Anthony J. Crowley (
sauntervaguelydownwards) wrote2014-12-13 03:49 pm
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01 🍎 Pleased to meet you; hope you guessed my name
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[It’s a new face, but a transmission that’s been made scores of times. This time the speaker is a dark-haired young man with great cheekbones, wearing sunglasses and a bewildered expression. He’s standing on the deck a healthy distance from the chapel, and when he speaks his voice is British, clipped, and dry.]
All right, when’s the next stop? I want to get off. Getting shanghaied onto Twilight Zone Cruise Lines is bad enough, but the maniacal holiday displays and the church are starting to make me nervous. I am not sitting through a Christmas sermon or anyone’s rendition of “Away in a Manger.”
[Deck/Greenhouse spam]
[Crowley had mostly been blowing hot air on the network; in truth the decorations delight him. They spark up an idea, and as soon as it flashes through his mind it takes hold and he knows he has to do it – it’s too tempting. There are cut trees everywhere, and a Greenhouse.
A smirk grows on his lips.
He wrestles an especially bright small tree through the Greenhouse door, dragging it to a spot directly in front of an array of orchids.] Pretty, hmm? [he asks the plants around him. He enjoys talking to – or rather threatening – greenery.] So shiny and delicate. Enjoy it, take a good look. [He tipped the tree, letting the water from the stand drain out.] Someday, this might be you.
[It’s a new face, but a transmission that’s been made scores of times. This time the speaker is a dark-haired young man with great cheekbones, wearing sunglasses and a bewildered expression. He’s standing on the deck a healthy distance from the chapel, and when he speaks his voice is British, clipped, and dry.]
All right, when’s the next stop? I want to get off. Getting shanghaied onto Twilight Zone Cruise Lines is bad enough, but the maniacal holiday displays and the church are starting to make me nervous. I am not sitting through a Christmas sermon or anyone’s rendition of “Away in a Manger.”
[Deck/Greenhouse spam]
[Crowley had mostly been blowing hot air on the network; in truth the decorations delight him. They spark up an idea, and as soon as it flashes through his mind it takes hold and he knows he has to do it – it’s too tempting. There are cut trees everywhere, and a Greenhouse.
A smirk grows on his lips.
He wrestles an especially bright small tree through the Greenhouse door, dragging it to a spot directly in front of an array of orchids.] Pretty, hmm? [he asks the plants around him. He enjoys talking to – or rather threatening – greenery.] So shiny and delicate. Enjoy it, take a good look. [He tipped the tree, letting the water from the stand drain out.] Someday, this might be you.
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VICTORIAN JOKES
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At least, not until they have done what they wanted with you.
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That sounds sexier than I think you meant.
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You can get off next stop; you'll wake right back up in your cabin when we leave.
Oh, and don't touch any Christmas jumpers. Welcome aboard.
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Or just believe me when I say you will be infected with Holiday Cheer against your will.
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Oh, please don't mention singing. You'll put the idea in someone's head.
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You're right, no more of that. I wouldn't want to inspire it.
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I'm sorry, I ought to have welcomed you aboard. It's not as bad as all that, being an inmate-- dreadful bits, but the good bits make up for it, I find.
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spam; I adore you for this
What are you doing?
spam; thank you for saving the flowers ;;
Just some gardening, some redecoration. These things really ought to stay in here, don't you think?
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They cannot go here. Orchids need their own space.
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He sounds amused at least, chuckling softly.]
Whatever did it do to you?
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It's committed the crime of gaudiness. It deserves to be punished.
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Pretty sure it ain't gonna repeat that mistake.
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But getting off at the next stop wouldn't do you much good. You'll end up right back on when we leave.
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Yes, yes, I've heard. Pocket dimension.
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Something like that, I guess, yeah. This'd be my first experience with one.
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