010 - text, strikes are deleted text and unreadable

[cauchemal]

If this is not a dream I cannot imagine what is; it's a classic nightmare scenario

I am in the office of one Malorie Clapet, associate professor of psychology at [text garbled] College. There is an ID badge here with my photograph on it, a pile of essays to be marked, and notes for a lecture that I am apparently meant to give this afternoon.

I

Comments

[FRENCH]

[deathmerciful]

Clapet? That name is on my Passport. Who is this? I know no Malorie from the barge.

[FRENCH]

[cauchemal]

I go by Mal. Who are you?

[FRENCH]

[deathmerciful]

Louis de Pointe du Lac, but according to this passport [He found in his very tight pants] Louis Clapet. Working Visa.

This was supposed to be a port... ah... gods Claudia. Have you seen a small girl, with golden curls?

[FRENCH]

[cauchemal]

It seems we have been handed roles like actors in a play.

I'm afraid I have not seen any girl of that description. I'm in an office, at a small college.

[FRENCH]

[deathmerciful]

I am no actor. [Permanent :|] For one thing, this mortal seems to have forgotton to pack any sensible clothes for the winter. And you are in an office, no? That does not seem so unreasonable, I suppose.

[FRENCH]

[cauchemal]

Nor I. At least whatever it is I do here, it is close to the field I studied myself.

Where are you?

Re: [FRENCH]

[deathmerciful]

An apartment [Tony's]. I am not sure what occupation I have... let us see.

[There's a brief pause as Louis flicks through this person's wallet and is aghast to find several business cards of a variety of skills]

It seems I am an exchange [Nope no student ID] person, who functions as the neighborhood everyman. Pool cleaner. Gardener. Painter. Wardrobe re-arranger. Alors, I am a vagrant. [He's facepalming now]

Re: [FRENCH]

[cauchemal]

Oh dear. I'm sorry to hear it.

But it seems you are a relation of some kind to my hu Clapet and myself. I shall persuade him to extend some hospitality; it only seems fair.