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[zazz]

[When he enters the Plane he looks pretty ill about it. Either the trip made him woozy or it was whatever booze and/or pills he had consumed earlier that was making the trip feel like he was at sea. He slipped about on the floor, stumbling around in his underwear as he tried to get his bearings.]

Ooooh...Ohhhh...dat's space. [He fell onto all fours by accident, forehead against the floor-not-floor.] I'm pretty sure that that's--yeh, dat's space. I can tell, I know what space looks like. I can't believe I did it, like I-- [He swallows thickly, like he might be sick, but he manages to tap it down and get back to his feet.] Eugh...gettin'...gettin' space sick, heh. I discovered space walkin' and space sickness, shit, if I wasn't the richest fucker in the world already I'd be-- [He gets distracted by staring at a particularly nice and swirly galaxy, then he looks down at his empty hands.] Oh . . . oh no . . . I dropped the ham somewhere. That was good ham. Gaht it frahm the fridge.

[He turns as if to double back to look for his deli meat, but he only half turns and merely starts off down another direction, mumbling to himself.] Lookit me, m'in space. Pickles he drummer. Pickles the space drummer. Gaht to space by fuckin' magic. Heh, I'm fuckin' magic here, wait till I tell the odders, they'll be so--so jealous. I'll eat that ham in front of 'em as I tell 'em and they'll be all... [He stops, one arm akimbo and the other scratching his scalp.] Where the fuck did I drop my ham, gahdammit.

Comments

[zazz]

[He looks up from his search at the voice and blinks, one eye then the other, at the man in a skirt.]

There's a kitchen in space? That's dumb, whoever heard of that. [Snickers.] Besides, mahm always told me naht to accept ham frahm strange doods in skirts.

[bonnypiperlad]

[Well, that's one way to stop him from being confused. And to get him to start pulling faces, which he does, his lips pressing together and his mouth tugging off to one side.]

Look, I'll have ye know this is a kilt! Not a skirt.

[He may just be a wee bit touchy on that particular point.]

But, aye. There's a kitchen here. And a ballroom and one of those batting-cage things. You're not exactly in space, though.

Sorry for delay, I was out of town u///u

[zazz]

Heh, I know, s'jest fun to see yew guys get all worked up aboot it. Oh, noo, it's naht a skirt, I'm gonna tell on yewwww. [Yeah, that's not what Jamie even remotely said but whatever.]

[He points all over at the stars that are everywhere.] Dose are stars. Clearly. Clearly stars. We are in space. Batting cages ain't in space. [Beat, then a shrug.] I guess, I mean, I've never been in space before. Show me. Show me these space things, kilt alien.

No worries!

[bonnypiperlad]

I know what stars are.

[He's still got that hrmph face going on, apparently not quite willing to stop being cranky about his kilt just yet.]

But we've not got to wear one of those space-suit things to breathe here, so we're in some sort of other space. Surrounded by stars, aye, but...och, never mind. The cages are this way.

And my name's Jamie. [Not kilt alien, thank you very much.] What were ye calling yourself earlier, anyway? Pickles?

Re: No worries!

[zazz]

Yeh, Pickles, Pickles the Drummer. Frahm Dethklahk. And yew said Jamie, reet? Heh, yew sure that ain't a skirt--KIDDING, I'M KIDDING. [He chucks him on the shoulder. See, just havin' fun.]

Yeh, dat's smart, dun get all scientific with me, too fuckin' drunk. But naht too fuckin' drunk for batting cages.

[bonnypiperlad]

[Jamie and scientific are two words that really don't tend to go together much at all, so scientific explanations aren't about to happen anytime, well, ever. Getting seriously annoyed over the continual kidding about the kilt might...if there hadn't happened to be something else that was said that catches Jamie's interest.]

Dethklok? Hey, I know that name! Ye must be a friend of Nathan and Toki's, then! Look, I've not seen Toki around lately, but Nathan's here. At least, he was, fairly recently.