phone post

[orangetoughguy]

"Motherfucker, I'm trying to watch The Lost Boys."

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[orangetoughguy]

That's what I've been fuckin' saying.

[See all the sincerity in this slightly freckled and roman-nosed face? Orange just gives Eames a look, the kind of look that says "No shit Sherlock!" because some kind of unknown power is what he's been getting at. Maybe not in such eloquent terms but the point is the point is the point. At least now Freddy's certain Eames got it or is considering the possibility.]

No why are you offering?

[Sarcasm. Read; that's sarcasm (guarding a guilty feeling that he wouldn't entirely protest if Eames did). Oh shit just go Newendyke, just go.]

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[signatures]

[ OKAY EAMES IS OUTIE. He sits up, digging into his pocket to drop a few coin to pay for his meal on the table. ]

Go piss it out, Mister O. When you've regained your sensibilities, give me a call. We'll hash out details on your and your friend's observations at a later time, hmm?

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[orangetoughguy]

[This is excellent timing and somehow awkward and yet fulfilling in that someone listened to him but he still has a hard one and he's gotta get that taken care of oh but first pay for your beer. Freddy gets up and drops a coin down even for the pita too. Obviously he's moving a little slower and more discretely than Eames.]

Okay. We'll do that.

[They'll be departing in completely opposite directions too, no doubt. Orange as his lightweight flannel to cover up the front of his pants. Real discrete yep.]