three--> so sinister, but last night was wild [visual]
Penelope turns on her tablet feed to show her sprawled in a brocaded armchair, her ginormous cat draped over her lap in a manner that might indicate his status as an ex-cat if it weren't for the occasional twitch of his tail and the constant low rumble of purr coming from his general direction. She, for once, isn't smoking, but she is twirling a pair of scissors around her finger in a way that would make her mother very nervous. It looks like she's back to full health! Or at least a vague approximation of that.
"Sup, Crazyville," she announces. "I'm off my meds and feeling fine and fancy-free. Which would be awesome, if our alien overlords didn't abruptly decide to implement an economy while I wasn't looking. Guess it's back to being poor for me, unless I do something insane like opening a shop. So since my cat's spoiled now and acts like a pissy bitch whenever I try to feed him the cheap food, thanks Morgana, I'm gonna do that thing. Not right away, I mean, I need to make enough stuff to fill a shop with, first of all, so if anybody's interested in going into business with me, or working with me when it opens, drop me a line. Money buys Cristal."
There's a pause where Penelope furrows her brow, peering sideways, as if thinking of something, and then leans forward in her chair a bit more, over her cat, who appears not to even notice.
"Look, I know it's been a while, and most of you want to move the fuck on, and I respect that, I mean, fuck knows I'm the first in line on that carnival ride, but I personally am really goddamn impressed by how all of y'all worked together during a really shitty time in which shit was blowing up. I mean that was, at the very least, praiseworthy, if not like, deserving of hookers and blow. So in that vein, I'm gonna throw a party, because all of you deserve it for saving my life and generally being pretty awesome to me. Details to come as I hash them out, but if anybody wants to help me set that shit up, you know, apply within, or whatever."
"Sup, Crazyville," she announces. "I'm off my meds and feeling fine and fancy-free. Which would be awesome, if our alien overlords didn't abruptly decide to implement an economy while I wasn't looking. Guess it's back to being poor for me, unless I do something insane like opening a shop. So since my cat's spoiled now and acts like a pissy bitch whenever I try to feed him the cheap food, thanks Morgana, I'm gonna do that thing. Not right away, I mean, I need to make enough stuff to fill a shop with, first of all, so if anybody's interested in going into business with me, or working with me when it opens, drop me a line. Money buys Cristal."
There's a pause where Penelope furrows her brow, peering sideways, as if thinking of something, and then leans forward in her chair a bit more, over her cat, who appears not to even notice.
"Look, I know it's been a while, and most of you want to move the fuck on, and I respect that, I mean, fuck knows I'm the first in line on that carnival ride, but I personally am really goddamn impressed by how all of y'all worked together during a really shitty time in which shit was blowing up. I mean that was, at the very least, praiseworthy, if not like, deserving of hookers and blow. So in that vein, I'm gonna throw a party, because all of you deserve it for saving my life and generally being pretty awesome to me. Details to come as I hash them out, but if anybody wants to help me set that shit up, you know, apply within, or whatever."