oh just shut up bit
Who: Moritz & Henri What: There's food in dem dere dumpsters When: Quite late on the 27th, Sunday Where: dumpsters and dreams
"Oh, we meet again, my treasured, lovely friend."
A guttural laugh, two clapping hands, and a small, red-rag clothed shimmy.
"You, you see you, feel you're just a dumpster full of debris; and I, well I, I know different—" Bare feet pace a circle around the trio of metal pyramids, each set roughly in a hewn line. "—I know you are but soldiers of fortune, dressed down in your lives by circumstance to carry the burdens of others and their freedoms, the freedom to—" and paff! off one lid goes, and a too tall for its width body slips almost partway down "—discard, disabuse, and my that's rather pretty now innit?" And out from the trash already with a little shred of something lacy and black. "Hmm!"
Moritz held it across his partially bare chest, eyes cast down to a tubby black and white tabby below. "Meowmeow." The cat tipped its head upward, ineffectually. "Your thoughts?" He dug his fingers into the lace, creating a large enough hole for it to slide over the mess of black curls atop his head.
The cat plopped flatly on the ground and, one leg stuck in the air, began licking its balls.
"Well." Moritz pouted slightly, new lace choker haphazardly about his neck. "Everyone's a critic, then, right?"
Before Meowmeow plopped a little piece of discarded meat and gristle. The cat considered, gave one last groom, and took an immediate chomp.