something something amusing double entendre about pussy [dante's]

[tendencytostart]

St. John has had a trying day, all right, listeners...readers...whatever, shut up before someone dies. He's been prevented from doing the noble work of drunkening the fine folks of Hell by Pietro, who as far as he was concerned was insane when he worked with him in New York and is also insane now, he's dragged a bathtub across town (with Adam's

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[chovihanni]

Wanda rejects your double entendres, and posits that she has had an equally trying day, St. John, sir. Anyway. She wanders downstairs and goes to sit at the bar, slouching down like a good 19-year-old girl lookin' to get drunk.

"If it's this hot in May," she says, absently, "It's going to be awful in July."

[cordillageddon]

"So we leave the AC on. It's not like we have to worry about the electric bill anymore."

He punctuates this with a Look at St. John. He just helped you drag a bathtub across town in sweltering heat, dude; you are not allowed to make a crack about his religion even if he has left himself completely wide open for it.

...although really, what's he gonna do if you do?

[lovegonetowaste]

Nica, who before coming to Hell had never met a Jewish person in her entire life, is not going to make any of these jokes. Because she is only peripherally aware that you can.

Anyway, she straddles the bar (manfully -- she is clearly dramatically reenacting Nathan Petrelli's meaningful relationship with Bosnia) and lies down on it, closing her eyes.

Stfu, she doesn't need to talk.

[tendencytostart]

Actually, Adam, luckily for you St. John is so self-absorbed he's not even thinking about that right now! "My body temperature is 41 degrees on average. By July if any of you bastards are really my friends you'll shoot me in the fucking face."

GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY HERE, KIDS.

PS after uh...a lot of math in the IRC room, it should be established that St. John does in fact mean degrees Celsius here. Which for this PAINFULLY AMERICAN typist means about 102 degrees Fahrenheit....possibly. Maybe. Hopefully.

[agenteidetiker]

It would seem that not only is today a day for collecting zombie corpses, today is also a day to drive around in the corpse-collecting truck and look for people to harrass while whistling the theme to Scooby Doo. Always with the theme to Scooby Doo.

So yep yep yep, St John. The ghostbusters FEMA agents are coming for YOU.

Agent Dean is driving, as he has decided that this is HIS zombie corpse collecting vehicle, dammit.

[notschizo]

It occurs to Freya that Brendan is kind of like a really tall ten year old sometimes. She opts to keep this observation to herself, just directing Brendan to pull up outside Dante's.

"C'mon. Duty calls." She climbs out of the truck (why does she never get to drive >:/) and pokes her head around the bar door.

[tendencytostart]

"We're closing," says St. John absently, cleaning glasses. They don't...really ever actually close, he just likes wielding the power of With-holding Booze. Little tool.

[agenteidetiker]

That is, in fact, exactly what Brendan is thinking of St John for an entire five seconds. "Uh huh. Sure." He's going to go in anyway, though. Because he is a rude, ten year old boy. With a zombie corpse mobile.