(no subject)
[oom: Finding their way.]
Guppy comes in through the front door, placing a small red bag on the bar as he gets in. He orders tea and opens the bag.
"Right, let's see what you've brought home." he says to himself, opening the bag and pulling out... "A lovely picture made of... pasta..."
He picks it up to see if it'll hang on a wall, and stares in dismay as twenty pieces of dried pasta with paint blobs on fall straight off onto the bar and the floor.
"Dammit... knowing him he'll notice." He starts scrabbling for the bits and trying to remember where they were approximately.
Guppy comes in through the front door, placing a small red bag on the bar as he gets in. He orders tea and opens the bag.
"Right, let's see what you've brought home." he says to himself, opening the bag and pulling out... "A lovely picture made of... pasta..."
He picks it up to see if it'll hang on a wall, and stares in dismay as twenty pieces of dried pasta with paint blobs on fall straight off onto the bar and the floor.
"Dammit... knowing him he'll notice." He starts scrabbling for the bits and trying to remember where they were approximately.