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Bob. ([info]silent_bob) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-05-15 17:09:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!dropped, !incomplete, cheryl mason, day 07, jay, location: gas station, sid jenkins, silent bob

Day 7: Who Wants Weed? PM
Who: Bob and OTA
What: Trying to get to the pot
Where: The Not Quick Stop
When; Late Afternoon day 7
Rating: Let's go R just to be safe for language and drug use?

Bob had diligently responded to the notes from people about the pot in the Not Quick Stop. If somebody was brave enough to come fuck with the cooler, well come fuck with the cooler. At the moment, he'd situated himself at the main counter, inventorying his smokes and taking count of what was there. There was all kinds of weird shit - shit he wouldn't smoke even if the cigs were nasty. Who the fuck smokes cloves that isn't 14?

Staring from the front of the store like the fucking cooler was his arch nemesis, Bob was certain that he had no choice but to fucking get into that thing. Sure, he couldn't deal like back home, but to have a stash in his pocket and a fucking job to fucking do would be fucking amazing.

Get me a taste of Jersey with a fucking dime bag in my pocket - it's all Bob wanted.


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[info]emo_underdog
2009-05-15 06:30 pm UTC (link)
After getting Jenny back to the theater, Sid hadn't planned on going out. Ever again. Well, at least not again until the snow melted. But, then he'd gotten into his journal and saw that someone had said there was weed, which he remembered as the American word for spliff, and Sid couldn't get the fuck out of the theater again any faster.

It took more time to get to the gas station than he'd have expected, but when he got there, he muscled the door open and stepped inside, stomping the snow out of his shoes and brushing it off his coat and hat.

There was a man in a trench coat standing behind the counter looking as though he fucking worked there. Sid caught his eye and tipped his chin up before turning and pulling the door closed behind him. "Where's the spliff, mate? Hope you weren't kidding, because it's bloody cold out there, yeah?" he said, looking back at the man behind the counter with raised eyebrows.

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[info]silent_bob
2009-05-15 07:03 pm UTC (link)
Bob watched as some kid walked in. He wasn't quite sure who he was, but Bob figured it was just somebody else the fucking place pulled the fuck in. He seemed fucking young and shit. And British. What the fuck was up with that? Why the fuck would whoever grab some fucking British fucking kid? Fuck, Cheryl would totally fucking forget about him now - chicks dig accents and shit - even if they're faggy accents.

Then Bob's mind registered what the kid had asked. Spliff? What the fuck was that? Bob's lip curled and head tilted in a look of fucking perplexity. Though - letting his mind work a moment, the only thing anybody would fucking say somebody was joking about would be the fucking chronic hanging out in the back fucking cooler.

Stepping out from behind the counter he waved for the kid to follow. Down the aisle Bob stopped, standing toe to toe with his arch nemesis - the fucking cooler of fucking pot-traps and shit.

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[info]_snoogans_
2009-05-15 07:27 pm UTC (link)
Jay walked out of the back where he'd gone to the john to find Silent Bob and some dorky looking kid staring at the goddamn stupid fucking cooler like it was going to move at any moment.

"Well, what the fuck are you two doing? It ain't a magic canvas that if you stare at it long enough shows you a sailboat!"

Stupid fucks. Though even he didn't want to mess with it anymore. It did look badass, Silent Bob was right.

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[info]emo_underdog
2009-05-15 08:57 pm UTC (link)
Right, then...man of few words. Although, Sid did register the slight confusion on the other man's face when he mentioned spliff. "Oh, right...er...marijuana," he clarified. It seemed, however, that Sid's clarification was unnecessary; the other man seemed to figure out on his own what Sid had meant and led him across the store to a cooler Sid hadn't remembered seeing there.

Lo and behold, the sodding thing was full of spliff...and quite apparently locked. "Shit..." he said under his breath. Sid had never seen that much dope in his life. "Beat that Twatter," he muttered, grinning to himself.

As Sid opened his mouth to ask the other man's name, he heard another male voice and turned his head to look over at the source. These blokes looked a bit rough and Sid was starting to wonder if maybe coming out hadn't been such a good idea, after all. Although, they didn't seem to mean any kind of harm...

"Magic Eye," Sid corrected the second man. Those books were the coolest thing when he'd been little. Really little. "Think it's locked, though, looks like," he sighed, furrowing his brow and looking back at the cooler. He tipped his head slightly to the side and frowned. "Although...I don't actually see a lock...'m Sid, by the way," he said, taking a step forward and trying to push the top open.

The second he did, what looked to Sid like a fucking ninja star shot out at him and sliced his cheek as he ducked away. "Bollocks! Christ! What the fuck?!" he snapped, kicking the thing. Another something shot out toward his legs and Sid did a quick, awkward sidestep trying to avoid it, only managing to collide with the blond haired guy. "Sorry, sorry. Christ...what the fuck?!" He raised a hand to his face and when he pulled it away, there was blood. "Shit."

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[info]silent_bob
2009-05-15 09:04 pm UTC (link)
Bob was a bit jilted at the moment, still quite certain that when and if Cheryl showed up she'd fucking run off with the fucking Brit. That would fucking blow.

Bob snorted, giving a man-nod to Jay before watching rather uncomfortably as the kid started to fuck with the fucking lock. Bob, in an act of self preservation hid himself behind one of the chip stands - he wasn't about to get fucking maced by the motherfuckers, no fucking way.

Furrowing his brow as he watched metallic bits literally fucking shooting out of the fucking cooler Bob could hardly contain his look of 'I fucking told you assholes so!' long enough to watch and see if the kid was fucking alright. From the best Bob could tell he was.

Fucking mindgame playing assholes.

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[info]tufui_egoeris
2009-05-16 02:37 am UTC (link)
Cheryl couldn't really say that she was too eager to go back out into the storm after helping to dig Edward out, but her curiosity about the mystery of the rigged pot cooler guided her back in the direction of the gas station. Really, she didn't know how much good she'd be since she all but ruined her hands on the snow but she might be able to offer a bit of advice - or, if not, at least she could be amused by watching the guys try their hardest to get at the pot.

Either way, Cheryl let herself into the gas station but the greeting she had been about to offer died on her lips when she noticed the tense looks all around. Her expression turned from quizzical to concerned when she noticed the blood on Sid's cheek and the pieces of metal on the floor. "Okay, I admit that I know shit about smoking pot but even I know that it doesn't usually include blood and small bits of metal - so I'm guessing that's the trap part of all of this, huh?"

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[info]_snoogans_
2009-05-16 11:10 am UTC (link)
Jay was just about to say something rude to the Brit fag for correcting him when said Brit fag touched the cooler and weird metallic shit shot from it. Jay's eyes opened as widely as they would go before the Brit fag collided with him and Jay nearly lost his balance.

"Heeeeey!" He protested loudly, not only against the Brit fag, but also against the goddamn rigged cooler, against how Silent Bob seemed to be right, and against having pot that they couldn't access. What a fucking fucked up thing.

Of course his mood lightened up substantially when he saw this hot blonde chick - was Laura the only brunette? - and Jay's scared expression turned into a sort of charming smirk. Or so he thought, anyway.

"Hey there gorgeous, who are ya?" He asked, walking towards her, not even caring one little bit about the bleeding Brit fag.

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[info]emo_underdog
2009-05-16 11:27 am UTC (link)
The look that the mute gave wasn't lost on Sid, but he chose to ignore it. Spliff was fucking spliff and after he'd come out in the bloody snow because somebody in the journal had said they thought maybe he'd be able to get into the case it was in, he fucking wanted it. That was all there was to it. He'd figured at worst, the thing would be locked and he'd be shit out of luck, but he hadn't expected the sodding thing to throw shards of metal at his face and legs.

Sid was wiping his hand on his jeans when he heard Cheryl's voice and he looked over his shoulder at her. "All right, Cheryl?" he asked, brow furrowed with the slight sting of pain in his face. His brow furrowed even more when the blond guy headed over toward her and Sid felt oddly disgruntled by the fact. It wasn't like he had any sort of dibs on Cheryl and he had Cass, anyway, but he felt silently predatory about it. Sid, however, wasn't one to act on it, so he stood back, frowning. "Fucking bollocks, that," he muttered angrily. "Who puts that much spliff out and then sodding booby traps it? Twats..."

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[info]silent_bob
2009-05-16 08:59 pm UTC (link)
Bob was moderately amused to see Sid bumping in to Jay. Still, he was quite smug. He had thought that the case might actually release some sort of poison gas a la the Scarecrow or some shit - instead out came those little metal Baterang shits. Fuck. However, Bob could totally just cling to this moment of happiness.

Then came Cheryl. Jay was already biting off his cookie and the fucking Brit was on her like white on rice. Fuck.

Bob gave Cheryl a wave of acknowledgment as he cracked open a beer from the cooler behind him. Might as well drink, right.

The cooler was fucking winning.

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[info]tufui_egoeris
2009-05-16 10:56 pm UTC (link)
Cheryl raised both her eyebrows at the smirking blond guy who seemed to be approaching her as if he were starving and she was the last cheeto in the bag. She did manage not to take a step backward from him as she had initially wanted; instead, she managed an amused expression as she sketched a small wave. "I'm Cheryl - and something tells me that you have to be Jay."

"Better than you, it looks," she responded to Sid. Her expression turned from amusement at Jay to concern for the blood but it didn't seem as if Sid had actually been hurt too badly. "So metal shards is what happens if you touch the cooler? That's pretty damn low."

"Hey Bob," she called cheerfully as she returned the wave of acknowledgment. "How's it going?"

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[info]_snoogans_
2009-05-21 09:19 pm UTC (link)
Jay smiled at Cheryl. "Damn right, recognize." He said, looking her over like he was about to lick her at some point. He then turned to Silent Bob with a nod of approval, and motioned for his friend to get him a beer. "Come on, lunchbox, get with the program!"

Then, he turned to Cheryl and the brit guy again. "So, you two gonna help us open the weed box?"

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[info]emo_underdog
2009-05-23 10:51 am UTC (link)
When Cheryl's expression was that of amusement, Sid smirked to himself. This guy was reminded him of Anwar. He might have to keep the bloke around just for laughs. Cheryl addressed him and he confirmed that his name was Jay. Right, so that only left finding out what Silent's name was.

Rather than reply vocally when Cheryl suggested she was better than he was, Sid raised his eyebrows and nodded, lips drawn into a bitter frown which he then directed back at the cooler when Cheryl spoke again. "Yeah, 's fucking bollocks is what it is," he snapped, still focusing his anger and annoyance at the box even if he was replying to Cheryl.

Then she greeted the quiet guy and Sid looked over his shoulder, eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them. They knew each other before, clearly, and as it turned out, Silent's real name was Bob. Good to know.

With another wearied glance at the cooler, Sid sighed and took out his pack of cigarettes, lighting one and then holding the box up for Cheryl to see. "Oi. Yeah?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in a silent invitation for her to bum a smoke, should she want one. Might as well smoke, right?

The one called Bob was getting himself a beer and the one called Jay was motioning for one as well. "Reckon I could get in on that, mate?" Sid asked Bob, nodding toward the beer as if to ask for him to get one out for Sid while he was getting one out for his buddy. Sid looked back at Jay and shrugged. "'m not touching the sodding thing again, mate, your turn," he said with a frown, dragging off his cigarette and going out of his way to blow the subsequent smoke away from the other two men. If Cheryl got a shot of it, he figured, she'd live since she was a smoker, too.

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[info]silent_bob
2009-05-24 06:28 pm UTC (link)
Cooler was fucking winning, because the fucking Brit knew Cheryl and Jay was looking at her like a fucking piece of meat. Suddenly, Bob was sort of wishing they were back in the fucking pit. Fuck beans.

Cheryl asked him how it was going and he waved the beer a bit at her. So bad he turned to beer? Yeah, that sounded about right. There was a big ass thing of weed and he couldn't get to it. Fuck.

When did he turn into the fucking waitress around here? Everybody asking him to get the fucking beers. Well, at least he could take consolation in the fact that they were fucking warm. Ducking into the cooler he pulled out three more beers. With little care he threw one at Jay and one at the fucking Brit. Waggling his brow he offered Cheryl the last one. Might as well be fucking nice to somebody, right?

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