Cleaning out Cartman's lair
Why?
Seriously, why? Why is it somehow up to Rachel to go through this freakshow collection? She'll admit it, she was a little sad when she heard that crazy Eric kid was gone. He was definitely an enormous psychopath, but that really only endeared him to Rachel even more. It pretty quickly became obvious that it was going to be up to her to empty his freaky room out. But my God. She was not prepared. Not at all. For one thing she's really quite certain that those are her bras that have been fashioned into catapults and the sheer amount of what has to be stolen goods is boggling. And the weird dolls, the monkey skull, the.....wig. God, the outfits. The Hitler book. She was not. prepared.
She's hauled everything out into the hallway piece by piece, hoping passersby will recognize their shit and take it off her hands. And the cat. It's not the cat's fault it had Jezebel as a mother and Eric as an owner. Plus Raylan might actually kill her if she brings another cat home. The last thing to go out is an armload of Mel Gibson photos. Magazine cutouts, lovingly clipped and preserved and stacked into a neat little pile. The only sweet thing is that little stuffed frog he'd carry around. It's almost...almost sweet enough to cancel out the headless baby doll. But not quite.
She wipes sweat off her face with the Catholic school girl skirt she finds and rests her hands on her hips as she tries to decide where to go from here. Little freak.
[ooc: Rachel has cleaned out Cartman's stuff from his room. Feel free to find stolen goods, creepy shit, etc.]
Seriously, why? Why is it somehow up to Rachel to go through this freakshow collection? She'll admit it, she was a little sad when she heard that crazy Eric kid was gone. He was definitely an enormous psychopath, but that really only endeared him to Rachel even more. It pretty quickly became obvious that it was going to be up to her to empty his freaky room out. But my God. She was not prepared. Not at all. For one thing she's really quite certain that those are her bras that have been fashioned into catapults and the sheer amount of what has to be stolen goods is boggling. And the weird dolls, the monkey skull, the.....wig. God, the outfits. The Hitler book. She was not. prepared.
She's hauled everything out into the hallway piece by piece, hoping passersby will recognize their shit and take it off her hands. And the cat. It's not the cat's fault it had Jezebel as a mother and Eric as an owner. Plus Raylan might actually kill her if she brings another cat home. The last thing to go out is an armload of Mel Gibson photos. Magazine cutouts, lovingly clipped and preserved and stacked into a neat little pile. The only sweet thing is that little stuffed frog he'd carry around. It's almost...almost sweet enough to cancel out the headless baby doll. But not quite.
She wipes sweat off her face with the Catholic school girl skirt she finds and rests her hands on her hips as she tries to decide where to go from here. Little freak.
[ooc: Rachel has cleaned out Cartman's stuff from his room. Feel free to find stolen goods, creepy shit, etc.]