Eighty First Song

[mysticalvender]

Okay, note to me: locking myself in the soundproof basement of Caritas works. No migraines or disturbing knowledge of everyone's lives. Which, I gotta say? Kinda depressing.

So, what'd I miss? Is anyone dead?

[[ooc: Backdated to before the weddingy wedding]]

Comments

[spongetastic]

I managed to avoid it again. ..But some of them were nice.

[mysticalvender]

I can believe it, Pete. I'm just glad to have a year where my brain isn't threatening to bleed out of my ears.

[spongetastic]

None of us would want that to happen.

[mysticalvender]

If it did, I want a fancy funeral. Jazz singers, whole orchestra, the works.

[spongetastic]

Let's... not think about it, okay?

[mysticalvender]

You okay, Pete? Bad singing day?

[spongetastic]

Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry.

[mysticalvender]

And that line's worked on me how many times before?

[spongetastic]

My guess would be zero, but it was worth a shot.

[mysticalvender]

Congrats! You win the star prize.