*kicks things*

[fahye]

Due to overwhelming demand we regret to advise that the Tori Amos concert at Canberra Theatre Centre has been moved to the Sydney Opera House on Saturday 14 May at 8pm.

NOT IMPRESSED, WORLD. NOT IMPRESSED AT ALL.

I slept for 12 hours last night. My body knows it is holidays. Je gagne à la vie, except for that part where I was meant to mark many many papers today and I didn't.

Also: writing Thom's part of the Millific when dead of brain produces some interesting things. Feverdreams = crack, though sadly sans l'ananas as yet:

(“Are you breaking up with me?” he asks. Incredulous. Nobody breaks up with him! He’s perfect.

“I’m sorry,” Anthy says sadly. “You only love me for my pants.”

Thom feels that this would be a bad time to point out that she isn’t wearing pants.

Especially because she is.)

ETA: PLZ HELP I AM TRAPPED INNA CRACKTHREAD. A CRACKTHREAD OF LOVE. WHAT HAVE WE DONE. I WEEP FOR MY POOR JOURNAL.

*loves on schiarire, shati and villainny*

*goes away to die of lobstrosities random*

Comments

[shati.livejournal.com]

*staaaaaares*

...

The first thing I thought was, "Hah, Anthy wears skirts."

*cries at own brain and your brain both*

[fahye.livejournal.com]

*weeps for our immortal souls*

[armin-isaac.livejournal.com]

... bugger, I was going to give you those Reg threads, wasn't I. Um.

*goes off to find them*

[armin-isaac.livejournal.com]

also OH CRACK HOW WE LOVE THEE.

[schiarire.livejournal.com]

I cannot work up a dialogue somehow but I will leave you this image:

Hob . . .

The 50s Hausfrau.

Thank you. And good night.

[schiarire.livejournal.com]

I lied!

- - - - - - -

"But your nose is so red," Lucifer said, sounding quite reasonable.

Hob's nose was indeed very red.

"And your eyes are so sad."

Hob's eyes were very sad.

"And your feet are so big."

Hob's feet were very big. He began to cry. "You don't love me anymore," he sobbed, "because my nose is too red, and my eyes are too sad, and my feet are too big."

"I'm sorry," said Lucifer, not sounding sorry at all. "But I don't date clowns."

Fin.

[grimy-brian.livejournal.com]

Hob walked away slowly. He had to, because otherwise he tripped on his too-big feet, and squashed his too-red nose, thus increasing the sadness in his already terribly sad eyes.

"Is there no one to love me?" He wondered, sadly, to himself.

And then, in his ear, a friendly little voice sounded.

"Hhhhallo..."

Dorsal Fin.

[schiarire.livejournal.com]

"Oh no," said Hob, "mother always said not to talk to strangers."

"Manuel is no' a stranger."

"But I just met you," Hob said.

"No," said Manuel, "Manuel has come from have sex with your family."

"Oh."

Fin[e] Dining.

[grimy-brian.livejournal.com]

"It's been a long time since I've had one of those," said Hob, and his eyes overflowed, sending a combination of salt water and vitreous humour (which is like slapstick humour only tastier like sunshine dust} down his cheeks.

"Is so sad," said Manuel. He made his sad face, especially to show Hob. "But do not fret, little one. You hhhave a pretty face. Is shame to see it so sad. Perhhhaps you need more makeup to go with your red nose? You could be a mime."

[schiarire.livejournal.com]

Hob sniffled, sad eyes widening with the lustrous shine of hope. "Is that what you really think, Manuel?"

Manuel nodded seriously. "Is what Manuel really thinks. Mimeship is wonderful career. You will make everybody to smile."

And Manuel smiled for Hob.

"Gosh," said Hob. "I like to make people smile. Everyone should be happy. That would be a good world."

"Yes. Do you know why?"

"No," said Hob, "why?"

So Manuel explained for him, and it made perfect sense. "Because love makes the world go 'round, and if the world does not go 'round and everyone is sad then they cry like you and is no good for business.

"Or family."

[shati.livejournal.com]

"H-hello," said Hob. "I like rusty spoons. I like to touch them."

Thom stared at him.

Hob leaned forward. "Might I enquire . . . where you keep the spoooooons?"

Thom's head rose from his body, and he made a strange creaky-screamy-croaky noise.

"I see," said Hob.

[grimy-brian.livejournal.com]

"Then I must leave," said Hob. "But first I must caress your twin sister. HHHALLO! MY NAME IS HHHOB! I COME TO HHHAVE SEX WITH YOUR FAMILY!"

Thom's hhhead rose off his shoulders and span around and around and around.

[shati.livejournal.com]

Lucifer sidles over and glared at them with his giant bulging eye. Above it his head looked like a pile of cream cheese.

He said something.

"What?" said Hob.

Lucifer sidled nearer, sideways like a giant lobstrosity of sexuality. He said something again. It sounded like no language Hob had ever heard.

Thom blinked, one eye at a time.

Lucifer said something, and then held a carrot out.

"I love taps," Hob announced, and followed the carrot . . .

[grimy-brian.livejournal.com]

Hob was unable to resist Lucifer's wiles. He followed the tap, arms outstretched, humming 'somewhere over the rainbow' happily under his breath.

Thom watched them go, and rolled his eyes.

In different directions.

[shati.livejournal.com]

They knocked over 8 bowling pins each.

"Groovy," said Thom.

Then Meg bounced in, wearing a swan.

"Yo," said Zeus.

[fahye.livejournal.com]

"It's all right," Anthy added helpfully. "I can take them off. Would that help?"

"It might...." Thom was dubious.

"But I need them," Anthy said. Woe filled her nonexistant bosom, and it heaved. "To keep my sword in."

A giant innuendo entered, stage left, and hit Thom with a fish.

[shati.livejournal.com]

Anthy is a Pisces. So it was SYMBOLIC.

"I don't care about your sword," Thom whined. "I only care about my sword. And my sister's."

Anthy picked up her bosom and tucked it into bed. "Good night, dear."

"I hate babies," said Thom. "They are terrible for my figure. Oh baby, baby."

[schiarire.livejournal.com]

The bosom cried. Would no one kiss it good-night?

"Ugh," said Papa.

But Uncle said, "I'm on my way."

[fahye.livejournal.com]

The bosom kept wailing.

"Do you know anything about milk?" Anthy asked Uncle Innuendo. He shrugged, and emitted a few paradoxes.

"That's disgusting," said Thom. He began to sulk.

Uncle Innuendo looked ashamed and volunteered to bosomsit for Anthy. Thom hit him with the fish, which had been abandoned on the floor.

[grimy-brian.livejournal.com]

Anthy looked at her watering can sadly.

"My crack is rusty."

Hubert watched longingly from his perch in the rafters, cold black eyes gleaming like the moon on the scales of a dead fish.

[shati.livejournal.com]

"So is mine!" said Aziraphael, and they embraced passionately between the hot Italian moonlight.

Something scuttled.

[grimy-brian.livejournal.com]

Crowley watched, forlorn, the kilt he had donned especially for the occasion wilting. His sporran was clearly inadequate, and he despaired. Something scratched at his leg.

He scratched back.

And a pair of beady black eyes under a beautiful mane of red hair stared up from his knee. Threads stretched as a mouth curved in a smile.

[fahye.livejournal.com]

Anthy tapped the can. It made beautiful music of confusion.

"Your stomach is deficient!" Hubert wailed.

Anthy looked up at him. "Which one? I have four," she added proudly. "Like cow."

"The silver one."

[grimy-brian.livejournal.com]

"No no no," said Anthy, smiling serenely. "You must be mistaken! The silver one is specially reinforced."

"Why would you DO that?" Hob sounded panicked. His voice squeaked like a little girl with a skinned knee.

"So that-" but it was too late. Her precautions were all in vain. Lobstrosities burst from her stomach, singing the Hallelujah Chorus.

[fahye.livejournal.com]

Aziraphael screamed.

"No! No! Wrong key!"

The lobstrosities circled evilly. They could sense the silver.

Hob hid under Anthy's shoe.