Lawn in Front of Oviatt Library, CSUN Campus, Early Sunday Evening
Look, when you lived with the kind of people Anders did, it got really, really hard after a while to assume random weird occurrences were completely mundane, much less shrug them off and go on with your day.
And when there'd been a cow wandering around the campus all day uttering such plaintive phrases as "Please don't eat me" and "I don't want to be your dinner," well, what else was he supposed to assume?
Obviously, he had not assumed the cow would just be wearing a speaker cleverly disguised as a cowbell. But the cow was gone now, hauled off by campus security, and he was left holding a recording device that really sounded extra creepy now that the batteries were winding down and "I don't want to be your dinner" came out very, very slowly, like a deranged Speak'n'Spell. Obviously, he had assumed wrong, and Anders felt pretty stupid standing there, holding that faux-cowbell while one of the guys he played basketball with clapped him on the shoulder and snickered.
"Gotta hand it to the campus vegan group, man. They pulled off a good one this time, huh?"
Anders muttered something intelligible, slapped the faux-cowbell into the guy's hand, and stalked off, carefully avoiding cow droppings on his way across the lawn.
Mundane life was so much more of a headache.
[OOC: I blame divinesurfchick for this one.]
And when there'd been a cow wandering around the campus all day uttering such plaintive phrases as "Please don't eat me" and "I don't want to be your dinner," well, what else was he supposed to assume?
Obviously, he had not assumed the cow would just be wearing a speaker cleverly disguised as a cowbell. But the cow was gone now, hauled off by campus security, and he was left holding a recording device that really sounded extra creepy now that the batteries were winding down and "I don't want to be your dinner" came out very, very slowly, like a deranged Speak'n'Spell. Obviously, he had assumed wrong, and Anders felt pretty stupid standing there, holding that faux-cowbell while one of the guys he played basketball with clapped him on the shoulder and snickered.
"Gotta hand it to the campus vegan group, man. They pulled off a good one this time, huh?"
Anders muttered something intelligible, slapped the faux-cowbell into the guy's hand, and stalked off, carefully avoiding cow droppings on his way across the lawn.
Mundane life was so much more of a headache.
[OOC: I blame divinesurfchick for this one.]