(Untitled)

[dingdongdoodily]

When they walked in, it was quite a bit more clean than when Miniver first saw it. Lord only knows how Pickle had the time, but all the clutter that had been scattered all throughout the house had been taken away

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[dingdongdoodily]

"Cooking. I'm no good at it, you seem pretty decent. Maybe I'll take a cookin' course one'a these days, but I don't effin' know. A man can't live off of delivery alone. But then again, we've got a door to the best restaurant in existence, so I ain't gunna argue if you just wanna eat there." He shrugged.

"Bills are automatically paid through my company, so really, the only thing that I could think of is if you wanna get a job or somethin' to keep yerself busy. I'll talk to a couple people and get some papers fer you, y'know, statin' that you, in fact, exist."

[cheevy]

"I like existence. Okay. I can do breakfast whenever you want. I could try other stuff too. If we can find a cookbook someplace, that shouldn't be too hard."

He tosses his legs up over Pickles' lap and flops back on the sofa. "A job sorta thing might be good. I mean... I'd kinda like to help you out, unless you think you'll get sick of looking at me if I'm always tagging around trying to make you keep your shit together."

[dingdongdoodily]

He smirked, "Been doin' it pretty well on my own fer nearly ten years, babe, but hey, if you want, I can see if I can get you into the business, behind the scenes somewhere."

He paused, and probably due to the conversation he had with Marlowe last night, he thought of something entirely interesting.

"How do you feel about Theater, Cheev?"

[cheevy]

"I guess it's pretty cool. It's not something I ever had much opportunity to be part of, is the thing. Darren had mentioned something before he all up and fluttered off, flighty bastard, and actually not too long after I first got here, I was going to have a job with a filmmaker fellow called Mark. Then HE disappeared, too." Miniver wrinkles his nose. A number of people have up and poofed out of his like that way. He can't say it's something he doesn't look back on with annoyance.

[dingdongdoodily]

Pickles leaned over and ruffled Miniver's hair, "Well how about we find you a job in the theaters here? A lot of the stuff pretty much never has changed, with the exception of the sound systems. Pretty sure you could manage somethin' like lights or costumes though."

Beat.

"Well, maybe not the costumes. But we could see, hm?" He grinned. "It'll feel good for you once you get your feet under you again. And this time, there ain't pressure to do it, and you won't have to go hungry." He stretched out, putting his feet on the coffee table.

"There's only one more thing I can think of." He muttered, rubbing his beard in thought.