(no subject)
With all the equipment moved in and set up a few days earlier, Lew was finally in the process of getting all the instruments into the studio. It had been weird at first, clearing out the space formerly used by Shawn and his sidekick as their little play detective agency, but after reminding himself that they hadn't died and had just gone back home, most of the weirdness had subsides.
On his second trip back to the compound, he had hoped to force Hank into lending him a hand, but had found the next best thing. Probably more like eight or ninth best thing, but Fitch was free and possibly one of the neediest fuckers Lew had ever met, so it was win-win. Lew got another set of arms to cut down the trips, and Fitch got to tag along like the eager to please puppy dog he was.
Lew had just set his guitars inside before heading back out to start moving the drum set in next.
"Hey, you ever think about giving drum lessons, too?" Fitch asked, trying to spin one of the drumsticks he had in hand and somehow managing to fling it way off to the side.
"Sure... Lesson one," Lew began, walking over and plucking the second drumstick away from him before he put his own eye out with it or something, "don't do what you just did. It's usually easier to play when you keep a grip on those."
The drums weren't for everybody. Fitch seemed more like a kazoo kinda guy.
[[Lew's studio is north of the market. Tag one, the other or both, just let me know which. st/lt are love, as usual.]]
On his second trip back to the compound, he had hoped to force Hank into lending him a hand, but had found the next best thing. Probably more like eight or ninth best thing, but Fitch was free and possibly one of the neediest fuckers Lew had ever met, so it was win-win. Lew got another set of arms to cut down the trips, and Fitch got to tag along like the eager to please puppy dog he was.
Lew had just set his guitars inside before heading back out to start moving the drum set in next.
"Hey, you ever think about giving drum lessons, too?" Fitch asked, trying to spin one of the drumsticks he had in hand and somehow managing to fling it way off to the side.
"Sure... Lesson one," Lew began, walking over and plucking the second drumstick away from him before he put his own eye out with it or something, "don't do what you just did. It's usually easier to play when you keep a grip on those."
The drums weren't for everybody. Fitch seemed more like a kazoo kinda guy.
[[Lew's studio is north of the market. Tag one, the other or both, just let me know which. st/lt are love, as usual.]]