The Imperial Junke Yard, Saturday morning

[intotheout]

Tip had been going out for donuts, but then she ran into the Chief on the way, and after a little bit of her denying that he was anything more than a particularly vivid figment of her imagination, the donut run had turned into a "show the Chief everything about Fandom" run

Comments

[worstufoever]

The Chief rubbed his head, then bent low to examine a particularly intergalactic looking piece of space junk. "And lights and music," he said. "If they want to impress the UFO nuts in Roswell." He straightened up and smiled faintly. "For a junkyard, though, I'd say this place is doing just fine."

[intotheout]

"Oh come on," Tip said. "It doesn't even have a bathhenge."

[worstufoever]

"If every junkyard had a bathhenge," the Chief said philosophically, "it wouldn't be special anymore." He looked tip over consideringly. "You're growing up good, Stupidlegs. But I thought you were going to look after my dog for me."

[intotheout]

"Mom's got him," Tip promised. "He's a little big to fit in the dorms."

[worstufoever]

"You left my dog to be taken care of by a white lady?"

[intotheout]

"And J.Lo."

[worstufoever]

"Well. So long as J.Lo's there."