At some point in the evening, the
prom court announcement was made.
After the court dance, the prom continued. Someone managed to
spike the punch, there were still
shadowy corners and the
dance floor was still open to all. The
chaperones were still there to keep an eye on things (and might be indulging in some spiked punch themselves).
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He did return a short while later, however, and set up a cardboard box off in the corner, where he was going to hang out until the dance was over, nursing a bottle of the punch which was concealed in a paper bag.
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"Why do I feel like you should dazzle?"
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"Very good, very good. Dazzle, I can do. I haven't dazzled since 2305, and that was at least a good hundred years ago. Oh! Hold on a moment." He narrowed his eyes and squinted at the coin. "Oh! It's sometime around 2000? Good year, good year. Good food. Good hooch."
He held up the bottle appreciatively. "Want some?"
Crazy timehobo had spoken.
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"The one good thing that's come from this time period, if you ask me. Sure, there's TiVo and there's... Other 2000-ish stuff. But the liquor," and that was said with the horrible drunken slur one might expect from an alcoholic hobo who managed to transcend time and space, "the liquor is worth coming back for."
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He laughed heartily and reached for the bottle back. "Not that you would know that, yet. Right, right, of course right, I shouldn't talk about the future, not right now. I'll talk about the future when I get there, and I'll enjoy the hooch of the past." He held up one hand, now donned in a fingerless glove. "Nineteen-twenty. A good year. Except for that whole prohibition thing. That was stupid. Stupid, stupid."
He was shaking his head sadly. Again.
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"The song? Of course the song. That other thing doesn't exist yet." More laughing. Crazy timehobo laughing. It was kind of scary, but at least he wasn't wearing a dress or hitting on anyone. "Good song, that. I like the 2049 re-release of the song, as covered by Michael Jackson's own disembodied and noseless head better, though."
The future was a fun place, apparently.
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"Hey, do you know anything about babies that may destroy the planet?"
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He was crazy and he was starting to speak with an accent not unlike a Mary Poppins chimney sweep.
Whether this was because he was seriously losing his mind, or because this was the mysterious and powerful way of the Timehobo, the world might never know.
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Don't mind Nathan. He had to take a moment to gnaw on a nickel. To make certain it was real.
Or else he was that hungry. It was very hard to tell with those hobo-types.
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"Are you ... feeling all right?"
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