(no subject)
Things have been keeping a certain small town sheriff busy at home, and the bar hasn't seen much of him lately.
The powers that be, whatever/whomever they are, have decided to rectify this.
And so, when the front door opens, Bill Pardy walks in.
Sort of.
Minus a few feet and about 28 years.
He's halfway dressed for a football game; tugging on his jersey while trying to hang onto his helmet, and hopping every other step to avoid an untied shoelace.
"Momma, I can't find my mouth-guard or my belt!"
Ruffled hair is followed by the rest of his head as he finally gets the jersey on, then stops in his tracks.
Hand tightening on the face-guard of his helmet, he looks around, bewildered.
"Mom..."
[ooc: Have a lil!Bill! Not sure how long he'll be around, but this post is open until it scrolls :D ]
The powers that be, whatever/whomever they are, have decided to rectify this.
And so, when the front door opens, Bill Pardy walks in.
Sort of.
Minus a few feet and about 28 years.
He's halfway dressed for a football game; tugging on his jersey while trying to hang onto his helmet, and hopping every other step to avoid an untied shoelace.
"Momma, I can't find my mouth-guard or my belt!"
Ruffled hair is followed by the rest of his head as he finally gets the jersey on, then stops in his tracks.
Hand tightening on the face-guard of his helmet, he looks around, bewildered.
"Mom..."
[ooc: Have a lil!Bill! Not sure how long he'll be around, but this post is open until it scrolls :D ]