(no subject)
Nick had made a point of finding the bookshelf as soon as Glen had mentioned it, and Scott described its peculiar nature. So far it had given Nick classics that he'd never read because they were too heavy to take on the road with him. It was sort of like the shelf wanted him to finally slow down and take his literary medicine, and Nick was all for that. Presently he was sitting in a chair, reading Tolstoy. If he ever did get back to Boulder, a little War and Peace might be just the thing to have in his arsenal.
Nick was sitting alone, quietly reading, as was his fallback position. What he didn't realize, and probably all for the best, there, was that the jukebox was also weighing in on the island newcomer, and with less charity than the bookshelf. It was playing Pinball Wizard by The Who, at a pretty obnoxious volume, too.
"That deaf, dumb, and blind kid, SURE PLAYS A MEAN PIN-BALL!"
If the next person to walk into the room wasn't a classic rock fan, it was going to be a less fun afternoon for them.
Nick was sitting alone, quietly reading, as was his fallback position. What he didn't realize, and probably all for the best, there, was that the jukebox was also weighing in on the island newcomer, and with less charity than the bookshelf. It was playing Pinball Wizard by The Who, at a pretty obnoxious volume, too.
"That deaf, dumb, and blind kid, SURE PLAYS A MEAN PIN-BALL!"
If the next person to walk into the room wasn't a classic rock fan, it was going to be a less fun afternoon for them.