Application for Evan Ferguson; "David Blaine's Street Magic"

[effing_eff]

"Holy. Fucking. Shit, David Blaine," a voice squawked incredulously from the Hogwarts floor. He pushed himself off the floor and onto his hands and knees. "Ooh, you made a stone floor hit me in the face! Big woop, David Blaine! Big woop! Yeah, you would need effing demon magic to get me on my knees, bitch!" He then jumped up and started to bounce

Comments

[nicknamegirl]

Wow. Okay. This guy needed to seriously chill. Maybe have a nice cup of tea. Lola waited a while, at least until he'd stopped spitting orange soda and screaming to someone she couldn't see, and then she approached him, carefully.

"Hey," she said gently. "Uh. Would you like to sit down? I could ask someone to bring you something nice and hot to drink if you like. You kinda look like you need it."

[effing_eff]

Evan, meanwhile was on his hands and knees on the table. He peered over the top at his t-shirt which was crumpled on the ground, judging whether or not David Blaine was far enough away for him to take back his offer and put his shirt on. It was almost $50.00!

He jumped at Lola approached, and narrowed his eyes. "Who are you!? His hottie assistant chick?" He stood up to his knees and wiggled his fingers. 'Ooh, look at me. I'm David Blaine! I saw women in half and throw daggers at them. Pick a card.' Well let me tell you something, Missy. Evil is evil, but good people standing by doing nothing is eviler."

He nodded solemnly. "I think Spock said that. Who's a doctor, by the way! And he was talking about the Nazis." Evan nodded. Mhmn.

[nicknamegirl]

Oookay. Just smile and speak softly to the crazy, Lollie.

"Ah. No, I'm no one's assistant. No one is sawing me in half. I'm just Lola." She blinked. "Who's David Blaine?" And hey! Angel standing right here! Angels were good by default! Not that she was planning on telling Evan about the angel gig, but still. She gave him a bright smile, because that usually worked wonders. And also, there'd been a compliment hiding in there somewhere.

Lola didn't know who Spock was, being from 22nd century South America, but at least he wasn't shouting about David Blaine. Which was an improvement. "I'm serious about the tea, babe," she said and tilted her head. "It does wonders, really. And the House-elves usually don't mind bringing it."

[effing_eff]

Who's David Blaine!? "Who's David Blaine!?" He looked at Lola as if he was appalled. "What the eff!? How can you not know this? Oh my GOD, have you been living in, like, a freaking water chamber for the last two years? It's David effing Blaine. He's a demon, he has magic, and he, like, dropped a car on my friend and keeps shrinking his hat."

Evan twiddled his fingers at his temples. "He's crazy and he sent me back in time! What ever you do, if you see him? Do NOT pull out a card. Or his finger. That's just raunchy."

[carriesapurse]

It was at this unfortunate moment that Tinky Winky galloped into the Sorting Room, full of vim and vigor.

"Eh-oh!!!!" he greeted Evan.

[effing_eff]

"Oh, hell to the no!" Evan yelped as Tinky Winky entered the sorting room. Great, just effing great. There were totally still dinosaurs in the middle ages. He knew it! They just walked on two feet and had a creepy-ass human face instead of snappers.

Oh my God.

What if this purple thing was the missing link in the evolution from dinosaurs to humans!? If Evan killed it, he could wipe out the human race. That's way worse than becoming his own grandfather!

He continued to stand on the table, but he pulled up the chair to use as a potential weapon. "Get back, you creepy dino-dickwad! Back!"

[carriesapurse]

Tinky Winky didn't know what 'dickwad' meant. It was probably a term of endearment!

"Fwiend! Tinky Winky dickwad!" he agreed happily, and skipped toward the table where Evan, like a lion tamer, brandished a chair.

[effing_eff]

"Stay away from me!" Evan squealed, and threw the wooden chair at Tinky Winky's direction. Oh god, oh effing fuck, it was coming closer! Did it have claws? Evan wanted to know if it had claws. Or if it spit out burning oil or that crap.

And oh my GOD, it was calling him a tinky winky dickwad. It was angry! And probably threatening his masculinity! "I'm just as man as you are, you purple dickless bitch!" Evan yelled as he scrambled off the table to run away.

[ostianespionage]

Matthew approached the applicant... who was apparently very upset about someone named David Blaine. "Uh, you might wanna calm down. Just a little?"

[effing_eff]

((I'm assuming Matthew's icon displays his current outfit. If not, let me know, and I'll edit this!))

"Uh, you might wanna not wear a muscle shirt in the middle of winter in effing Scotland. Classay." He then snapped his fingers into a 'z'. Z for zing.

[ostianespionage]

Matthew wasn't entirely sure what a "muscle shirt" was, but it didn't really matter. He shrugged. "It's fine indoors. They've got charms and stuff to keep it from getting too cold. The dungeons get a little drafty sometimes, but hey, that's what they invented cloaks for." He gestured to his own red one. "The whole screaming-at-someone-who-isn't-there thing isn't really the sort of first impression you want to make, though."

[effing_eff]

"Thinking he's not there is exactly what David Blaine wants you to think. Duh!" Evan protested. He then narrowed his eyes. "And why are you so-" He then gasped. "I get it. You're David Blaine in disguise, aren't you? Thinking you can, like, you can hide yourself by looking like a Scottish twink. Well, I'm on to you, David Blaine!"

He pointed accusingly and sneered out, "I'm on to you like Britney Spears on Starbucks." He then gasped again for a different reason and put his hand over his heart. "Oh my God, Britney Spears. I'm so worried about that girl. She's effing lost it."

[sponge_girl_x]

"...David Blaine. Like, the magician guy?"

[effing_eff]

"David Blaine, the magician guy. David Blaine, the psychotic guy. David Blaine, the criminal guy. David Blaine, the effing demon guy! He stuck me in dinosaur times for, like, almost a week. I had to eat berries. And you know what? He's a murderer. He killed Babe!"

He nodded. "Babe's dead because of him. And I'm a vegetarian. And now? He sent me to Scotland! I bet they're having a civil war and shit!" He sighed and raised both his hands. "Criss Angel did it better, that's all I have to say. Criss Angel did it better."

Evan looked around. "And I think he might have made all the Scottish people disappear."

[sponge_girl_x]

...wow, this guy really didn't like David Blaine. "I always thought it was plants and camera tricks," she said. "Or else he's a mutant, but I never heard anyone say he was for sure. Nah, there ain't a civil war here, an' there's plenty of Scottish people outside the school. Just... y'know, calm down some."

[effing_eff]

No, David Blaine had not greatly endeared himself to Evan Ferguson. "Yeah, I thought so too. Until, like, he changed my effing driver's license to read five foot ace of clubs. Sending someone back in time is bad, but making them wait in the DMV? That's effing evil. A more easy way to make time stand still, am I right?" He cocked a hip. Yeah, he was right.

"Oh my God, don't talk to me about mutants. There was, like, a mutant retard dinosaur just now. He was purple and I don't even- Just don't get me started." He rolled his eyes and looked greatly put upon.

[iam_beowulf]

Beowulf regarded the man's bribe with scorn.

"THAT SHIRT WOULD NOT FIT A MAN," he rumbled.

It was possible no shirt would fit Beowulf. Certainly he wasn't wearing one.

[effing_eff]

Evan had put his shirt back on at this point (his nipples had grown cold), and was doing his best to pull out the wrinkles. He scoffed at Beowulf's comment. "I'm not a 250 pound Scottish gym bunny, so it fits me just fine. And besides you can't have it anyway." He put a hand on his hip and declared, "It's not for you."

He then tilted his head. "Geeze, did you, like, spray on before you came trotting over here?"