Enter Dr. Bishop
Who: Dr. Walter Bishop and anyone who'd like to join (open)
When: Mid Day
Where: Lobby
What: Walter and Gene check in.
Blue sky. That was unusual, or at least he thought it should be unusual. Walter was under the impression that he usually woke up indoors. He lay on his back staring into a winter blue sky and watched as clouds went by.
“Submandibular, aortic valve, oh-ho and bread pudding!” Lifting an arm, he pointed out each cloud shape with a bit of excitement. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a good bread pudding.” He made this announcement to no one in particular as he normally did and let his hand drop back out to his side.
“Snow?” Walter turned his head to look toward where he felt dampness at the back of his hand. Yes, he was definitely set out in the snow, arms and legs flung out from his body. The doctor cackled and began moving his limbs and head, forming a snow angel. It had been… “At least a day since I’ve done that.” He stood and stepped back to survey his handiwork and nodded that it was an almost perfect shape. Then he noticed a distinct lack of footprints. His front wasn’t layered in snow, he clearly hadn’t been out here long enough that a new snowfall would have covered his arrival.
From behind him came a moo. Walter turned and smiled. “Gene my dear, good to see that you’ve made it too.” There were some hoof prints leading to her from where she had clearly been set in the snow as well. He petted at her and then picked up the rope that was tethered to her and waited. “Peter’s mother used to make bread pudding, always on cold days with snow storms. Walnuts, raisins, and scotch. Good scotch too. She would…” Eventually Gene began moving, leading the chemist through the vastness of snowdrifts.
After a quick hike and a one sided conversation that went from the warm dessert to buttered rum to the chemical composition of Fluothane Walter’s attention was drawn forward to the large building now looming in front of him. “Oh excellent!” he giggled, and tried to pull Gene along with him into the lobby. The cow would not budge. “No, good point, you don’t do well with elevators. Let me see what they’ve got on the ground floor.”
Dr Walter Bishop walked to the desk with an ear-to-ear grin. “Could I get two rooms please?”
When: Mid Day
Where: Lobby
What: Walter and Gene check in.
Blue sky. That was unusual, or at least he thought it should be unusual. Walter was under the impression that he usually woke up indoors. He lay on his back staring into a winter blue sky and watched as clouds went by.
“Submandibular, aortic valve, oh-ho and bread pudding!” Lifting an arm, he pointed out each cloud shape with a bit of excitement. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a good bread pudding.” He made this announcement to no one in particular as he normally did and let his hand drop back out to his side.
“Snow?” Walter turned his head to look toward where he felt dampness at the back of his hand. Yes, he was definitely set out in the snow, arms and legs flung out from his body. The doctor cackled and began moving his limbs and head, forming a snow angel. It had been… “At least a day since I’ve done that.” He stood and stepped back to survey his handiwork and nodded that it was an almost perfect shape. Then he noticed a distinct lack of footprints. His front wasn’t layered in snow, he clearly hadn’t been out here long enough that a new snowfall would have covered his arrival.
From behind him came a moo. Walter turned and smiled. “Gene my dear, good to see that you’ve made it too.” There were some hoof prints leading to her from where she had clearly been set in the snow as well. He petted at her and then picked up the rope that was tethered to her and waited. “Peter’s mother used to make bread pudding, always on cold days with snow storms. Walnuts, raisins, and scotch. Good scotch too. She would…” Eventually Gene began moving, leading the chemist through the vastness of snowdrifts.
After a quick hike and a one sided conversation that went from the warm dessert to buttered rum to the chemical composition of Fluothane Walter’s attention was drawn forward to the large building now looming in front of him. “Oh excellent!” he giggled, and tried to pull Gene along with him into the lobby. The cow would not budge. “No, good point, you don’t do well with elevators. Let me see what they’ve got on the ground floor.”
Dr Walter Bishop walked to the desk with an ear-to-ear grin. “Could I get two rooms please?”