033. Royal Orleans

[icarustattoo.livejournal.com]

[People can build bonfires and burn effigies all they want -- some guys (lowercase G) have work to do!

One of whom is Brock. He has work to do.

That work is, of course, patching up the huge fuckoff hole in the side of his dumb cabin. He is out in the woods right now, though he's more staring at the huge fuckoff hole than doing any sort of repair. How does one even fix a hole in a log cabin. Does he need to knock down the whole wall ...

Making a frustrated noise, he flips his journal open.]

I lost my lumberjack. Does anyone cut down trees for fun, or do I have to go find an axe?

-- and Crowley. I hope you got a steering lock for your goddamn car.

Comments

[icarustattoo.livejournal.com]

[Well, Brock is allowing him to do that! Shut up, woman, it's not your cabin.]

I ... there's no bears around here to kill. I don't think so, anyway. So ... uh, I guess you could wish one up?

[molotov]

A rug or a bear?

[Molotov doesn't look unhappy with either of those options.]

[icarustattoo.livejournal.com]

Uh. A rug ...

[He's not killing, skinning, and tanning a bear for you, lady! You complain he doesn't spend enough time with you as it is.]

[molotov]

[But, unlike building a cabin, killing/skinning/tanning a bear is something Molotov would like to watch Brock do!]

This works.

[icarustattoo.livejournal.com]

[Well, too bad! Missed your chance, lady.]

Alright.

[Waiting ... she'd better wish for it because he's not going to ...]

[molotov]

[Molotov looks confused by his waiting. Why would she wish for the rug now? The cabin is missing a wall!]

What?

[icarustattoo.livejournal.com]

[Oh ...]

Nothing. I'll let you know when it's fixed, I guess.

[molotov]

[Molotov smiles.]

Da. Now apologize to me for your rudeness, and you can return to wasting this time.

[icarustattoo.livejournal.com]

[Flatly] I'm sorry for being rude, Molotov.

[molotov]

[And the grenade finally goes away.

Molotov smiles wider and moves closer to him, to place her hand on his face.]

Good boy. See you tonight?

[icarustattoo.livejournal.com]

[Yes ... good ...

Brock pauses to touch her hand on his face.]

Sure thing, honey.

[molotov]

[Pleased, Molotov takes her hand away and blows him a kiss.]

I am going to go agility train.

[Which she apparently intends to do by climbing the nearest tree and taking off into the forest. Via the trees. Brock Samson, this is your girlfriend.]