(no subject)
Behind Bar there is no one. We could say nothing but that's hardly ever true. Can't hardly ever be true when behind Bar is where the Lost and Found box is kept. And well...it holds pretty much any, and every, thing you've ever lost sight of at one point or another.
Today it holds...well, judging by the noise? It's something not all that happy to be held. It's rocking back and forth on its shelf making a terrible racket as it shimmies off its shelf and onto the floor. There's a great thud as it lands on its side followed by the pop of an airtight seal breaking.
That's about the time the redacted cussing begins.
It doesn't really stop until Ida makes her way to her feet, brush herself off, and begins to take in her surroundings.
"Fabulous," she deadpans. "Just exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon. Perfect."
She moves to stomp her way around Bar but only gets as far as the series of cables currently attached to her back allow her to go.
The redacted cussing then picks back up again, pausing only when Ida notices a napkin addressed to her on the bartop. She picks up the aformentioned napkin, reads it, and smiles a very tight smile.
"Oh. No. By all means. Go into sleep mode. That's great. Yeah. You just do that."
She crumples the napkin with such force that small whisps of smoke drift from between her fingers.
"Morons."
Apparently there will be nothing what so ever Happy about this Hour.
Today it holds...well, judging by the noise? It's something not all that happy to be held. It's rocking back and forth on its shelf making a terrible racket as it shimmies off its shelf and onto the floor. There's a great thud as it lands on its side followed by the pop of an airtight seal breaking.
That's about the time the redacted cussing begins.
It doesn't really stop until Ida makes her way to her feet, brush herself off, and begins to take in her surroundings.
"Fabulous," she deadpans. "Just exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon. Perfect."
She moves to stomp her way around Bar but only gets as far as the series of cables currently attached to her back allow her to go.
The redacted cussing then picks back up again, pausing only when Ida notices a napkin addressed to her on the bartop. She picks up the aformentioned napkin, reads it, and smiles a very tight smile.
"Oh. No. By all means. Go into sleep mode. That's great. Yeah. You just do that."
She crumples the napkin with such force that small whisps of smoke drift from between her fingers.
"Morons."
Apparently there will be nothing what so ever Happy about this Hour.