[ Have a bored Confederate. A very bored one that'd welcome some company. Any company, even. It's not as if he's something important to be doing around HQ anyway. ]
Have a bored Canadian. A bored larger-than-normal Canadian who has a cup of Tim Horton's in one hand and a headache the size of the Yukon. He will grunt at you.
"Could make yourself useful for once and bring aspirin," he tells you flatly. He would have no idea what a Confederate is. In his world, when he took Alfred over, it sort of superseded a Civil War.
But at the moment, he just wants pills. Yeah, maybe he's a day late to your post, but he was drinking, okay?
Aaron may just have gone and gotten the aspirin for Canada, except for the fact he has a bit of a issue with the way the other demanded it. He crosses his legs as he leans back in his chair, making it obvious he was making no move to get up.
Oh, god damn it, seriously. He presses a hand to his head. "Uni I swear on Lord Stanley that if you don't get me some damn aspirin there's going to be a recreation of 1812 in Detroit."
No, he doesn't know who you are. Yeah, your accent is a little strange, but you southerners always had a bit of a strange twang. Always saying your "-ous" as "-ows." Howse. Ugh. God. His head. It's like the north is being strip mined.
And then he clears his throat. "Please," he stipulates at the end, because it wouldn't do to be totally rude.
Aaron raises a brow, giving Canada a bemused look as he listens. "Excuse me? Who is Uni, who is Lord Stanley, and what does Detroit have ta do with me? That's a northern city. If yer gonna threaten me, at least have enough sense to go south of tha Mason-Dixon."
Nope, still not getting up. Try a little harder, Matty.
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"Could make yourself useful for once and bring aspirin," he tells you flatly. He would have no idea what a Confederate is. In his world, when he took Alfred over, it sort of superseded a Civil War.
But at the moment, he just wants pills. Yeah, maybe he's a day late to your post, but he was drinking, okay?
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"Perhaps if you were ta ask politely."
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No, he doesn't know who you are. Yeah, your accent is a little strange, but you southerners always had a bit of a strange twang. Always saying your "-ous" as "-ows." Howse. Ugh. God. His head. It's like the north is being strip mined.
And then he clears his throat. "Please," he stipulates at the end, because it wouldn't do to be totally rude.
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Nope, still not getting up. Try a little harder, Matty.
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Excuse me, mister? Have you seen Mister Ludwig?
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I haven' seen anyone, honestly...anythang I can help you with?
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When was tha last time you saw him?
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