Application for Evan Ferguson; "David Blaine's Street Magic"

[effing_eff]

"Holy. Fucking. Shit, David Blaine," a voice squawked incredulously from the Hogwarts floor. He pushed himself off the floor and onto his hands and knees. "Ooh, you made a stone floor hit me in the face! Big woop, David Blaine! Big woop! Yeah, you would need effing demon magic to get me on my knees, bitch!" He then jumped up and started to bounce

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[ostianespionage]

Matthew approached the applicant... who was apparently very upset about someone named David Blaine. "Uh, you might wanna calm down. Just a little?"

[effing_eff]

((I'm assuming Matthew's icon displays his current outfit. If not, let me know, and I'll edit this!))

"Uh, you might wanna not wear a muscle shirt in the middle of winter in effing Scotland. Classay." He then snapped his fingers into a 'z'. Z for zing.

[ostianespionage]

Matthew wasn't entirely sure what a "muscle shirt" was, but it didn't really matter. He shrugged. "It's fine indoors. They've got charms and stuff to keep it from getting too cold. The dungeons get a little drafty sometimes, but hey, that's what they invented cloaks for." He gestured to his own red one. "The whole screaming-at-someone-who-isn't-there thing isn't really the sort of first impression you want to make, though."

[effing_eff]

"Thinking he's not there is exactly what David Blaine wants you to think. Duh!" Evan protested. He then narrowed his eyes. "And why are you so-" He then gasped. "I get it. You're David Blaine in disguise, aren't you? Thinking you can, like, you can hide yourself by looking like a Scottish twink. Well, I'm on to you, David Blaine!"

He pointed accusingly and sneered out, "I'm on to you like Britney Spears on Starbucks." He then gasped again for a different reason and put his hand over his heart. "Oh my God, Britney Spears. I'm so worried about that girl. She's effing lost it."

[ostianespionage]

Matthew stared at Evan. Okay, this guy's a lunatic. "Who the hell is Britney Spears?" he demanded. "Or David Blaine for that matter?"

[effing_eff]

"Oh my gawd." Evan clapped his hand over his eyes. "I totally forgot that I was in effing Scotland. Ok, David Blaine, if that is your real name." It wasn't. "There are things in Ah-Mare-Eek-Ah called TVs. And music. And laughter. And... effing youtube. All these things have come together to lead to Britney Spears' downfall. Like, ok, I'm not like the 'Leave Britney Alone' twink, but trust me, it's all very sad. Ugh, how can I translate this for you?"

Evan thought for a moment. What the hell did Scottish people like, other than throwing logs and eating stomachs? "Ok! Shrek is Scottish, right? Everyone here must looove Shrek. Fine. So imagine someone throwing one of those giant logs straight INTO his head. But he doesn't die. He just staggers around and gets fatter and fatter, and he might one day eat his babies. That's how it's like in Ah-Mare-Eek-Ah."

[ostianespionage]

Matthew sighed. "Hate to break it to you, but I'm not from around here. You've probably never heard of where I'm from. And my name isn't David Blaine. I never said my name was David Blaine. My name is Matthew. I asked who this Britney person was, not what you were giving yourself seizures about."

[effing_eff]

"And I was telling you who Britney Spears is. Duh. I even gave you, like, an effing analogy." Evan rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand. "But obviously if you don't know who Britney Spear is, we don't speak the same language anyways."

[ostianespionage]

"No..." Matthew said in a slow-voice-for-the-hard-of-thinking. "You were telling me... I'm not really sure what you were telling me, actually, but I think it was something that happened to Britney Spears, not who she is."

[effing_eff]

"Britney is a celebrity. She is whatever happens to her." Oh my God, that was SO clever. He should totally get a blog.

[ostianespionage]

"Sounds like a rotten way to live to me. But if she wants to define herself like that, it's none of my business."

[effing_eff]

"She is your business, that's the entire point-" Evan let out a put-upon sigh. Whatever. He didn't have to go around educating foreigners, he wasn't Mother effing Theresa. "Look. The fact that you're not Scottish, but choose to reside in Scotland is even worse. Can I, like, help you with something?"

Matthew wore a muscle shirt, didn't know who Britney Spears is, and resided in Scotland by choice. Three strikes; he was off the list.

[ostianespionage]

"I didn't know this place was in Scotland when I signed up," Matthew countered. "What's the problem with Scotland, anyway?" The thief tried to think of a tactful way to ask whether the other man was crazy. None sprang to mind.

[effing_eff]

Evan gave him a withering glance. "Ok, you've been here yourself since..." His eyes traveled up and down Matt's form. "...since the last time capes were fashionably acceptable, so I'm guessing 1887? And you still don't see a problem?"

He waved his hands. "Sorry, no way I can help you. You have been assimilated." He pinched his fingers together and mimicked the gesture of closing a zip-lock bag. Yeah, I dunno.

[ostianespionage]

"2006, actually," Matthew corrected. "At least, here. There's this whole other-worlds thing this place has going on; where I'm from it was about 1003 on the local calendar - I don't quite remember, I've been here for a year and a few months. And Elibe's stuck in what they call the Middle Ages here."

What the hell is that gesture supposed to mean? he wondered. "So, yeah. They haven't even invented sticky tape where I'm from, so draw your own conclusions."

[effing_eff]

"Oh my God," Evan whispered. He stared at Matthew as a new brotherhood formed between him. He reached outwards. "David Blaine got to you too."