81. porting and letters.
Huh, looks like port's on. Not sure if I'm a fan of this jumper or not, but who gives a damn, it's kinda ridiculous.
To port, and to a BAR. Laura, I'm coming to get you, grab some stuff. Parker, meet us in port. Drag along someone, all good with me.
[Private to Laura]
I am sticking to you like glue. If you so much as think of running off to go solicit some drugs or whatever, there's no bars and general party-in-the-snow atmosphere for you, I'm just bringing you straight back. They're the rules.
Well, Father Christmas (we all know you're the fucking Admiral, y'know. It ain't a big secret. It's like when our Shane and Jamie spent most of their Christmases pretending it wasn't a lie, just for Mandy's sake. Now, I have no fucking clue who we're pretending for this time, because there's no kids around. Maybe we're just pretending for our sanity's sake so it doesn't seem like you control every-fucking-aspect of our lives. I dunno.)
I ain't as suspicious as I was last year, though, because clearly you didn't show any letter to Uhura or whatever. And I ain't had Laura's dumped on my desk or anything. So this kinda works for me.
So, let's see what you're good for, Admiral Clause.
Laura, first off. Give that lass an iPod already. Not her fault she's from the eighties. Talking of which, fill it with cheesy eighties classics. You know the sort. Throw in some nice Christmas ones, too. Wham and suchlike. And a giant box of liqueur chocolates. Like the ones Mimi always gets from Mickey because he totally forgets to buy her anything and has to rush to the shops. Always her favourite present, though. Never figured that one out. Oh! And some really classy cigarettes. You know, the ones which come in different colours.
Parker - that is, um... my Parker. The sweary one. Paintball guns.* And some Chinese food. From the best Chinese place she knows. God, I hope it's grotty and nasty, because that makes the best kinda food and you know it. Everythin' else, I'll sort. For the both of 'em.
Nathan. That feckless kid. Get him something his mum would have got him. Unless she's a fucking bitch, then don't bother. Porn. Of his choice. It might make him back off everyone else. And a text from someone he knows at home.
Neil. Some decent fucking cigarettes aaaaaand a bunch of his favourite films. Because everyone likes fucking films, right? Yeah, course.
Uhura. [erk] Letsee. Hey, she's all about them languages, right? Get her a book on Irish Gaelic. Like, I dunno, some history thing. I ain't much good at this kind of present. Damn her for having a fucking education. Some fancy SPACE BOOZE. SEE WHAT YOU CAN DO. Space booze. She needs to get drunk now and then. Chill out and somesuchshit. And something completely ridiculous. I vote fluffy dressing gown and slippers. Really, insanely, fluffy. Because she will never wear them, and if she does, I will laugh.
Jude. A giant ass pile of those doughnuts I made for Donny and stuff. And a scarf. A giant fucking scarf. Like the Doctor has, but less... shitty.**
For all my kitchen staff. Every single fucking one of them, no matter who they are, or how long they've worked there. One day where all the cooking's done for 'em. Like fucking magic. And a Pot Noodle.
For all of the above: A bottle of their favourite booze. Except Uhura, who's getting space booze.
Finally. Gotta ask, just to see how fucking good you are at this. I'd like the backseat of Mickey's limo. Dump it in my room or something. I just really want that fucking backseat.
Ta muchly,
Paddy Maguire.
*little does he know she's asked for the same.
**sorry, Four.
To port, and to a BAR. Laura, I'm coming to get you, grab some stuff. Parker, meet us in port. Drag along someone, all good with me.
[Private to Laura]
I am sticking to you like glue. If you so much as think of running off to go solicit some drugs or whatever, there's no bars and general party-in-the-snow atmosphere for you, I'm just bringing you straight back. They're the rules.
Well, Father Christmas (we all know you're the fucking Admiral, y'know. It ain't a big secret. It's like when our Shane and Jamie spent most of their Christmases pretending it wasn't a lie, just for Mandy's sake. Now, I have no fucking clue who we're pretending for this time, because there's no kids around. Maybe we're just pretending for our sanity's sake so it doesn't seem like you control every-fucking-aspect of our lives. I dunno.)
I ain't as suspicious as I was last year, though, because clearly you didn't show any letter to Uhura or whatever. And I ain't had Laura's dumped on my desk or anything. So this kinda works for me.
So, let's see what you're good for, Admiral Clause.
Laura, first off. Give that lass an iPod already. Not her fault she's from the eighties. Talking of which, fill it with cheesy eighties classics. You know the sort. Throw in some nice Christmas ones, too. Wham and suchlike. And a giant box of liqueur chocolates. Like the ones Mimi always gets from Mickey because he totally forgets to buy her anything and has to rush to the shops. Always her favourite present, though. Never figured that one out. Oh! And some really classy cigarettes. You know, the ones which come in different colours.
Parker - that is, um... my Parker. The sweary one. Paintball guns.* And some Chinese food. From the best Chinese place she knows. God, I hope it's grotty and nasty, because that makes the best kinda food and you know it. Everythin' else, I'll sort. For the both of 'em.
Nathan. That feckless kid. Get him something his mum would have got him. Unless she's a fucking bitch, then don't bother. Porn. Of his choice. It might make him back off everyone else. And a text from someone he knows at home.
Neil. Some decent fucking cigarettes aaaaaand a bunch of his favourite films. Because everyone likes fucking films, right? Yeah, course.
Uhura. [erk] Letsee. Hey, she's all about them languages, right? Get her a book on Irish Gaelic. Like, I dunno, some history thing. I ain't much good at this kind of present. Damn her for having a fucking education. Some fancy SPACE BOOZE. SEE WHAT YOU CAN DO. Space booze. She needs to get drunk now and then. Chill out and somesuchshit. And something completely ridiculous. I vote fluffy dressing gown and slippers. Really, insanely, fluffy. Because she will never wear them, and if she does, I will laugh.
Jude. A giant ass pile of those doughnuts I made for Donny and stuff. And a scarf. A giant fucking scarf. Like the Doctor has, but less... shitty.**
For all my kitchen staff. Every single fucking one of them, no matter who they are, or how long they've worked there. One day where all the cooking's done for 'em. Like fucking magic. And a Pot Noodle.
For all of the above: A bottle of their favourite booze. Except Uhura, who's getting space booze.
Finally. Gotta ask, just to see how fucking good you are at this. I'd like the backseat of Mickey's limo. Dump it in my room or something. I just really want that fucking backseat.
Ta muchly,
Paddy Maguire.
*little does he know she's asked for the same.
**sorry, Four.