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I think my brain may implode.
Really.
Harvey and Poirot are in it, arguing. Or, rather, Poirot is gearing up to point out all of Harvey's faults with John. And I need a plot, because this is ridiculous.
I think I should give up even trying to be sane at work.
And. DOM!!!! I got issue one of the Domino LS, and it kicks much ass, even if Dom looks like a little kid most of the way through.
But. Domness.
Picked up the last two Sojourns as well. One has whatsisface making a line that is either a sly reference to Farscape, or just a coincidence (shut up). Gareth. That's it. Anyway. Gets his sword back in a fight. "Thanks. Works a lot better than harsh language."
Which made me go "*squeak*!" because that's the corollary to Chiana's "What did you expect me to use, harsh language?"
Oh, my brain is so fried.
And, now, for your amusement...
"The little grey cells, you see? This is a time to employ them, most earnestly."
Harvey growled, "Shut up."
"Nononno. My dear friend, this is most distressing." Tilting his head to the side, the dapper little man smoothed down one side of his mustache. "You, you do not listen. And this Crichton, he slips like the sand through your fingers, tres bien?"
The neural clone growled again, then stalked to one end of the faceless room and back. "Why am I here?"
"Best to ask someone else that question."
"I asked *you*." Reaching out, he grabbed the man by his lapels and hoisted him upwards.
"Please! You are ruining my collar! M'sieur, I require that you put me down and release me this instant!" His legs kicking in the air, the little man nonetheless conveyed a sense of wounded dignity.
Slowly, Harvey set him down. "Who are you, anyway?"
Fussing, the man settled his lapels, making little clucking noises over their state as he rearranged them. "Moi?" He finished his primping and pulled out a card, handing it to Harvey, "I am the most famous detective, Monsieur Hercule Poirot!"
"Never heard of you." Harvey replied dismissively.
"Idiot!" Straightening Poirot leveled an offended glare at Harvey. "I am wearied of having to be ridiculed by such as you."
"If you were at all useful, I wouldn't make fun." Harvey replied, slouching against the wall.
Taking one last pass at his lapels, and sniffing, Poirot turned from Harvey, "Very well, since you are being so disagreeable, I shall leave you to this cell." And so saying, he stepped up the wall and vanished through it.
Gaping, Harvey stared at the spot where the rotund little man had disappeared. "How the frell did he do that?" A hand came back through, the fingers gesturing imperiously. Deciding he had nothing better to lose, Harvey followed them, stepping up to and then through the wall.
Harvey and Poirot are in it, arguing. Or, rather, Poirot is gearing up to point out all of Harvey's faults with John. And I need a plot, because this is ridiculous.
I think I should give up even trying to be sane at work.
And. DOM!!!! I got issue one of the Domino LS, and it kicks much ass, even if Dom looks like a little kid most of the way through.
But. Domness.
Picked up the last two Sojourns as well. One has whatsisface making a line that is either a sly reference to Farscape, or just a coincidence (shut up). Gareth. That's it. Anyway. Gets his sword back in a fight. "Thanks. Works a lot better than harsh language."
Which made me go "*squeak*!" because that's the corollary to Chiana's "What did you expect me to use, harsh language?"
Oh, my brain is so fried.
And, now, for your amusement...
"The little grey cells, you see? This is a time to employ them, most earnestly."
Harvey growled, "Shut up."
"Nononno. My dear friend, this is most distressing." Tilting his head to the side, the dapper little man smoothed down one side of his mustache. "You, you do not listen. And this Crichton, he slips like the sand through your fingers, tres bien?"
The neural clone growled again, then stalked to one end of the faceless room and back. "Why am I here?"
"Best to ask someone else that question."
"I asked *you*." Reaching out, he grabbed the man by his lapels and hoisted him upwards.
"Please! You are ruining my collar! M'sieur, I require that you put me down and release me this instant!" His legs kicking in the air, the little man nonetheless conveyed a sense of wounded dignity.
Slowly, Harvey set him down. "Who are you, anyway?"
Fussing, the man settled his lapels, making little clucking noises over their state as he rearranged them. "Moi?" He finished his primping and pulled out a card, handing it to Harvey, "I am the most famous detective, Monsieur Hercule Poirot!"
"Never heard of you." Harvey replied dismissively.
"Idiot!" Straightening Poirot leveled an offended glare at Harvey. "I am wearied of having to be ridiculed by such as you."
"If you were at all useful, I wouldn't make fun." Harvey replied, slouching against the wall.
Taking one last pass at his lapels, and sniffing, Poirot turned from Harvey, "Very well, since you are being so disagreeable, I shall leave you to this cell." And so saying, he stepped up the wall and vanished through it.
Gaping, Harvey stared at the spot where the rotund little man had disappeared. "How the frell did he do that?" A hand came back through, the fingers gesturing imperiously. Deciding he had nothing better to lose, Harvey followed them, stepping up to and then through the wall.