Oct 15, 2010 19:39
[Donny's turned on his communicator while taking a stroll around Salem with Clapet. He whistles a little.] Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalem. Salem Salem Salem. Witch City.
Smell that? That right theah's the Atlantic. Smells like...feet and the sea. And it's got a fahkin' lot of jellyfish in it fah some reason, d'ya see 'em? Look, look...no, you gotta squint, now d'ya see 'em? [And here's the sound of Donny picking up a rock and throwing it into the harbor, followed by dumb chuckling.]
So close to Bawstin, yet so fahkin' far. Came heah on a trip once fah school, yaknow? Looks...pretty much the same. Lot more assholes wearing capes, but pretty much the same town. Same graveyahd, same streets, same...alright, so that dancing hobo's new, but ya can't fahkin' expect the townies to stay the same.
But how fahkin' funny is that, eh guy? Seventy years later, everything sorta looks like it did when I was a kid?
Guy?
[A long sigh.]
Alright, Clapet, let's go get a drink and find out how the Sawks did this summah. Everyone else still listening? Welcome to the North Shore! Stay the fakh outta Lynn!
((My fellow Massholes, I dedicate this post to you. <3 <3
Also, Donny's accent will probably get progressively worse the longer he's in port. He's gonna need a translator.))
my inmate wears woolen trousers too,
this place looks strangely familiar,
donny is a poet