Play #6 [Action] Can this thing make cold morning-after pizza?

[askurself_wwrd]

[Tim shuffles into the kitchen wearing a pair of jeans that look like he slept in them and a Panthers tee shirt that has the same wrinkled appearance. He opens the fridge and stares inside for a little while. He pulls a bottle of beer out, opens it and resumes his staring into the fridge. After a moment he takes his pants off--yes he's wearing

Comments

[dusty_divinity]

[Congratulations, you've succeeded in grossing out Aziraphale. With a cocked brow and lightly wrinkled nose, he plucked the pants from the floor and gazed at their owner.]

I'll just...er....wash these, then?

[The voice was painfully British, and white wings poked from holes cut into his powder-blue argyle sweater.]

&hearts

[askurself_wwrd]

[He's perversely pleased. Poor Aziraphale]

Huh?

[That's when Tim looks back over his shoulder to see the British...dude]

Shiiiiiiit.

[Space of awkward silence while Tim stares]

No way I drank that much.

[He glances at his beer bottle just to be certain. Nope only about half gone and hey there aren't any empties sitting on the table yet. He takes a long gulp of his beer and looks back]

Huh. Uhm...Laundry Fairy?

Re: &hearts

[dusty_divinity]

[Aziraphale blinked several times and silently wondered whether this manling was mentally impaired in some way that wasn't immediately visible to the naked eye. He squelched the thought when he realized it wasn't a charitable one.]

Beg pardon?

[In pointed protest, Azirphale fluffed his wings a bit wider.]

I am not a....laundry fairy. I am an angel, and I was trying to be helpful.

Re: &hearts

[askurself_wwrd]

[Tim is just staring at him a little open mouthed. Mentally impaired is debatable. There are a great many people in Dillon that would say he was. Charitable or not.]

Seriously...an angel. Like they preach down at church?