milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Gilbert Blythe is sitting at a table in the middle of the bar, staring somewhat morosely at a frog.

The frog is in the middle of the table, staring back at Gil.

The frog is also, it should be noted, singing highlights from Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals.

Gil would probably welcome interruptions, and the frog loves an audience.

ETA: [OOC: Must sleep, and am running out of Lloyd Webber songs. Slowtime, if you like, just let me know. Good night!]

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"It's a very good place for friends," says Gil. "I don't know what I would have done if I'd been stuck here without her."

The frog bows very low, gives Estsanatlehi what is unmistakably a grin, and begins to sing "Don't Cry For Me, Argentina."

She grinned, finally hoisting herself into a seat, "Do you like corncakes? I invented those. Especially the ones with honey."

Gil blinks.

"I don't know that I've ever had a corncake," he says, honestly, "with or without honey. But if you invented them, I shall have to make it a point to try them."

The frog abrupts abandons Evita and begins a surprisingly soulful rendition of "I Don't Know How to Love Him."

She gasped in something that may or may not have been Genuine Shock™ "You haven't"

She shook her head then, setting a plate on the table, it was stacked with corncakes, all of them very nearly liberally doused with honey, "We'd better take care of the deficiency." she said around a mouthful of one herself.

Gil blinks in a bit of surprise, then smiles and takes one of the corncakes.

"It's very good," he says after a moment. "I think it would go very well with tea. Would you like a cup?"

The frog goes right on singing.

Talking around a mouthful of corncake was something that she had years and years of practice doing, "Corncakes go good with everything. But tea sounds good."

Gil flags down a passing waitrat and asks for tea, which he pours and sets in front of her when it arrives.

"Tea goes well with almost everything, too, so clearly corncakes and tea is a perfect combination."

The frog launches into a medley from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor(TM) Dreamcoat.

She laughed once more, bright and amused, sipping at the tea, "Don't suppose it ever shuts up does it?"

Not that she didn't like the music of course, music was her favorite thing, besides cookies, but it was a bit distracting.

"Well," says Gil, "sometimes he sleeps. Other than that, he's usually singing."

It's driving Gil crazy, actually.

"Hm." She said, and then, curious, she stretched out a hand to cover the frog's eyes gently, just to see if he thought it was dark, and time to sleep, he'd stop singing.

For a moment, the frog simply sings "Close Every Door" all the more loudly and sincerely, and then he begins to snore.

Gil is impressed.

"I'm going to have to remember that trick."

She smiled, "You could always put him in a box. With a lid? It's like birds when there's a blanket on their cage."

She shrugged, munching another corncake, "Didn't know it would work with frogs too."

"Well, he's not exactly a normal frog," says Gil. "But I'll find a box for him. It would be nice to be able to do my schoolwork without having to put cotton in my ears."

She laughed softly, nodding, "I think it would. Then you could use him for winning bets too."

She wasn't sure what kind, or she would have said, but c'mon, singing frog in a box, how could that not win bets?

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