01 🍎 Pleased to meet you; hope you guessed my name

[sauntervaguelydownwards]

[Video]
[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.

Comments

[orderfromchaos]

Admiral seems more interested in forced kissing and candy canes.

He made us play wacky war games for traditional foods on Thanksgiving, so - kind of a twisted spirit of the law kind of thing.

People might have their own rituals but nobody's going to make you come. Probably.

[sauntervaguelydownwards]

Both of those are at least bearable. [Mostly. Depending on who's kissed.]

Thanks-- this Admiral fellow's a yank?

[orderfromchaos]

I think maybe he's a cloud of sentient gas from Saturn or a very large agglomeration of rubber bands or something, who stole his only pamphlet on human holidays from an American. But yeah, there's a bias.

[sauntervaguelydownwards]

My money's on a flying spaghetti monster with a subscription to Martha Stewart Magazine.

[orderfromchaos]

Talk to Chris, he runs all the interesting pools.

[sauntervaguelydownwards]

Will do. Which one is he?

[orderfromchaos]

He's the one with cyborg legs who cusses a lot.

[sauntervaguelydownwards]

A very succinct description. Thanks.