Word to the wise*: do not give a megaphone to someone like HH. Some people will shout “Poo!”, or scream “F**K!”, or go into a rant about politics or preach gospel, or say something remarkably enlightening that would bring a tear even to the eye of a serial kitten stomper**.

HH, as I have just found out, shouts “I’M BATMAN!”, thus making him a prime target for anyone wearing an owl mask and a suit. I somehow managed to find the last word on what there is to dislike about the term “smartarse”, so I really hope he avoids straying into the damn strigimorphea*** section…

On the other hand, the blue box is where we left it. I did expect it to panic, honestly, and rush to HH’s location like a scared dog the moment things got loud. I don’t know why it hasn’t, but I’m glad it didn’t. Otherwise I’d be f- oh there you are.

Wait. Why is he here?

You wrecked his…and? I…well, I don’t know where to begin…but you did a good thing. Don’t give me that Look****, I’m serious. I…well, he…oh…screw it.

The thing about living is knowing when to merely survive. Just occasionally, this kind of truth punches you in the stomach and leers over the top. And unfortunately, I rather need this blue box and its pilot more than I need to send the captain into smartarse hell…damnit.

Alas, the only thing you can do in such situations is sulk.

Some would prefer to call it “isolated contemplation on the nature of unreasonable idiocy”, but it comes down to more or less the same thing: a slamming of the door, a glare*****, a stifled curse, and an unprecedented interest in doing anything that doesn’t involve other people for the next three hours…

I got through the first three steps fine…not so much the fourth one, though. That bit seems illogical. Pointless, even.

This one isn’t about us.


*And, following that, the stupid and moderately intelligent too.

**None of whom exist, thankfully. Not any more.

***The branch of avian genetics that defines owls, & their closest relatives, from everything else…ironically, only a real smartarse would make that sort of connection in the first place…

****The Look that says “Are you sure you’re not mistakenly using that part of the brain that rationalizes eating fast food as a matter of pure convenience?”

*****Ranging from a simple “you idiot” to the “I hope you step on a random plug every day for the rest of your horrible life”


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