Mr Severus Snape! Yes, you! You've been lurking. Which, I guess, is a default position for you, sneaking around, being unseen. Or something. This is a good bottle of wine. Basically, I've got to give you a present. Because I'm generous like that, and you keep not being where I am.
Which is damned inconsiderate of you! Now I have to write this out ands start rambling at you and generally hope that you get this message, and make it entirely public knowledge that I'm being so generous.
Although literature's a bloody dangerous thing, you know. Aside from papercuts which are, what, some kind of hazard of the job. I'm now running a prison library, or more accurately, a library prison. Blerg.
[Filtered to everyone bar O'Brien and Sveta (because sometimes, Bernard has a heart. Honest.)]
Right. Copies of 1984, hot off the press. One for everyone. If you've never read it, do so now and save yourself potential pain/manipulative buggers later. One day, literature may just save your lives, children! Today is that day! Come collect your complimantary photocopy from the library.
No, I don't give a damn about copy-bloody-right.
[Private to Otto]
Trolling report, go. Or just tell me what exactly inspired you to go off on one to Mr O'Brien. There's a pub trip in it for you.
Are these... Potato people yours? Still on with that starch and carbohydrate fetish? Will it be pictures of pasta next week? I take it you're having fun in arts and crafts? Dammit, I counted on you hating it.
[Private to Sveta]
There's a bottle of vodka outside your door. All yours. Better than a cup of tea. Also, a picture of a potato with floppy hair. I have a lot.