home, I have four mason jars filled with polyhedral dice for Dungeons and Dragons and other role playing games.

F: Right.

J: Why I have so many. Well, I do collect dice. I have some really sweet dice. I have the dice made of a 10,000 year old tusk of a woolly mammoth, I have a dice made of titanium, a dice made of jet.

F: When you went into the purchase of the woolly mammoth bones-

J: Oh, I was very single. I was very single and had a lot of disposable income. It was like 250 bucks.

F: How did you know that they weren't just selling you like, I don't know, gravel?

J: Oh, I got a certificate of authenticity.

S: And shouldn't a woolly mammoth bone be in a fucking museum and not made into a-

F: Yeah! Who has access to all these bones that they're making dice out of them?

J: Well, it was a company called Artisan Dice from Texas and they make a lot of specialty dice made of a lot of weird and cool material. After the fact, after I'd spent the money and I'd ordered the dice, it's a really sweet dice, but I was like, "Yeah man, maybe this tusk should've been in a museum." But hey, too late now, I already own it. So yeah, I have some cool dice that I use regularly. My mom loves to get me Christmas presents. She does love getting me Christmas presents, and for a while, I was like, "I don't know what the hell I'd have my mom get. I don't need anything." So every year, I'd make her buy me like a pound of dice and then I would just give them away to people.

S: A pound? You can get them in pounds?

J: You can get it by the pound, yeah. Chessex makes this great pound of dice and, in the middle, they give you one complete set. Otherwise, it's all random mixed up dice. And so I kind of just- my mom had all these mason jars. Also, I dated a lot of crafty women, so there was plenty of mason jars lying around. And so I just filled them up, and it's a nice decoration.

F: "So I can keep my own urine."

J: Yeah, keeping my own piss in a jar. That's what the other mason jars are for.

F: That's awesome though. Do you know how many you have?

J: No, I have no idea because I give them away to people. Like if someone forgets some dice, here's some dice. I run a monthly Dungeons and Dragons night at this bar called Pet Shop in Jersey City.

F: I love that bar.

J: Yeah, it's awesome. Great vegetarian food. I highly recommend you try the buffalo cauliflower.

F: Fucking amazing.

J: Amazing.

F: You wanna fart all night.

J: All night, forget it, yeah. It's not date food, for sure. So yeah, I put packs of dice together and I just give them away to players, people come up trying DnD for the first time, I just give them a set of dice.

F: That's so cool. How many dice do you need to run one game?

J: So, playing 5th edition of Dungeons and Dragons rules, you wanna have two 20 sided dice, because you could either roll with advantage or disadvantage. And then you essentially just need one full set of dice, which is seven dice, plus an extra 20 sided die, and you're good to go. And you don't even need that extra 20 sided die, it's just more fun to roll multiple dice at the same time. It's easy and, you know, for people who-

F: So you need seven?

J: Seven dice. Most dice sets that you get come with seven dice. You get a 20 sided die, you get an 8 sided die, a 10 sided die, another 10 sided die that acts as a percentile so combined with the 10 sided die, it creates of a D100. You get a 6 sided die and you get a 12 sided die and a 4 sided die.

F: Holy shit.

J: Yeah. And it's cool because you can get a set of dice for like, 5 or 6 bucks depending on where you get it. And then you can get them in all different colors. I'm about to back a Kickstarter of a guy who made ice cream dice. So they're all flavors of ice cream, but they're polyhedral dice, so he's got a Neapolitan, he's got an orange Creamsicle. It's fun stuff. I love dice, I collect a lot of dice, but yeah, I don't need five pounds of them, but you know, mom likes to get me presents and I don't like to say no.

F: Who are you to deny her?

J: Who am I to deny my mother buying me wonderful presents with love from her heart?

F: Made from dead woolly mammoths.

J: No, that cost me about 250 bucks, and yeah. You know, sometimes I roll it and I go, "Should've been in a museum."

F: "I shouldn't roll this."

J: I roll it anyway.

F: Where is it? Do you have it here? Is it in a special safe?

J: No, it's actually under the Yoda puppet. There is a box by a company called Wormwood.

F: I see it!

J: And in that box there is my totally sweet dice.

F: I love that Yoda has real hair.

J: That's an actual vintage puppet from the Empire Strikes Back. Not used in the movie, of course. Yeah, watch out, it's magnetic.

F: Oh Jesus.

S: Wait, it's this one?

J: Yeah, the white one. That's actually made from the tusk of a woolly mammoth.

S: This is a bone?

J: That's a bone.

S: I think they fucked you, man. That feels like plastic to me.

J: Tusks are hollow, man. It's not, it's actual. Smell it.

F: Wait, is it really? Taste it.

S: Lick it, Frank.

J: Smell it.

F: Wait, is it cracked?

J: No, that's just the grain of it.

F: Oh, it smells like mammoth to me.

S: Can you Jurassic Park that thing and make a real one?

J: Ooh, maybe.

F: You might be, I don't know.

J: Yeah.

F: It's an actual woolly mammoth bone? Genuine?

J: The tusk of a 10,000 year old woolly mammoth, yeah.

F: If you found out it was only a thousand year old woolly mammoth, would you be upset?

J: I still would've paid for it, yeah.

S: Is this one a rock? What is this one?

J: That is made from the bone of a velociraptor.

F: What?! Jesus Christ, dude!

S: Get the fuck out, really?!

J: Yeah man.

S: What are you doing? You're going to have fucking-

F: I love that! I don't have any dice, but this is the one I would have though.

S: How are you getting fucking-

F: This is small!

J: Yeah well, I mean it's-

F: Can you even use this?

J: Yeah, you can but you need to use it under light because you can hardly see the numbers on it.

F: Holy fuck, I'm too old to even read this.

J: Yeah, definitely need to wear my glasses.

F: Oh my god, this is a velociraptor’s what?

J: The bone of a velociraptor. I don't know. It was a very nondescript bone.

S: That's so crazy.

J: That is titanium, the one you're holding in your hand, Shaun.

S: I didn't know that they would sell bones like that for public consumption.

J: Yeah, I'm sure someone had to pay someone off for it.

S: I like- this one's cool. It's got some weight to it.

J: Yeah, it's made of titanium.

S: Yeah.

J: So yeah, to answer your-

S: It's made of adamantium.

J: Oh god, I wish. Forget it. Imagine trying to cut adamantium into a 20 sided die.

F: Do you feel like any of these give you better luck?

J: Oh the one you're holding right now, the titanium one, is my main one. It rolls high always. Because you wanna roll high in DnD, you always wanna put up some numbers, especially you wanna try to shoot for a natural 20. So that one always rolls pretty high. The dinosaur bone one rolls pretty good as well. The jet one, which is the black one that's in there, that rolls pretty well.

F: What's that one made of?

J: Jet.

F: Made of jet? Like, the magazine?

J: Yeah, like the magazine.

F: You ever roll Cee-lo with these?

J: No, I don't think you can roll Cee-lo with a 20 sided die.

F: You could try.

J: You could try, yeah.

S: Oh my god.

F: I got a dollar. What's that green one?

J: The green one is made from the plastic-

S: Jade.

J: -that they make the canopies for jet fighters from.

F: Jesus Christ, man!

S: Wow.

F: That's awesome!

S: What about this one? Is this wood?

J: That's wood.

S: Just plain wood? Nothing cool?

J: Just plain old wood.

S: Oh.

J: Yeah.

S: Alright.

F: Shaun's unimpressed with that one.

J: He saved the worst for last.

S: No, it's cool, man.

J: Uh, to answer your question, Jade from Texas. "Do you suffer from anxiety and depression? How do I deal with it?" I try to eat right, I try to exercise, I prioritize sleep, I talk to my therapist, and I try to make time to spend with my friends and family doing fun things like Dungeons and Dragons.

F: I like that, that's a good plan. Here's the thing. If you're, yeah, if you're doing things that make you happy, it's hard not to feel better about things, but depression's a fucker. So it'll creep in sometimes, even when you're supposed to be happy. And that's when you might need to, you know, seek the help of somebody that knows a little bit better than you do.

J: Yeah.

F: And sometimes, you know, medication is helpful. I've had good reactions and terrible fucking reactions, so you gotta do that shit with the utmost care.

J: Professionals.

F: Seriously.

J: That's why they get paid the big bucks.

F: Hey, so here's a question from Frank in New Jersey. So alright, we've talked about the ghost thing twice, right? Because not everyone gets to be a ghost, right? What necessitates that and could animals be ghosts? Are there caveman ghosts? Are there velociraptor? Like, do you think that maybe you'll be haunted by a 5,000 year old woolly mammoth for his fucking bone die, that you've taken and you have? He doesn't feel complete somewhere.

J: Great question, Frank from New Jersey. So I think that a lot of it has to do with, you need to be a sentient being. You need to have some kind of like... Like, I love animals but I don't know that an animal is going to have that moment where he or she feels like they left something undone in the world. Like, they need to stick around until they find that bone that they buried somewhere. I think that ghosts and the paranormal is really tied into deep emotion, whether it's like a joyful emotion, or an emotion that, like, real trauma. And that's why you have malevolent spirits or you know, just your friendly ghosts that are just kinda doofing around because they just wanna hang out still.

F: Alright. Do you feel like, say like, you know, at what point in evolution did that occur? So like, cavemen? Cro-Magnon?

J: I think once you got past the Cro-Magnon times, I think once people started having motivations for things other than just-

F: Survival.

J: Making fire and survival. Like, when there was things that could be left undone rather than just, "Oh, gotta invent the wheel today." I think that's kinda where we're at.

F: So, when people got selfish and started- Like, when do you think the first, like I guess, murder took place? Because I feel like that, the motivation behind jealousy and things of that, start to kinda tie in with the realization of things other than just survival, or you know, wanting things that you can't have, or wanting other people that you can't have, and things of that nature, like, kind of playing into.

J: So I'm gonna go with, because I think that's great, I'm gonna go with I think when it hits the point where you can be consciously committing any of what we consider the seven deadly sins. If you were just kind of, something just happened, like it is what it is. Like, you know, you're killing someone to survive, but when you're like, "Okay."

F: Animal based.

J: When things go from animal based to premeditated, then I think that's kinda when OG ghosts would happen.

F: Okay. So, what is the oldest ghost ever reported? Do we know?

J: I don't know.

F: Is it probably Victorian, or something like that?

S: Mhm.

F: Mmmhm.

J: I think if you're gonna go Biblical, it would probably be like Cain and Abel.

S: Oh, right.

F: Mhm.

S: Bible ghosts.

F: Bible ghosts! I like that.

J: Yeah. I mean, I think if you're looking at Cain and Abel's premeditated murder, so I would probably say something along those lines. That's as far back as I can think.

F: Alright.

J: For those listening at home, I'm like 14 seasons into Supernatural, so I've got some thoughts.

F: Please report in the oldest known ghost.

J: Yeah, if you're listening to this and you can figure out what would be the original ghost sighting, definitely tweet it out to us, because we are now very curious about this. But we're not gonna actually do any work or research on our own.

F: No, yeah, definitely not doing that.

J: No, we don't like homework. Alright so, we got one more question before we wrap this episode up. And I think- I'm gonna slaughter this name. Citlali.

F: That was good. I think that's how you do it.

J: They actually put it in here phonetically for me, and it said, "Lolly pop, I know it's weird." From Nevada wants to know, "Frank, what is your favorite line from one of your songs?"

F: Oh Jesus. Oh man.

S: I could tell you my favorite part of one of Frank's songs.

J: Do it.

F: Oh please.

S: The end of... Crap, what's the name of that fucking- hold on. I'm not gonna ask you even though you're right here.

F: Okay. I won't tell you either.

S: Oh, the second song, Veins on-

F: Oh!

S: The end of that song where it's just like that driving. I'm always like, "Why isn't there more of that?" You know what I mean?

F: Yeah. Just give a little bit, now you have to play it again.

S: A little more, yeah. No, I think that's one of my favorite parts of one of Frank's songs.

F: Oh, I like that part too. Thank you. That's cool. There are song lines in that that I think are killer. I feel like sometimes you'll write things and you'll be like, "Oh, that shit's snarky." I like that a lot. I like when shit stings a bit, you know?

J: Yeah, I agree.

F: I don't know. There's some too, there's some killer lines from the Pencey record that Hambone wrote that I like a lot. Like, "See you around sometime on the 6th of never." That line always got to me, I like that line a lot. I think the whole thing of 8th Grade.

J: Yeah, because that was emotional for me. That was like-

F: That was a cool song.

J: You know, that was, you know, about being bullied and stuff. I like, so for me, the best lyrics I think I wrote, I wrote when I was doing Brine and Bastards. I mean, I like Prayer For A Homesick Sailor, I like the lyrics I wrote for Last Call, and for Fear and Loathing in New Jersey. It was something I came up with, stuff that I came up with. I think for me the best lyrics that I wrote were the most personal stuff that I wrote, even though I don't know that the time I think I was writing personal stuff. Because I mean, Brine and Bastards are dressed up like pirates. So I was thinking I'm writing about being a pirate, but you know, I'm writing about being a bar fly and my favorite bar's closing. So there was that. Of your songs, Frank, I love She's the Prettiest Girl at the Party With a Mean Right Hook.

F: Oh.

J: I think that's one of the best songs you've ever written.

F: Thanks, man.

J: You know, soup to nuts it's like, perfectly arranged, perfect lyrics, they're great.

F: Thanks, man. That's a fun one because it's like, I like how every chorus you get another line. It's almost like a slow reveal on that song. And that was a song that I thought I hadn't really heard before, of like being in love in a troubled romance. Sometimes people write these love songs about these things that are like, "Oh, everything's perfect, everything's great," because you know, you make each other feel really great and all these things, but sometimes there's troubling things about relationships and the way that sometimes, you're in a relationship with somebody that doesn't always say things that make you feel good, you know what I mean? But that doesn't discount the realness or the gravity of the relationship.

J: Yeah.

F: So I think that was like a song where I was like, "Oh well I've never really heard a song like this about a non-conventional relationship."

J: Yeah, it's awesome and I love it and I look forward to more Frank Iero music.

F: Oh man.

J: Oh, look at that.

F: Dude, 14 songs coming soon.

S: When is that coming out? By the time this episode airs, it should be out, right?

F: I guess so, right? Yeah. End of May.

J: Alright so, by the time this episode drops, Frank's new album Barriers will be in stores, it will be online. Go out and buy this album. It is the best thing he's ever done. And with that said, Frank is also gonna be on tour so if he's coming to your area, definitely go check out Frank Iero and the Future Violents. You are not gonna regret it and you're not gonna wanna miss this show. Now, all that said, this is gonna end up being the season finale of Casual Interactions. Shaun, Frank, and I all have crazy summers ahead of us and it's gonna be very hard for us to get together and record some new episodes, so that's kinda the bad news. The good news is that we're gonna be back in the fall with new episodes, some new segments, and some surprises that you're all gonna love a whole lot. So thank you all so very much for tuning in. We really appreciate all the feedback that we get, we appreciate all the tweets, we appreciated all the questions. And we're gonna leave you with one last question. We saved the best for last. Here we go. So it's a three part question, actually, and I think it's worth it because it starts off. It's Savvy from Tennessee.

F: Savvy.

S: Ooh.

F: I like that.

J: "How many of you have tattoos?" I can answer all of us. "What are your favorite tattoos?" which is something we should answer, then, "Any crazy tattoo stories?"

S: Oh god.

F: Oh man! We talked about this before.

S: Yeah, we just talked about it.

F: Alright, go ahead.

J: Do you have a favorite tattoo, Frank?

F: I mean, I have ones that mean a lot. Like I have portraits of my grandmothers that have passed away, and my grandfather. So those are some of my favorites. I feel like even the ones that maybe I look at and I'm like, "Oof, that's not done really well," still mean a lot and still have, because like, I remember the moment in time when I got it, or where I got it, or who I was with, or who did it. And I feel like, you know like, I don't have many regrets about getting tattooed. I think, I don't know if I have a hierarchy of which ones I like the best or anything like that. I think if I could go back in time, I would maybe worry about placement more.

J: Right.

F: Just because I'm slowly but surely running out of space.

J: You are almost out of space.

S: Yeah.

F: Yeah, I'm running out of convenient space. Nothing feels good anymore.

J: No.

F: So, um, yeah. That's a rough thing, but there's definitely artists out there that I really would love to get tattooed by. I feel like now, it's gotten to this point where it's like a collection of different art and artists out there, different tattoo artists that I really love.

J: How about you, Shaun? You have a favorite tattoo?

S: I think mine is probably the big fucking buffalo head.

F: I like that a lot. That's Shawn Dillon, right?

S: His name is Esteban.

F: Oh, very nice.

J: So you name the buffalo but not the coconut.

S: I named the coconut.

F: Yeah, Shitball.

S: I name everything.

F: Where were you?

J: I was laughing too hard. Yeah, the buffalo looks great. My favorite tattoo is a Shawn Dillon tattoo he did on my forearm. It is based off an old Bastille Halloween decoration. The decoration was two skeletons playing instruments. This one is just a skeleton playing a bass guitar with some bats and a very orange moon, which I love.

F: You held that color really well.

J: I don't go out in the sun very much. That's my secret. Don't go in the sun.

F: Get the sun tattooed but don't go in it.

J: Don't go in it, yeah. So my crazy tattoo story is that when I was 22, 23?

F: No, really?

J: Yeah, I was probably 22 or 23. We were still doing Pencey so I was probably 22, 23. I was a dinner with a guy I knew and the girl he was dating, and her friend was there, and she was a tattoo artist. And we started joking around about getting tattoos and he was like, "You know what you should do, Hambone?" Because Jenna Jameson was big at the time, she was an adult film actress from many many moons ago. He was like, "You should get the same tattoo she has on her ass that says Heartbreaker with two broken hearts." And we were fully in the bag at this point. Don't make decisions like this when you're drunk, folks.

F: Oh no, definitely do.

J: Don't do it. And I'm like, "Yeah of course I'll do it, I'll do it." So the one girl I was at the table with was like, "I'm a tattoo artist, I'm an apprentice, sometimes I get the shop to myself. If you come down, I'll just do it for you for free." And I was like, "Yeah sure, I'll do anything... once, whatever."

S: "I'll do anything."

J: Is it free? Fuck it, let's do it. So, months go by and I get a phone call from this gal and she's like, "Oh hey, the tattoo shop, I have it to myself. You wanna come down and get the Heartbreaker on your ass?" And I was just like, "Alright, it's too funny not to." So I call Frank and Shaun, and I'm like, "Hey guys," told them the story, "do you guys wanna come?"

F: "Definitely."

J: "This could be funny." So we get down there and this gal has got the whole tattoo shop to herself and we go into the back room. And the way the tattoo shop is set up, the front of the shop has the cases with all the piercing jewelry and whatever, and some flash, and the back is where all the tattoos happen. And there was like this little Western door.

F: Saloon door.

J: Saloon doors that go from the front to the back. So we go through the saloon door, you hear the familiar click clack click clack click clack of the saloon doors. Similar to the kind of saloon doors that they would have in West Coast Video in the porno section so they'd always know if someone went back there and was looking at the porno.

F: Oh, is that what they're there for?

J: I kinda figured that's what it was. I sussed it out later. I'm like, "Of all the doors you could've put, why would you do that?"

F: You could have beads.

J: They could've have beads. But beads don't make that sound that just inspires shame.

F: I feel like if you got beads, you're ashamed. You should be ashamed if you've got beads.

J: So we go in the back and she gets all set up, and Frank and Shaun are there, and I'm there. We're all just trying to control our laughter because I'm about to get Heartbreaker tattooed on my right ass cheek. And either Frank or Shaun, I can't remember which one.

F: I can't remember either.

S: I don't know.

J: But someone was like, "No, you need to get Hambreaker because your nickname is Hambone. It'll be funnier." So of course I went with it.

F: It's definitely funnier.

J: It still holds up. It still holds up because you know, I have to get face down on the tattoo table, we take my pants down, and she's like shaking it. She has to shave the area so she's gotta shave my ass, and she's like, "I don't know about this."

F: I feel like you don't have a hairy ass, really.

J: I didn't, but you still have to shave the area anyway.

F: Oh yes, yes you do.

J: So Shaun steps up and takes the razor. Shaun shaved my right ass cheek.

S: I don't remember that.

J: That's what friends are for.

F: I don't remember that either.

J: And so she puts the stencil down and she starts tattooing, and as she starts tattooing, she starts giggling a little bit. I'm like, "What?" And she's like, "I've never done letters before!" And here she is tattooing letters on my ass, and I'm like, "Oh my god. What did I get myself into?" And as she's going, I'm like, "Oh, you have the place to yourself," and she's like, "Yeah yeah. My boss lets me give tattoos because I'm an apprentice. He trusts me to do it." And all the sudden he comes walking through the door, and he is this gigantic, burly biker dude. He's wearing leather chaps and he's got a cowboy hat on and a leather vest and a polo tie. And I mean, I know it specifically because I looked up and it's first thing I saw. Him come walking in, I hear the click clack click clack click clack of-

F: Maybe that's why there's saloon doors.

J: The saloon doors. No, but they were there, and he comes walking through and he goes, "Ugh, I've seen this before." And he turns around and he walks away, and I'm like, "What does he mean?" She's like, "Oh, he's been to prison," I'm like, "Oh my god." Then she's giggling again and I'm like, "What is it?" She's like, "I'm doing color for the first time!" And I'm like, "Oh my god." I mean, this is almost 20 years ago. This gal has turned into a world class tattoo artist, so you never know who's tattooing you, who they're gonna turn into one day. At that point, it was the first time she had done letters and had done color, and to the day, I still have the word Hambreaker with two broken hearts tattooed on my right ass cheek.

F: Did it hold up though?

J: It's faded a little bit. I might go back and have her touch it up for my 40th birthday, and also get your name put on the other cheek.

S: And that's where we end it.

J: Yeah, I think that's a good point to go home. So yeah.

F: That is a good one.

J: That's my crazy tattoo story. Make sure you're smart before you get tattoos and you find the right artist, and also think about it, because it's gonna be on your ass or you arm for a very long time. So for Frank and Shaun, I'm John "Hambone" McGuire.-

F: You're gonna have that ass forever.

J: Until we meet again, hold on to your friends.

#frank iero #shaun simon #hambone #casual interactions #9 #casual interactions 9 #full transcription

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chez-pezeater · 5 years

Text

TCR Birthday Bash 2019: Day 7- Game Night

So this is probably going to get me either a lot of hate, thrown out of the fandom, or (best case scenario) requests for more. I’m honestly not sure which is worse (worst?) at this point. Either way please enjoy Cards Against Humanity: The Cat Returns Addition. Persephone is a TCR OC that belongs to @tcrmommabear & @sindysugar being used with their permissions.

At this point Hiromi has long since become a frequent visitor to the Bureau after following Haru one day. Meaning Hiromi while not quite as close to the others as Haru is, is still considered a friend. Also the humans are in their early 20s and knowing my friends and I when we get into the game, potty language. Which really should just be a warning for CAH in general.

Cards Against Humanity (for those that don’t know) is played with two types of cards: Black prompt cards and White (I call them) Reaction cards. A person draws a prompt card and the other players put down their reaction card(s) face down and then replace the number of cards they used. Prompt drawing player flips them over and selects the best reaction card of the round. Best reaction card(s) win the prompt card. Prompt cards use between 1-3 reaction cards.

- - - - - - - - - - -

To be fair, the entire thing was ENTIRELY Hiromi’s fault. Now that’s not to say that Haru didn’t love her best friend, because she did. She also knew EXACTLY what kind of humor Hiromi had. Mix that with a card game who’s box quite literally proclaims it to be “A horrible game for horrible people”. Yeah… It’s all Hiromi’s fault.

Hiromi drew a black prompt card. “’What’s making things awkward in the sauna?’ Ok folks hit me with your best shots.”

Louise puts down a card reading ‘A sales team of clowns and pedophiles.’

Muta chose to use ‘Scrotum tickling.’

Persephone gave it some thought before selecting ‘Cute Boys.’

Baron hesitated before putting down ‘MechaHitler.’

Haru slaps down ‘Full Frontal Nudity.’ with NO HESITATION.

Toto calmly places down ‘Fiery Poops.’

Hiromi reads all the reaction cards before declaring “A sales team of clowns and pedophiles is the winner. Who put that down cuz yeah that would make things awkward?”

Louise raises a hand while smirking. She accepts her prize before drawing a new prompt card, “’Only two things in life are certain: death and (blank).’ Oh my, there are so many ways that could be taken.”

Hiromi slapped down ‘The violation of our most basic human rights.’ as her card.

Muta, thinking of everything that happens regarding any of the groups antics, put down ‘Total fucking chaos.’

Persephone, not having very many good cards, selects ‘The male gaze.’

Baron, knowing how dramatic his sister is, chose ‘Dropping a chandelier on your enemies and riding the rope up.’ (winner)

Haru hemmed and hawed before putting down ‘Kamikaze pilots.’

Toto put down ‘Every ounce of charisma left in Mick Jagger’s tired body.’ hoping to get some laughs.

Louise read the cards out loud, cackling in between them, and said “’Dropping a chandelier on your enemies’ wins. So which one of you called me out like this?”

“I did sister dear, after all between the two of us this is exactly the kind of dramatics you would use.” Snorts echoed around the table, implying that Louise wasn’t the only over-the-top-Gikkingen around.

And so the game continued:

R3) Muta- (prompt) Listen, Gary, I like you. But if you want that corner office, you’re going to have to show me (blank).

Hiromi- Being a busy adult with many important things to do

Louise- Deez nuts

Persephone- Exactly what you’d expect

Baron- A constant need for validation

Haru- My worthless son

Toto- Meaningless sex

“Tough call but with how humans are ‘A constant need for validation.’ wins although ‘Meaningless sex.’ was close.” “Drat,” Toto declared while Baron took another card.

R4)Persephone- (prompt) Dear Sir or Madam, We regret in infom you that the Office of (blank) has denied your request for (blank).

Hiromi- Bill Nye the Science Guy & A gassy antelope

Louise- Republicans & Black People

Muta- Blackula & The shambling corpse of Larry King

Baron- Sean Penn & Tripping balls

Haru- AXE Body Spray & Being fabulous

Toto- Wifely duties & Consensual sex

“Seriously Louise? ‘Wifely duties.’ AND ‘Consensual sex.’ You know that combination wins.” “Sorry Love but that wasn’t mine.” “Nope it was mine.” “Well either way it was well played, well done Toto.”

“Looks like it’s time to pull out the ‘Most Horrible Person of the Night Award’.” “Hiromi, No!” “Hiromi YES!” “Hey! Why does Birdbrain get Doritos?!”

R5) Baron- (prompt) Well if (blank) is a crime, then lock me up!

Hiromi- The boners of the elderly

Louise- Eating together like a god damn family for once

Muta- The harsh light of day

Persephone- The Boy Scouts of America

Haru- Saying “I Love You”

Toto- The light of a billion suns

“I feel like I’m being called out right now. Who played ‘Saying “I Love You.”?” Baron asked with a very unamused look on his face.

“I did,” Haru replied straightfaced.

“You’re never going to let that go are you?”

“What do you think?”

Baron sighed before handing Haru the prompt card. It was better not to argue with her.

R6) Haru- (prompt) When I was tripping on acid, (blank) turned into (blank).

Hiromi- Sudden Poop Explosion Disease & Used panties

Louise- The economy & The sweet song of sword against sword and the braying of mighty war beasts

Muta- Expecting a burp and vomiting on the floor & Turning the rivers red with the blood of infidels (winner)

Persephone- Crazy opium eyes & Treasure beyond your wildest dreams

Baron- Natalie Portman & Angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night

Toto- A Ugandan warlord & Former President George W. Bush

“Really Muta? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: That’s disgusting.” “So are some of these reaction cards.”

R7) Toto- (prompt) Life for American Indians was forever changed when the White Man introduced them to (blank)

Hiromi- All my friends dying (winner)

Louise- Syphilitic insanity

Muta- How awesome it is to be white

Persephone- Indescribable loneliness

Baron- The Pope

Haru- The eighth graders

“Toto pass Hiromi the bag. Hiromi you’re terrible.” Hiromi just giggles naughtily.

R8) Hiromi- (prompt) (Blank): Brought to you by (blank).

Louise- Homeless people & Rich people

Muta- Mouth herpes & Going down on a woman, discovering that her vagina is filled with eyeballs, and being totally into that

Persephone- Santa Claus & Being rich

Baron- Shutting the fuck up & The Rev. Dr. Marin Luther King, Jr.

Haru- Getting caught by the police and going to jail & Going around punching people(winner)

Toto- Running out of semen & A mine having a stroke

“Sound about right.” “Oh and how would you know Turkey Leg? You don’t have any fists!” “Wouldn’t you like to know fatso.”

R9) Louise- (prompt) (Blank). Betcha can’t have just one!

Hiromi- Heartwarming orphans

Muta- Grammar nazis who are also regular Nazis

Persephone- Gwyneth Paltrow’s opinions

Baron- A sad handjob (winner)

Haru- Horrifying laser hair removal accidents

Toto- Emotions

“Is there something you want to confess brother dear?” “Not to you sister dear.”

R10) Muta- (prompt) This is the prime of my life. I’m young, hot, and full of (blank).

Hiromi- My dad’s dumb fucking face

Louise- Cancer

Persephone- Lunchables TM (winner)

Baron- YOU MUST CONSTRUCT ADDITIONAL PYLONS

Haru- The Hamburglar

Toto- Statistically validated stereotypes

“What? I’m hungry!”

R11) Persephone- (prompt) We never did find (blank), but along the way we sure learned a lot about (blank)

Hiromi- Blowjobs for everyone & Pac-Man uncontrollably guzzling cum (Hiromi)

Louise- What Jesus would do & The South

Muta- The white half of Barack Obama & A black-owned and operated business

Baron- God & A chimpanzee in sunglasses fucking your wife

Haru- Jobs & Western standards of beauty

Toto- Important news about Taylor Swift & Starting a shitty podcast

“HIROMI!” “AHH SAVE ME SOMEBODY!�� (This was not the first time Hiromi used Pac-Man against Haru. Nor would it be the last.)

R12) Baron- In return for my soul, the Devil promised me (blank), but all I got was (blank).

Hiromi- Jesus & White people

Louise- Third base & Being fat and stupid

Muta- A subscription to Men’s Fitness & Pooping back and forth. Forever.

Persephone- Some shit-hot guitar licks & An ass disaster

Haru- Interspecies marriage & Necrophilia (winner)

Toto- The Blood of Christ & Adderall TM

“Guilty conscious Haru?” “I’M NOT A FURRY DAMNIT!”

R13) Haru- (prompt) You won’t believe what’s in my pussy. It’s (blank).

Hiromi- Daddy issues

Louise- The power of the Dark Side (winner)

Muta- A salty surprise

Persephone- Old-people smell

Baron- My collection of high-tech sex toys

Toto- How wet my pussy is.

“I hate you all.”

R14) Toto- (prompt) Money can’t buy me love, but it can buy me (blank)

Hiromi- The mere concept of Applebees TM

Louise- Sexual peeing

Muta- Authentic Mexican cuisine

Persephone- An asymmetric boob job (winner)

Baron- Helplessly gigling at the mention of Hutus and Tutsis

Haru- Switching to Geico®

R15) Hiromi- (prompt) (Blank) is a slippery slope that leads to (blank).

Louise- Blackface & Ripping open a man’s chest and pulling out his still-beating heart

Muta- Court-ordered rehab & Words, words, words.

Persephone- Same-sex ice dancing & Butt stuff

Baron- Establishing dominance & Stockholm Syndrome (winner)

Haru- Overpowering your father & Darth Vader

Toto- Copping a feel & A boo-boo

“Damn Baron, what are you into?” “I’m not! Why are you handing me these?” “Because you made shit go real dark, real quick boyo.”

R16) Louise- (prompt) My gym teacher got fired for adding (blank) to the obstacle course.

Hiromi- Walking into a glass door

Muta- Sperm whales

Persephone- Peeing a little bit

Baron- A face full of horse cum

Haru- Meatloaf, the man.

Toto- Warm, velvety muppet sex (winner)

“I think I need to give these back to you Toto.” “No no, you can still keep them.” (Cue unhappy Baron face.)

R17) Muta- What gets better with age?

Hiromi- Crippling debt

Louise- A Super Soaker TM full of cat pee (winner)

Persephone- Roland the Farter, flatulist to the king.

Baron- Yeast

Haru- The placenta

Toto- Nothing

“At least no one played ‘My genitals.’ this time.” “That can still change Haru~.”

R18) Persephone- (prompt) In his new action comedy, Jackie Chan must fend off ninja while also dealing with (blank).

Hiromi- Not having sex

Louise- Aaron Burr

Muta- Mixing M&Ms and Skittle like some kind of psychopath

Baron- The dentist

Haru- Samuel L. Jackson (winner)

Toto- Getting eaten alive by Guy Fieri

“To be fair, Ryan Renolds had a hard time dealing with Samuel L. Jackson in ‘The Hitman’s Bodyguard.’” “Still funny.”

R19) Baron- (prompt) Today on Maury: “Help! My son is (blank)!”

Hiromi- A woman

Louise- A monkey smoking a cigar (winner)

Muta- Teaching a robot to love

Persephone- Running naked through a mall, pissing and shitting everywhere

Haru- Such a big boy

Toto- Filling every orifice with butterscotch pudding

“What is ‘Maury’?” “An American TV show that mostly deals with people deliberately exposing themselves to lie detectors and paternity tests because they can’t stay in their lanes and be decent human beings.”

R20) Haru- (prompt) Heed my voice, mortals! I am the god of (blank), and I will not tolerate (blank)!Hiromi- Sunshine and rainbows & Incest

Louise- The profoundly handicapped & Throwing a virgin into a volcano

Muta- Sweet, sweet vengeance & Cheating in the Special Olympics

Persephone- Finger painting & The hiccups

Baron- Erectile dysfunction & Having a penis (winner) (game end)

Toto- Nickleback & Licking things to claim them as your own.

“That’s it, game over, Baron wins, Good night.” “Oh c’mon Haru.” “Nope! Can’t do it! Good night!”

- - - - - - - -

‘Most Horrible Person of the Night Award’ is an inside joke among my circle of RL friends that typically ends up being a bag of Doritos.

#the cat returns #cards against humanity #warning: bad language #tcr birthday bash #tcr birthday bash 2019 #the cat returns fanfics #chezpez writes #TCR

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maevefiction · 6 years

Text

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 18

When I awakened I was flat on my back, covers akimbo, Tom’s leg resting heavily over the lower half of my body, his bruised hand cupping my breast. I ran my fingers over his knuckles lightly, assessing the damage. I hadn’t thought to look closely in the bathroom to see what he’d struck. His breathing changed, and I knew he was awake as well. I turned my head to look at him as I rested my hand on top of his.

“You should tell him, you know.”

He yawned, blinking. “Tell who what now?”

“Your therapist. If you’re going to continue seeing him, you should tell him about…”

He rose up on one elbow. “About the baby?” I nodded, and he kissed me on the forehead. “I know. I will. Can’t very well expect him to help me resolve issues he’s completely unaware of.” He frowned. “It is what broke me, after all.”

I reached up and brushed his cheek with the back of my hand, his day-old beard scratchy and soft all at once. “Ditto.”

The left side of his mouth turned up in a sad, lopsided smile. “That’s the first time I’ve said the words out loud since it happened. The baby. I think about it that way all the time, but I don’t say it. Because it…wasn’t…yet, scientifically speaking? So it seems inappropriate to say, like it’s somehow offensive to term it such. My own experience gets all caught up with my unshakable belief that it’s the woman’s body, therefore, it’s her choice to do what she feels is necessary to do regarding a pregnancy.”

I frowned. “I’m in full agreement with you there. Though I don’t agree with a woman allowing her partner to think one thing when her actual intentions have been something completely different all along.” I shook my head. “Sorry. Don’t want to dredge it all up again every time you mention it…”

“No, don’t be. Please. I’m glad to finally be able to talk about it with someone other than myself. I think it’s…cathartic?”

I kissed his cheek. “Good. But if you want me to shut up at any point, say so.”

He opened his eyes wide. “And my saying so will actually result in the cessation of your speaking?”

“Fuck off.”

He laughed for a moment, then sat up. “Do you think about it?”

I sat up as well, watching his eyes drop to my breasts briefly, then return to my face. “Yes. Of course I do. The first week of May each year I find myself thinking of how old he…or she…would have been. That was right around when I would have been due. Eighteen this year. Which is…insane, isn’t it?”

He took my hand. “Five and a half months for me.”

We were silent for a few minutes, holding hands. He spoke first. “Maude, do you still want to have children?”

My brow furrowed as I considered a question I never thought I’d need to answer, and I let my heart lead instead of my brain. “I never really thought about it since, but…yes. Not right, like, now, but despite the fact that I have zero maternal skills or instincts and thus a most likely very limited potential for filling such a role, I’d like to have a family.”

He leaned in toward me, resting one hand on my hip, whispering softly in my ear. “You’ll be an incredible mother, Maude. Don’t you dare doubt that, not for a single second.”

I snorted. “I suppose if I use my own mother as a shining example of everything I shouldn’t do, I might not be half bad at it. Lord knows I don’t think it’s possible to fuck it up worse than she did.” I poked my index finger into his chest. “And you? Do you still want kids?”

He nodded. “I’ve always wanted a family of my own. To be a father. And, like you, I don’t think I could fuck it up any worse than my father did.” A smile spread slowly across his face. “For the first time, I’m finding myself thinking that I’m…well…no longer quite as devastated that things worked out the way they did. Is that awful of me? I hope not. I mean, if they hadn’t, we would have never met…”

“I’m actually totally on board with that, Hiddleston. And I’m also on board with a nice, hot shower followed by coffee and beignets at Café du Monde. You?”

“Will you be dressing after the shower? I mean, I don’t mind a bit if you’d like to venture out nude…”

I punched him in the arm. “Ugh. It’s not even seven AM yet. No. Just…no.”

He grinned, jumped up, grabbed his carryon bag and ran into the bathroom ahead of me before I could even stand.

“Thomas, you bastard…I have to pee so bad I’m going to scream.” I heard the toilet flush, then the shower turn on.

“The throne is all yours, my queen.”

“Wow. Such a benevolent king you are.” I tried to run my hands through my tangled hair as I sat down on the bowl. “If you don’t leave me some hot water you’re a dead man. You know that, right?”

He chuckled. I peed, flushed, washed my hands and went to dig around in my carryon for my shampoo, soap and all the other crap I needed to make myself look relatively human. My contacts felt like they were fused to my eyeballs, so I figured a change might be in order. I couldn’t remember where I’d put the box of them that I’d had shipped to Hawaii, but after strewing clothing all over the room floor and a long string of profanities into the air I found them safely tucked away in one of my floral print Doc Martens. I was kneeling naked on the carpet, leaning on one arm while I shoved the box of contacts back in my shoe with the other when I heard a heavy, wet thunk behind me. I craned my neck to determine the source, only to find Tom standing behind me, still glistening wet and dripping, the towel he’d begun drying himself with in a heap on the floor at his feet, his cock proudly erect, nostrils flaring and chest heaving.

I raised my left eyebrow. “Hi. Was there something you needed from me? Or are you just going to stand there like a Grecian statue subjecting me to Chinese water torture with all that drip…”

He sank to his knees and leaned over me, covering my body with his, hands on the floor next to mine. His cock slipped into the crack of my ass and he slid himself up and down it briefly, then paused. “Need. Something.”

He growled and thrust his hips forward, and the vibrations from his chest felt like a giant cat purring against my back. His lips found my neck, and he balanced on one hand as he reached under me with the other to cup my mound as he slid his index finger between my lips. He stilled.

“Maude, is something…is everything okay? You…you’re not…”

I’d hoped he wouldn’t notice. I should have known better. “Not as wet as I usually am? Yeah. Sorry. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. Please, continue.”

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to a sitting position as he rested on his haunches. “It’s not fine, love. I’m so sorry…I should have asked…you’re thinking about having to make all the necessary plans so you can bury your mother and here I am…”

I shook my head. “No, no…it’s not that. Not that at all. I think I’ve just got a mild case of…erm…performance anxiety, maybe?”

His mouth opened, then closed, finally frowning as his brow creased. “What? But…why would you…?” The crease faded and when his eyes widened and he bit his lip I knew he’d answered his own question.

My hands were clenched into fists, thumbs running back and forth over the sides of my index fingers. “Damn. I am really, really not proficient at this whole talking about my feelings bullshit.”

He reached out and put his hands over mine. “Tell me what’s on your mind. We’ll figure it all out together, all right?”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath and let it out to the count of ten. “I knew you’d been with other people. Obviously. And that’s, you know, fine. People need to get laid. That’s the deal. People have prior relationships. Also the deal. But now that I, like, really KNOW just how much more experience you’ve had than I have…I guess…oy…eh, fuck it…when presented with the reality of being intimate with you, it seems that all my sexual confidence went flying out the window and I feel as if anything I do in an attempt to satisfy you will be thoroughly inadequate.” I pulled my hands out from under his and covered my face as I shook my head. “Jesus fucking Christ, did I actually just say that out loud?”

He sat behind me, back against the bed, legs extended and resting on either side of mine, arms wrapped around my waist and his chin on my shoulder. “Yes, you did. And I’m glad you did. Maude, if the situation were reversed and I’d just learned about you what you learned about me last night…I’d like to think otherwise, but in actuality I believe I’d be feeling the exact same way.”

I sighed and dropped my chin to my chest as he continued speaking.

“Yes, I’ve had a far greater number of sexual encounters than you, many of them not exactly traditional or what one would expect their partner to have experienced. But I can say, with complete candor, that I have never experienced the sort of pure, unadulterated, lascivious carnal pleasure you bestow upon me with anyone else. NO ONE. I’d have use the term ‘satisfaction’ but that’s the understatement of the century and not the slightest bit accurate. Because that’s the thing of it, Maude…I’m never satisfied. As soon as I’ve had you, I want you again. I’ve spent the last two weeks in a nearly constant state of arousal. I wake up wanting you, I fall asleep wanting you. The slightest touch from you makes me hard. When I catch your scent, it makes me hard. The sound of your voice. My name on your lips, the way you move, a sideways glance in my direction, the peal of your laughter…and when you sing, my good lord, when you sing…I haven’t been this continually tumescent since I was a teenager. Perhaps ever. The way you feel around me when I’m inside you, how you can take all of me and I don’t have to hold back for fear of hurting you, the way you nearly swallow me whole, your boundless enthusiasm, your adventurousness, that your sense of humor extends into the bedroom, so to speak…your unabashed self-confidence…and the sounds you make, Maude, what they do to me…”

I turned around to face him, put my knees on the outside of his thighs and sank down on his cock, panting. “’K. I’m good now. Thanks for that. Fuck me?”

He grinned. “In this particular position I believe you’re going to have to do the majority of the fucking.”

“Fine. Whatever.” I grabbed his shoulders and began riding him mercilessly, rolling my hips as I chased the orgasm that had been building since he was midway through his monologue. My eyes traveled to where we were joined and lingered there, watching the way his hips rose and fell as he tried to thrust deeper. I moved my knees outward to give him better access, and the moan he let loose drew my eyes back to his face. His head lolled back on the bed, eyes closed, jaw clenched, hands on my ass, and the sight of him sent me over, walls clenching, squeezing him as the edges of my vision grew dim. I could feel him twitching, then stuttering as he began to come.

“Thomas, you are so fucking beautiful I swear I could come just from looking at you.”

He grabbed the sides of my head with his hands and kissed me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth as he spurted inside me, the sensation of his hot come coating my walls propelling me into a second orgasm that was even more powerful than the first. I pulled away from his mouth, wrapped my arms around him and collapsed, head on his shoulder, face buried in his neck.

He whispered in my ear. “That was an incredibly lovely thing to say, my darling. I feel the same way about you, you know.”

I didn’t have the energy to speak so I licked his neck instead.

He snorted. “So, performance anxiety problem solved, then, yeah?”

I ground down on his softening cock, feeling it begin to harden again instantly. “Yep. Yes. Indeed it is. And, thank you. You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.”

“And you sure know how to make a fella feel good about himself.” He kissed my forehead. “I’d rather stay here all day, but I suppose we should get going, eh?”

I sighed, grabbing his wet towel off the floor and stuffing it between my legs as I climbed off him and gathered up my stuff. Once I was in the bathroom I mopped myself off with the towel, then tossed it on the floor before stepping into the shower.

“Tom?”

“Yes?”

“Will you please make a note somewhere so we remember to tip the maids really, really well?”

He laughed. “Why, are you planning on making a mess?”

“We already made a mess.”

Silence for a moment. “Oh. I get it. Yes. Huge tip.” A long pause. “Note made.”

“Thank you.”

“You know, I have a decent cash flow at the moment so if you wish to partake in the creation of additional messes…”

“Count on it, stud muffin.”

“Stud? What, I’m a horse now?”

“I’m not sure you should go there, Loki.”

Silence again, until the shower curtain was flung open so I could watch as he whinnied and pranced around the bathroom.

I laughed until I cried, losing one of my crusty old contacts in the process.

“God…Tom…” Another fit of laughter. “You are…such…a fucking…dork.”

He grinned from ear to ear. “I’m aware. You look incredibly sexy when you laugh, you know.”

“Get out of my bathroom, you asshole. I need to focus. Which is an even bigger challenge now since I can only see out of one eye.”

He smirked.

“GO!”

“I love you, woman.”

“I love you too. Now get the fuck out, m’kay? And put some clothes on.”

He stuck his tongue out at me, then slapped himself on the ass as he walked through the door and into the main area of the room.

**************************************** For once, I knew exactly what I was going to wear before I even put my underwear on - brown and black galaxy print tank dress with my black Birkenstocks. The grommeted gladiator sandals seemed a little too flashy for the tasks at hand, and the forecasted temperature was ninety-seven degrees. No way did I want those strings digging into my sweaty calves. I even had my hair up in a top- knot so it wouldn’t be stuck to my neck all day long. Despite my suggestion that he wear shorts, Tom opted for a black V-neck T-shirt, jeans and…those boots.

We’d planned on walking, but once we stepped outside and the humidity slapped us in the face we turned to each other and said ‘car’ in unison. Café du Monde was two miles from the hotel, and we parked a few blocks away. Tom had never been, and watching him take it all in was a delight. He was captivated by the architecture, the diversity of the crowd, and the strains of music in the air even at this early hour. When we arrived at the Café, he grabbed my arm and shook it gently.

“I’ve seen pictures, and read about it in so many books over the years…and now, here it is, right in front of me!” He pulled out his phone, took a selfie with the patio and awning in view, typed with his thumbs, then showed me his tweet.

New Orleans. Café du Monde. Going to have my first official beignet with a café au lait. #uncontrolablyexcited

I grinned as we entered the building. “If you think you’re excited now wait until you taste the fucking things.” We took our place in the line to order. “And nice job with the tweeting. Going to put in on Tumblr, too?”

He shook his head. “Nope. The shot I get out on the patio is going there.”

“I’m impressed, Thomas.”

“Well, all the credit belongs to my social media manager. She may be a tad demanding, but she’s an exceptionally good motivator.”

I shrugged. “I can’t argue with any of that. Well, I suppose I could, but I’d rather stuff my face with powdered-sugar coated fried dough.”

A single order of beignets consisted of three delectable squares of goodness, and we each got two, giving us a total of twelve beignets. Which, in the past, I’d had no problems polishing off on my own. I convinced myself I could share like a responsible, caring adult…and if that didn’t work out, we could always order more. Tom’s café au lait was the traditional kind, served hot, and I decided the iced version was the way to go. It was technically only half coffee, so one surely couldn’t hurt me too badly as, unlike yesterday, I had a few solid hours of sleep under my belt and was vastly less anxious. Plus, you can’t go to the Café du Monde and order soda. It’s just not right. And soda mixed with all that powdered sugar…too sweet, even for me.

We made our way out to the patio and found a corner right next to the fence with a great view of the street, both of us seating ourselves on one side of the round table. I edged over a good bit so I could see his face, and because I abhorred the thought of being one of those couples. You know the type…they sit on the same side of the booth, drape themselves all over each other and make you want to puke. He immediately moved his chair closer to me.

I rolled my eyes. “Dude, have you no respect for my personal space? Or is it that you want easy access to my food?”

He put his hand on my upper thigh, squeezed and whispered in my ear. “That’s not all I’d like easy access to, Maude.”

I picked up a beignet and held it to his lips. “Shut up and eat, Thomas.”

He waggled his eyebrows at me and took a huge bite, groaning salaciously as he chewed and swallowed.

“They’re everything I’d hoped they’d be and so much MORE.” He downed his six in minutes, then began working on my pile until I slapped his hand away when there were only three left. I ate them slowly, one nibble at a time, savoring the taste. I’d come here with Anne many times over the years, and by myself after school when I felt like reading out of doors instead of in the library. There weren’t many fond memories for me in New Orleans, but this…this was near the top of the list.

I popped the last bite into my mouth, wiped my face with a napkin and took a sip of my beverage. We sat in silence, drinking and watching the world go by around us. It was surreal, being back here, and even more so because I wasn’t on my own. Tom dragged his chair so he was right next to me, phone in hand.

He smiled softly. “Do you mind being in this one?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. Any residual sugar on my face?”

He gave me a once over. “No. Me?”

“Nope, you’re good.”

He took three shots, and I declined to offer any input on which was better, instead pulling my phone out of my bag to see if it was nine AM yet, which seemed a safe time to begin making calls.

He shoved his screen on top of mine.

Today we’re in New Orleans, and I’ve just finished my first authentic beignet. All right, my first nine beignets. Enjoying our café au laits and the timeless atmosphere. Everywhere I look is a glimpse straight into the past. Amazing. Feeling very, very grateful for this life I’ve been given and the people I’m so blessed to have sharing it with me.

I pinched his cheek. “Me too, you adorable fucker.”

He chuckled, kissed me quickly, the returned to his phone. “I’m going to try Luke. What time is it there? Six?”

“No. Five-fifteen.”

“Shit, I guess I’d better wait then. Though Simon’s probably up doing yoga.” He saw I’d pulled up the funeral home’s info on my phone. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

I shook my head and dialed.

A gentleman with a deep, somber voice answered the phone and I almost burst out laughing at how stereotypical it was. “Estelle J. Willson, how may I help you?”

“Good morning. My name is Maude Gallagher…”

“Miss Gallager, Mr. Cooper at Passages reached out last night to let us know you’d be in touch. I’m Francis Black, the office manager. I’m very sorry for your loss. Would you like to make an appointment to come in today to meet with Cheryl Henderson, our funeral director?”

“Thank you. And yes, I would, but I’m not certain as to what Mrs. Bonaventura had in mind as far as arrangements go, so it’s probably best if I meet with her attorney first.”

“Well then, how about y’all just drop by once you’ve gotten that out of the way? I’ll let Mrs. Henderson know to expect you. Any time is fine, and since we have a visitation scheduled she’ll be here until after nine tonight.”

“That’s perfect. Thank you, Mr. Black. I’ll phone back once I have a better handle on things.”

I glanced at Tom. He was staring intently at a short, portly, older gentleman playing the violin at the other end of the Café’s patio area. I smiled and Googled the number for the Dooley Law Firm, then hit the call icon.

A woman answered, her accent so light I had to wonder if she’d left and come back, or if she hadn’t been here very long. When you’re immersed in it every day, it’s very difficult to not pick it up, even if it’s just the slightest bit on particular words. “Good morning, Dooley Law Firm, Sally Anne speaking.”

“Good morning, Sally Anne. I’m Maude Gallagher and I need to make an appointment with Bartholomew Stevens…he’s Mary Bonaventura’s attorney. She passed away on Saturday. I’m her daughter.” My eyes rolled as the words left my mouth.

“Oh, all right then. Let me check his schedule. He’s free today at ten AM. Will that work for you?”

“Absolutely. Thanks so much.”

“Sure thing, Miss Gallagher. Just check in at the desk when you get here.”

I put my phone on the table and drained the last of my iced café au lait. Tom put his arm around me.

“You okay?”

I leaned into him. So much for not being one of those couples. Perhaps I was just so jaded that I’d always judged too harshly.

“I’d like to reiterate that I’m glad you’re here.”

He kissed the top of my head. “I am as well, love.”

As I sat back up my phone rang. Lestat calling. Tom peeked at the screen, left eyebrow raised, questioning.

“It’s Anne. She’s in there under that because I think it’s hilarious to see…anyway. Shit. I don’t wanna, but I should, I guess…” I hit the answer button, but couldn’t think of what to say.

“Maude? Are you there?”

“Yeah. Hi.”

“How are you doing, honey?”

“I’m doing. You?”

“I wanted to apologize before I saw you. You were correct. It was very wrong of me to withhold the fact that your mother had divorced from you. Sometimes my faith hinders my logic.”

I snorted. “Which is why I have no faith. And Anne, I’m sorry too. I was a total see you next Tuesday to you. I know you were just being…you. Always trying to be kind and decent to everyone, looking out for their immortal souls. Even if they are complete and total douchebags who don’t deserve it.”

She laughed. “I have to say, with your mother, it was difficult. I’m hard pressed to think of any redeeming qualities she possessed, other than giving birth to you. But I know your father would have wanted me to do what I could, so I did.”

I felt myself go cold when she mentioned him and decided to redirect her. “What did you mean, before you saw me?”

“I’m in town so I can attend her services. Just got here an hour or so ago, and when I saw Tom’s tweet I assumed that meant you were here, too.”

I groaned. “I sincerely regret teaching you so much about social media.”

“Christopher regrets it as well. He said if I try to fix him up with someone I find online just one more time he’s deleting all my accounts.” I laughed. “So, I don’t suppose you’d let me take you both out for dinner this evening? Court of Two Sisters, maybe?”

I put her on speaker, then turned to Tom. “Anne has requested the pleasure of our company at dinner this evening. You game?”

He waved at my phone, and I giggled. “Hello, Anne. And yes, I’m so very, very game. Thank you kindly for thinking of us.”

Anne inhaled sharply. “Good Lord, Maude…how is it that you can listen to that voice and still manage to leave your hotel room?”

My face scrunched up as I winced at her comment, and Tom smirked evilly at me.

“You know you’re on speaker, don’t you?”

She chuckled. “Whoops. Chalk it up to my being a forgetful old woman who’s confused by technology. But really, how do…” I smashed my finger on the speaker button to change our conversation back to private.

“So, what time is dinner then?”

“Is eight o’clock all right?”

“Sounds good.”

“Excellent. I’ll reserve my table. Can’t wait to see you kid. If you need anything in the interim, call.”

“I will. Thanks.”

I hit end call and looked at Tom. He was still smirking. “Come on, you. It’s a fifteen minute drive to the attorney’s office and if we don’t leave now I’ll be late.”

He smirked all the way to the car, and I began to wonder if dinner with two people who knew so much about me was perhaps a terrible idea.

**************************************** Bartholomew Stevens was a giant of a man, two inches taller than Tom and outweighing him by at least a hundred pounds. He was dressed in a light blue and white seersucker suit with a navy blue and white polka dotted tie, his black hair streaked with silver, as was his handlebar mustache. After shaking our hands, he invited us to take a seat in the leather wing-back chairs across from his huge mahogany desk and asked if we’d like some lemonade or iced tea. I passed, Tom chose lemonade. Sally Anne brought it in moments later.

“Miss Gallagher, I’m so very sorry for your loss. Your momma was…one of a kind.” His voice was deep, not quite booming, but I could imagine the attention it would receive echoing in an open courtroom.

I resisted the urge to be snarky. “Thank you, Attorney Stevens. She was indeed…unique.” Tom almost spit out his lemonade.

“Please, call me Barty. We’re all friends here.”

“And feel free to call me Maude.”

“I do like that name, Maude. Are you aware that it means powerful battler, or warrior?”

I smiled. “I am. But my father chose it because he loved the television show. And Bea Arthur.”

Barty laughed, slapping his knee. “Oh, that’s rich, I say. Rich. I didn’t know your father personally, but I do know that he was a good, hard working fella.” He cleared his throat. “Anyhow. You’re here for the details so you can get to the funeral parlor, I’d assume, so I don’t want to take up too much of your time. First order of business. The will.”

He looked at my face to gauge my reaction. He got nothing.

“Mary died intestate. Meaning she had no will.”

My eyes narrowed. “I’m aware of what intestate means, but thank you.”

He grinned. “Most people can’t even spell it, never mind know what it means.”

I leaned forward. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. That she had no will…now that surprises me. I would have thought she’d want to be crystal clear about who got what. Or who didn’t get what, as the case may be.”

“Well, after she married that young man back in 1998 they both came in and she had me draw one up listing him as the sole beneficiary of her estate. After he left town with his high school girlie, she came in and filed a statement with me to revoke all existing wills and codicils, marked the one with him on it void and said she wasn’t interested in having a new one made. I don’t know if he was notified, and he may have a copy of it on hand. If any issues arise, just call the office and I’ll take care of it. But, bottom line, there is no will in place, so by default the estate passes to you.”

The thought of having to deal with Will regarding such a matter was both horrifying and entertaining. If he thought he was going to cash in there was no way he wouldn’t be making an appearance, and I was glad I at least had a bit of a heads up.

I took a deep breath to clear my head. “Did she know that would be the case?”

He laughed. “I never told her as much, but I’m sure she did. Now, let’s get down to brass tacks, shall we? The estate consists solely of the home on Saint Charles and its contents. Any cash she had on hand she either spent prior to entering the hospice, or donated after paying up front for her anticipated time at Passages. They may owe you a few days, but it’s probably not worth the hassle to try and get it back. She did not set any funds aside for funeral expenses, and had no life insurance policy.”

I waved my hand at him. “I figured as much. I’ll take care of everything.”

He nodded. “An upstanding thing to do, young lady. The house, I’m afraid, has a rather large home equity loan attached to it. If sold it will most likely generate a profit, but I’m not privy to the condition of said home nor on top of current market values, so take that with a grain of salt. Might be best to let the bank take it.”

“How much is the loan balance?”

“Right around three hundred thousand or so.”

Tom whistled. I shrugged and pulled out my phone to do a quick search on prior sales.

“Will you put all of the info together for me so I can contact the loan holder? I need to have it appraised first, but I’m more than likely going to pay it off and take possession.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Tom leaning way forward to try and catch my eye. I kept my focus on Barty.

“I most certainly will, Maude. I’ll have everything we’ve discussed typed up and printed for you.”

“Can you email a PDF instead?” I took my wallet out of my bag, pulled out one of my business cards and put it on his desk.

“Yes I can. Only a few more things to cover and then you can head on out. Your mother did write up a list for me as far as what she’d like…done. She requested Estelle J. Wilson, which I believe you already know.”

I nodded.

“She’d like their Traditional Service, visitation one night, funeral service there the next day, followed by interment in the family Garden Crypt at the Greenwood Cemetery, where your father is.”

My hands balled into fists reflexively, jaw clenching.

“She’s also requested a particular dress…here’s a picture of it…that’s in the closet at the house. I have the key to get in for you, as well as the combination to the safe and another key for what she’s left in there for you. I have no idea what that may be. But, that should do it. If you have questions or need anything, call me on my cellular phone. The number’s on the back of the picture.”

I stood, and Tom rose with me. I proffered my hand. “Thank you, Barty. This was very thorough, but nice and short. Much appreciated.”

He shook it, his large meaty hand encasing mine almost to the point of it being invisible. “You’re very welcome, Maude. I’m sure you have quite a roster of things to take care after this. Best of luck to you, and again, if you need me, just call.” He turned to Tom, hand extended, and they shook vigorously. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Thomas.”

“And yours as well, Barty. Thank you for the lemonade. It was delicious treat, perfect for a July day.”

“You’re quite welcome. Take it easy out there. It’s goddamn hot, even for New Orleans.”

I didn’t speak as we left the building, wanting to wait until we got in the car to see what Tom had to say. If anything. He just stared at me blankly.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Hiddleston?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again several times, bearing a strong resemblance to a nutcracker, then spoke. “I’m not sure where to start. Even though I know the entire back story, I’m having trouble believing that someone could be so…so…awful that they’d make a conscious effort to ensure that their only child was not just left with nothing upon their passing but actually had to pay money out of their own pocket to bury them.”

I patted his knee. “Yeah. She was quite the fucking asshole. But the joke’s on her. She kept the loan balance high because she thought I’d never be able to pay it off, and, I’m sure, because she spent money like fucking water, but it’s glaringly apparent she neglected to re-evaluate property values in the area since, like, forever. She demanded that they take out the loan back before I graduated from high school so they’d have some ‘savings’ since she’d blown through her entire inheritance buying, remodeling and redecorating the house. The reason they were able to borrow so much was because they paid cash for it and had nothing but equity. Things have…changed. Even if it’s in terrible condition, it’s worth at least six hundred thousand. If it doesn’t need any major repairs, up that to eight hundred thousand. Or more. Either way, that’s a tidy profit margin when I sell it.”

He shook his head. “How are you planning on…”

I interrupted him. “Remember that Exxon stock that my dad left me? It was two thousand shares. I sold it all, spent a quarter of it getting myself set up in New York, sat on the remaining hundred thousand for a few years, and when I was given the opportunity to participate in Google’s IPO I gambled most of it. I bought eleven hundred shares at eight-five dollars per, then sold it in May of 2013 when the stock hit nine hundred dollars a share.”

I could see him trying to do the math. He looked at me, smiling sheepishly. “Not happening, I’m afraid. I’ve never been good at doing math in my head. How much is that?”

“Nine hundred and ninety-thousand dollars.”

“Are you fucking joking? I was way off…and that’s…wow.”

“I was just in the right place at the right time. My dad gets all the props for leaving me something to work with, and for not letting my mother bully him into cashing it in so she could spend it. I’m hoping it will allow me to retire before I hit fifty. It’s all nestled safely away, earning interest. There’s no way I’ll be able to resist adding more to the pot by investing some of it for a little while.”

He tapped his chin with his index finger. “Hmm…I don’t suppose you’d be interested in being my financial manager, would you?”

“Depends. Would my compensation be in the form of sexual favors?”

“It would be my sincerest pleasure to pay you however you’d prefer. And that sounds like a lot more fun than writing a check.”

“I’ll take the matter under advisement.” I pulled out my phone and called the funeral home to let them know we were on our way, then headed down Canal Street to Route 10. A left onto MLK Boulevard was next, then a right onto Lasalle, a left onto Washington and a sharp left onto Danneel. Four miles total, thirteen minutes. Traffic moves slowly in New Orleans. Not New York City slow, but still slow.

A gentleman was seated at the front desk, and as soon as he said hello I knew it had to be Mr. Black. Somber voice. Mr. Black. Working at a funeral home. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from laughing like a lunatic at my own joke.

He escorted us to an office, and Mrs. Henderson greeted us at the door. We sat on the couch, she sat in one of the chairs across from us. She was dressed in a grey suit jacket and matching A-line skirt, her blouse white with a high ruffled collar. Mid-fifties, blonde hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, cats eye glasses with black frames resting low on her nose.

“Miss Gallagher, I am truly sorry for your loss. Rest assured we’ll take care of every little thing so you don’t have to, all right?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Henderson. According to Attorney Stevens, my mother wanted your Traditional Service, visitation one night, funeral the next. Interment in the family crypt in Greenwood Cemetery. He provided me with a key to her home so I can procure the dress she wanted to be buried in…I’ll deliver that here to you at some point today. If it’s at all possible, I’d like to schedule things for Wednesday and Thursday of this week. Tomorrow would be better, but I understand that’s probably not an option.”

She nodded. “Not enough time to get things ready for tomorrow. But Wednesday and Thursday…” She reached behind her and grabbed an iPad off the desk, pausing as she scrolled through her appointment book. “We can do receiving hours from four until six, and schedule the service at one with the interment at two. Will that work for you?”

“Definitely, thank you.”

“We’ll get it online today and in tomorrow’s newspapers. Did you want the service and interment public or private?”

“Service public, interment private, please.”

She reached out and put her hand over mine briefly. “I always hate asking this, but it’s necessary. Open or closed casket?”

Instantaneously, my mind was flooded with images from when my father died, my mother sitting next to me at another funeral home in town answering that same question. Her reply had been ‘Oh my good god, closed, of course. It’s bad enough that everyone knows he blew his brains out. I don’t want them to see it too.’ The funeral director explained that they’d be able to cover it all up, but she insisted someone would notice, so closed it was. I placed a photograph of him on top of the casket, but when I looked back a few minutes later it had disappeared. I found it later in the restroom garbage can. I was never sure who’d done it…my mother, or Will. Tom’s hand rubbing my leg drew me back into the present, and I turned my head to meet his gaze. My hands were shaking, and I’d broken out in a cold sweat.

He leaned in, eyes full of concern, speaking in a voice just north of a whisper. “It’s okay, Maude. You’re okay. I’m right here. Whatever you need.”

I took a deep breath, then swallowed hard as I grabbed his hand and held on like I never intended to let go. “Thank you.” He squeezed twice, then brought our joined hands to his lips and kissed mine.

I turned back to Mrs. Henderson. “Sorry about that.”

She shook her head. “No need to apologize, dear. This is a very difficult time for you.” She glanced at Tom. “I’m glad to see you have someone so supportive to help you through it.”

I managed a weak smile as I felt my strength begin to return. “So…what’s your opinion, if you don’t mind my asking? Would open be inappropriate based on her condition?”

“Our cosmetologist is very talented, and I’m certain she can erase all traces of the jaundice and…well, I doubt you want the details but no, I don’t think an open casket would be inappropriate at all. If you happen to have a picture of your mother for her to work off of that would be very helpful.”

“Thank you. Let’s go with open, then. I’m sure I can find a picture somewhere in her home, and I’ll bring it back with the dress. Is there anything else you’ll need?”

“That should be all as far as that goes. You’ll need to choose a casket next, and I’ll let you flip through some catalogs while I get the paperwork and contract together.” She rose, removed some binders from a shelf behind her desk and set them on the end table next to me. I bit my lip.

“Mrs. Henderson, I’m really completely out of my depth here. Would you mind suggesting something or pointing me in the right direction?”

She smiled. “Sure thing. Did your mother prefer silver or gold?”

I grimaced. “Gold. All of our plumbing fixtures were gold. All of them.”

She laughed. “And you must be a silver, then.”

“Absolutely.”

“Any corresponding color preference?”

“White. Or pink.”

She pulled the bottom binder from the stack, flipping through the pages rapidly. “How’s this one?”

It was a monstrosity, a glossy white finish with gold inlay, accents and handles. “It’s perfect. She would have loved it…looks just like her bathtub.”

Either my snark didn’t register, or she pretended not to notice. “It’s one we stock here as well. I could find something pink but it would take a few days to get it in. There are some less expensive models if you…”

I held up my hand. “Thanks, but this one’s fine.”

“Wonderful. I’ll get your contract and invoice ready. Won’t take but a few minutes.”

She sat at her desk and began typing on her laptop. I ran my thumb along Tom’s wrist.

“Miss Gallagher? Did you want floral arrangements?”

“Um, sure. Whatever most people do is fine.”

“How do pink roses sound?”

“Just right. Thank you.”

Her printer noisily spat out a pile of papers, and she waved me over to the chair next to her desk. I wrote quickly, my signature and words a messy blur. Embalming authorization, contract, crypt information. Once that was completed, she handed me the invoice. Twenty thousand four-hundred fifty-two dollars and seventy-six cents.

“We do offer payment plans, and if the attorney provides us with the necessary estate information only a ten percent deposit is required. You can bring that with you later as well, if you’d like. The payment plan amount due today would be five thousand dollars, the remainder paid in three additional installments over the next three months.”

“Do you accept credit cards?”

“Visa, Mastercard or American Express.” I gave her my Visa. “Thank you. I just have to run out to the main office and have Mr. Black charge the first installment…”

I interrupted her. “No, charge the full balance, please. Thanks.” Her eyes widened as she got up from her chair and left the room. I got up and went back and sat on the couch. Tom embraced me, and I rested my head on his chest. Neither of us spoke, and when we heard footsteps outside the door we disentangled ourselves.

Mrs. Henderson handed me a credit card slip to sign. I did, and she stapled it to the extra copies of the paperwork she’d printed, tucked it all in folder and passed it to me.

“Miss Gallagher, again, I’m very sorry for you loss. Thank you for choosing us to assist you. Someone will be here tonight until at least nine, and our cosmetologist is used to working odd hours, but the sooner you can have the dress and photo here the better.”

I got up and shook her hand. “No, thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your making this so simple. I’ll do my best to be back here in an hour or so.”

Tom said goodbye to her as well, and as we walked out of her office he took my hand and didn’t let go until we reached the car. I looked up at him.

“Sorry about what happened in there.” I relayed what I’d been thinking about, and he embraced me again, holding me tightly in the damp heat of mid-day. He opened the passenger door after convincing me that he should drive. I got in and immediately put my head between my knees. He rubbed my back until I inhaled deeply and sat up, then exhaled.

I put my hand on his thigh and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, my Maude.”

I pulled the keys Barty had given me out of my bag, then looked at Tom, smiling sadly. “I guess it’s finally time to go back…home.”

#your light in the mist #chapter 18

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vagrantblvrd · 6 years

Text

Fed by Hand (1/1)

Summary: Gavin finds her by chance, this little ball of fur and claws and sharp little teeth.

Notes: For @miss-ingno who asked for "Quick catch that cat it stole my wallet!” from this prompt list with Gavin, Jeremy and either Dan or Michael? :DDDDDDDDDDDD

AO3

Gavin finds her by chance, this little ball of fur and claws and sharp little teeth.

He's climbing down from a potential spot to set up a sniping position for a job and hears it. This tiny little annoyed noise among the pile of garbage along one side of the alley. Some furious scrabbling noises that go on for a bit before that same tiny sound comes again, even more irritated this time.

And of course Gavin goes to investigate just like any good little idiot in a horror movie, because that's an interesting little sound, isn't it? Couldn't possibly ignore it and go on his way, meet Jeremy and Michael at the car and head back to the penthouse to let Geoff know things are running smoothly, goodness no.

He's quiet, years of practice that boils down to habit when he doesn't think about it. Avoids the crumpled cans and broken bottles, steps over random puddles of something that he hopes is water but knows aren't. (He then has to take a moment to gag because his brain is cheerfully offering up unhelpful suggests as to what they could be in a voice that sounds far too much like Michael's.)

The scrabbling noise stops abruptly, and Gavin winces. Waits a second, and then another. Gives it a few more before there's a faint rustling noise and then whatever has been poking about in the garbage pokes its head out.

Dirty fur and two bright little eyes surveying the alley warily and Gavin's heart melts because it's a kitten.

Tiny and adorable and oh, what a little darling she is.

He smiles when she spots him, crouched a few feet away and watching her with what is no doubt a silly look on his face. Bites his lip to keep from cooing when her ears go back and she hisses at him, darting back into the safety of the garbage pile.

Fierce little thing, making little growling noises from the security of her hiding spot as if to chase him away. Peeks out at him when he doesn't budge an inch, teeth bared and ready to defend herself if he gets too close or does something she doesn't like.

There's no possible way he could leave the kitten out here in the wilds of Los Santos all on her own. Not when there are other strays out here with mean temperaments and people with even meaner ones.

He knows if he moves any closer she'll bolt, and if he leaves to get food to tempt her out of hiding she'll be gone just as fast. Dart out of hiding and away from the alley as fast as her feet will take her.

In his pocket Gavin's phone buzzes, and his eyes light up.

“Michael,” he says, when he answers, “I need a favor.”

========

Michael is not happy.

Michael is not won over by the tiny growling kitten glaring at them for all she's worth from within the safety of her little fort.

Michael is -

“I fucking hate you guys,” Michael says, for what has to be the twentieth time at least since he called Gavin to ask where the fuck he was, Jesus Christ, Gavin.

Gavin ignores him with the ease of someone who's known him for years, great friends really, and tears off a bit off the hamburger patty he's been using to lure the kitten out of hiding with mixed results.

Jeremy's beside him speaking quietly as he works at coaxing her to come out of hiding. Michael's somewhere behind them acting at being grumpy and annoyed and irritated with both of them for being the kind of idiots who have spent almost an hour trying to convince a stray they're the trustworthy sort, given their line of work.

It's working though, in fits and starts. Skittish little thing that she is, shell venture out far enough to grab a bit of the hamburger Michael and Jeremy went to get and scurry back to her hiding spot. Watch them, hissing and growling and scared.

“Idiots,” Michael says again, variation on a theme, and settles more comfortably against the wall he's leaning against to better heckle them. “She's going to pee on everything you love and claw the fuck out of everything.”

Still, Michael doesn't demand they leave the alley and the tiny kitten with the wary eyes behind. Tells Geoff they'll be on their way back to the penthouse after they take care of something first when he calls to ask what's taking them so long. Complains up a storm about it, but goes to get more food to lure the kitten out when they run out, Gavin and Jeremy loathe to go themselves.

Stays there with them until they manage to coax the kitten out, allow them to touch. Allows Jeremy to pick her up, little body trembling slightly as she continues to growl at them.

Only complains the tiniest bit when the kitten takes a swipe at him in passing as Jeremy walks by him with her in his arms. Gives Gavin a look when he tries and fails not to laugh, because Michael's a soft touch when it comes to it, and hates to admit it.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole.”

========

“Jeremy, we're not naming her after your ridiculous Rimmy Tim character!”

Jeremy's eyes go wide, hand over his heart like Gavin's mortally wounded him with his words.

“Gavin,” he says, small and shocked. “How could you?”

Gavin snorts, turning his attention to the fluffy ball of murder and rage glaring at them from her spot under the couch.

Newly bathed, fur puffed up everywhere and very displeased with current matters if the noises she's making are any indication.

Under the dirt and grime she's turned out to be a lovely little orange calico. Little patches of black on her face like a mask, and oh, that just perfect, isn't it?

Gavin glances at Jeremy, the look on his face that means trouble, a headache, because Jeremy is a damn menace. Smiling like a loon the moment he'd seen the kitten's coloring, making this high-pitched noise of utter delight.

And Gavin, he's well-versed in this particular series of terrible decisions on Jeremy's part. Sees it coming when he insists on burdening her with an absolutely awful name.

“No,” Gavin says, and flings the towel he used to dry the kitten off at Jeremy's face, already running when it hits and Jeremy lets out a yell of outrage.

Laughter his voice as he gives chase, Gavin squawking as he ducks past Ryan who's watching with an amused look in his eye.

========

Geoff claims he wants nothing to do with the kitten, but Gavin's seen him watching her thoughtfully when she ventures out from her favorite hiding spot. Skittish little thing who's slowly adjusting to her new home and the lunatics who inhabit it.

“The moment she claws the furniture she's gone,” he says, faint smile on his face as he throws out a little cat toy that the kitten attacks with a ferocious sounding cry.

“Of course,” Gavin agrees, filming the whole thing on his phone for posterity's sake. “Absolutely.”

========

Jack adores the kitten.

Careful around her the way everyone is, kind and gentle and a little furry shadow at his heels most days.

He spends some time doing a little bit of research, and builds and sets up platforms and walkways for her along the walls of the penthouse despite Geoff's bitching. Builds a cat tree for her out of the scraps, and tucks treats and cat toys around the place to encourage her to explore.

When she grows bolder, he decides she'd be the perfect accomplice when it comes to being an utter bastard.

“Oh, Jack,” Gavin says, watching with delight as Jack slips a little catnip sachet into the pocket to one of Geoff's jackets, “he's going to be so angry.”

Jack smiles, sweet as anything, and says, “I have no idea what you're talking about, Gavin.”

========

Michael's the one to settle the name debate once and for all.

Nixes all of Jeremy's entries because they're all terrible and a variation on a theme, all involving his alter ego, and Michael is a man with taste.

“Okay, but you saying that also means I have to say no to your suggestions, dumbass.”

Rude.

Michael snorts, watching the kitten as she stalks the feather toy Jeremy's sweeping along the floor in front of her.

She's smart and clever and a thief of all things left unattended for any amount of time. Seems to have a predilection for shiny things.

Just this morning Gavin had to go hunting for his sunglasses and discovered yet another stash she'd hidden away. Found things that had gone missing and a very put out cat eyeing him when she caught him sorting through it all.

Clever little thief with a sweet face who's so very good at stealing hearts, makes it look easy.

“Bandit,” Michael says, wry twist to his mouth as though he thinks it's a dumb idea, a dumb name, but -

“Oh, come on!” Jeremy says, laughing helplessly as the kitten, watching Bandit vanish under the couch with the feather cat toy as her prize.

Perfect.

========

Ryan, the brilliant bastard, has turned Bandit into quite the talented little thief, it seems.

Has been working behinds the scene almost from the start. Tempted her with shiny bits and bobs and rewarded her handsomely with her favorite treats. Used her obvious joy, interest, to go from there.

Has been training her up for weeks, months now. Working slowly and carefully and it's all paid off today, it seems.

“Quick, catch that cat it stole my wallet!” Geoff wails, running after a little flash of orange and black and white, exasperated and bewildered at having to utter those words. “Motherfucker, get back here!”

Ryan is laughing, loud and honest and helpless it as Bandit easily evades Geoff, wallet held tightly in her teeth.

The other are watching things play out in amusement, Jeremy breathless with laughter and Jack's trying hard to muffle his own. Michael is laughing that odd little laugh of his, quiet delight, and Gavin -

“Really?”

Ryan shrugs, soft little smile on his face, “Have to start somewhere.”

========

Gavin's got a bit of a problem sometimes, or so the others tell him.

Works too hard, as though there's such a thing.

Trades sleep and food and other supposedly important things when he's tackling a task for the crew, or his own purposes. Chasing after some tantalizing bit of information, some little piece of a greater puzzle.

The others have resigned themselves to this tendency of his. Take it in turns to make sure he eats something, stays hydrated. Gets sleep, the times they manage to remind him that's still a thing no matter how often he tells them it's not.

It works in the way Gavin's still alive in spite of himself, thanks to their efforts. An imperfect arrangement, to be sure.

Bandit doesn't seem to approve.

Makes her way into the room set aside for Gavin's computers, gear. Thee area where Ryan tinkers sometimes, gadgets and terrible little devices for work and just for fun. Make everyone's lives a little more difficult just because he can.

“And what do you want, I wonder?” Gavin asks, smiling at the way Bandit cocks her head at him

Splash of color at her throat, grudging concession to Jeremy and his obsession with his Rimmy Tim persona.

Bandit gives herself a little shake. Strolls over to curl up on his keyboard, looking him in the eye as if daring him to object. Calm and relaxed and so very different from the tiny, dirty kitten hissing and growling at them in an alley so many months ago.

Gavin watches her as she watches him and knows already he won't be winning this one. Has never been able to even when she was younger. Small and quiet and ready to bolt at the slightest thing, and astoundingly brave.

Coming up to him to drop one of Ryan's hairbands at his feet before moving just out of reach, just in case. Head tipped up to look at him as she let out one of her soft little meows, eager to play fetch the way Ryan had taught her. (First step into training her to be a bloody literal cat burglar in the making. A joke, certainly, just another devious plan to annoy the hell out of them.)

And now she does things like this, settling herseridiclf squarely in the way. Defiant look in her eyes and no fear to her at all. Going around as though she owns the place and views them as though they're incredibly dim and in need of extra care is they're to survive.

Bandit meows, inquisitive little noise, and Gavin sighs. Realizes there's no point in continuing to work when there's when there's a very stubborn obstacle in the way.

“You're just so proud of yourself for this, aren't you?”

Bandit closes her eyes and starts to purr, which is answer enough.

#miss-ingno #fahc #fahc fic #ridiculous sentence prompts #prompt fills #vagrant fic #kings of nowhere

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