http://stubborn-annie.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] stubborn-annie.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] milliways_bar2007-06-21 10:20 am

(no subject)

Harry, it seems, has gone off to deal with horrible space monkeys.

Annie had to reread that note from the Bar several times; it was one of those incidents where no matter what rearrangement of things she tried, she couldn't get the words to make any more sense than on the first go. Harry, Cooper, and Spoon are off dealing with horrible terrifying space monkeys- and in Shetland, of all places.

Monkeys. With fear pheromones, and gigantic visible head implements, and-

Monkeys.

Sod it, she's not even bothering to claim it's a test recipe today. She's just made up an extra-large batch of triple-chocolate-chip cookies with sourdough starter (keeps 'em nice and chewy) and she's eating the damned things at a table in the Bar herself, but she might share if asked. Just be prepared for indignant Englishwoman fuming.
mnt_mike: (Stampy)

[personal profile] mnt_mike 2007-06-21 04:02 pm (UTC)(link)
A small trunk begins to snuffle in the general direction of Annie's ankles. Someone smells cookies. That same someone smells chocolate. Only on the best of all possible worlds would the two be combined!

Stampy's an optimist.
mnt_mike: (Stampy: bounding)

[personal profile] mnt_mike 2007-06-21 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Ooh! Someone's talking to her! Someone that smells of chocolate!
Her little brush tail begins wagging until full-on blur occurs. Stampy rears up on her hind legs, and begins to snuffle at a higher elevation.
mnt_mike: (Incredulous)

[personal profile] mnt_mike 2007-06-21 04:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Trunk snuffles hands and then arms and then...well there have to be cookies around here somewhere!

Meanwhile, over by the Lake Door, a barman slowly loses his patience.

"Stampy!"
mnt_mike: (Weary)

[personal profile] mnt_mike 2007-06-21 04:32 pm (UTC)(link)
"HEY! You put that back!"

He points in Annie's general direction. Stampy, like all pets caught doing something they shouldn't be doing, freezes momentarily...and then attempts to look as if she was doing anything other than what she was originally doing. Innocence comes at the cost of the cookie, which then drops to the floor.

Mike walks over, path as straight as the tables and chairs will allow.

"You'd think she'd never been fed, the way she begs for treats."
mnt_mike: (Human woobie)

[personal profile] mnt_mike 2007-06-21 04:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Mike waves away her concern.

"Nahh, that's how she plays the game. She's banking on the fact that you've never seen a mini-phant, and will either give her free snacks, or will be so distracted that she'll just steal them.

It's my fault, really. I should never have trained her in ninjitsu."

Stampy, for her part, is still seated on the floor as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

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[identity profile] nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com 2007-06-21 05:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Ace claims a nearby chair, the dogs (all three of them) in tow. She's not quite in a state of fuming, but that's only because she's fairly sure some of the things she deals with on a regular basis rank higher on the totem pole of weird than monkey.

Not many things.

But some.

Maybe.

Enough that she doesn't have a leg to stand on when it comes to being annoyed.

"'Lo, Annie."

[identity profile] nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com 2007-06-21 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
"By puppy-mail, yeah. I'm just wonderin' how many heads he plans t'bring back." Ace snickers, taking one of the loverly cookies.

[identity profile] nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com 2007-06-21 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Ace makes a face and takes another cookie.
"Wells is a'right with avoidin' bringin' home trophies - he didn't manage t'bring back any plastic from that Auton mess."

At least, Ace didn't catch him at it.

[identity profile] nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com 2007-06-21 09:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"For theoretical Cybermen, yes?" Ace approves of preemptive measures. With Cybermen, preemptive is good. It is excellent.

[identity profile] ltmuldoon.livejournal.com 2007-06-21 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)

There's a door. See? See how open it is?

There's also Sand. Oh so much sand. And with the advent of sand there's a werewolf holding a newspaper and trying to make sense of what it says.

He is in fact not paying attention to the sights, sounds, and smells of the new location. S'far as he's concerned, he's still in the sand box.

Even with that cookie-type smell.

[identity profile] ltmuldoon.livejournal.com 2007-06-21 10:55 pm (UTC)(link)
The man's only response is an ineffectual grunt and then-

Oh well Shit.

"...Fuckin'-"

His eyes go wide, "....First time 'bar's fuckin' appeared when I'm tryin' to go to the fuckin' can."

There's a pause as he wonders if he should tone down the language, and then he remembers-this woman's married to Wells and his language's probably tame compared to that guy.

"...Give me a moment."

And it's a few moments before the lieutenant appears looking disgruntled and annoyed, "....'those cookies I smell?"

[identity profile] ltmuldoon.livejournal.com 2007-06-21 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Cookies.

The look of longing that Muldoon fixes on them is painful.

Taking a seat he grabs for one and sets the paper down. It's arabic, (can't help that) but there's an image of a Bridge (http://www.eg.bucknell.edu/~hyde/England/PicsJan2/11TowerBridgeThames.JPG) that she might recognize.

"....Space monkeys."

This is one hand on the table and the other hand grabbing a couple of cookies for later. Stop him now, or he might eat them all.

[identity profile] ltmuldoon.livejournal.com 2007-06-21 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)
"....I'm strugglin' to find somethin' that doesn't sound fuckin' condescending or "Your husband's a fuckin' nutbar."

Muldoon frowns, "...They need an extra-"

Her comment makes him think, "...S'not claiming. This could just be-"

He frowns, "....There was an outbreak of a "biological agent" in a hospital. The area-" He grabs for the paper and straightens it, "...St. James hospital in Surrey England was blockaded today by a combined force of English and American Soldiers after reports that a "Zombie Plague" had infected most of the staff. The area is under quarantine, and officals are investigating the possibility of-"

He frowns again, "....'the idea bein' that there's somethin' fuckin' up in the state of England so to speak and we're picking up alot of military chatter that's..."

Pain? You don't know pain. Pain is the expression on this man's face, "....S'only one thing I can think of in my world that'd cause shit like this."

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