milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

There was a Woobie inna bar, relaxing on a stool with a bottle of beer. He was once again wearing a blue t-shirt, proclaiming in white letters across the front:

My name is Andrew.
I am not a turtle.

Ahhh, it was almost like old times. Being a friendly sort, he wouldn't mind company in the least, and is especially fond of meeting new people.

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"I'm fine," he replied absently, brow furrowing in concern. "What's wrong? That didn't sound good."

"Did I tell you about the playing cards?" she wonders, not able to remember. "Oh, I just...I got into a fight with a friend last night. A big one."

"Playing cards? I don't think so." Suddenly, Andrew felt a surge of unexpected regret. How could he have stayed away so long? He wasn't more than an afterthought to most of the people he'd left behind, he assumed, and why should he be? He'd gone on with his life. No sense in dwelling. Yet, the pang in his chest remained. "You alright? Want to talk about it at all?"

"Where have you been?" she realizes that she's been out of the bar and hasn't seen him in a while. "It's...hard to explain," she gives him a small smile. "Remember when we were talking about whether or not we were fictional and the idea of asking Bar for DVDs? Well...I found out I am."

"Oh, man." Andrew breathed out a long sigh. "That's gotta be weird, huh? But I mean, it's not like it's unexpected, right? I mean, when you think about it, odds are we're all fictional somewhere. All you have to do is take a look around this place to know that." He tilted his head as he regarded her, expression worried. "Was it bad?"

She nods, "I feared it might be true, but I didn't expect someone to be given playing cards," she sighs. "Not...terrible. But not the romantic comedy I was hoping for, either."

"But has your life been a romantic comedy? Let's be honest, here. And... I'm still not following this playing cards thing."

"No," she admits. "But I still hoped that if I was fictional, my fictional persona had a better life. Sorry, I meant baseball cards. It was a card with a picture of me and a description of what I went through on a certain day..."

"You played baseball?" So confused.

"No, but it was the same basic idea. Apparently I'm a character on a tv show."

"Have you seen the show yet?" The way Andrew figured it, it couldn't possibly be worse than Raph's.

"No, I'm...not really sure I want to. Honestly, Andrew, I'm not sure I want to see some of the things that happened to me replayed in front of an audience. Especially because it's not just me it's...everyone I know."

Andrew nodded. "Yeah, I guess that might be hard, for you. Me, I doubt it would even be worth watching. But I think we talked about that before, didn't we?" He smiled. "My show would get cancelled after the pilot."

She smiles a little, "I remember that...apparently my show, no not my show, I'm not really the lead lasted a longer time." She looks at him, "Maybe you don't have a show, maybe you have a book..."

"Or a comic book with a very low readership," Andrew laughed. "The Most Unextrordinary Adventures of Andrew the Not-Turtle."

She laughs in spite of herself, "I don't know, I think being a cross dimensional triplet would make a pretty good comic."

"Yeah, but how can I compete with Raph? In his comic, he's, like... assassinating evil aliens with his ninja skills. Mine would be me, sitting around drinking chocolate milk and Heineken." He grinned.

"If you drank chocolate milk and Heineken together, it seems like you'd be spending a lot of your comic feeling not very good."

Andrew laughed brightly. "Yeah, then it would suck even more." He cast a look over to Bar and then back to Michelle. "You really think I could be fictional somewhere?"

She smiles a little, "I don't know, I'm not sure I'd bet against it."

Logically, Andrew knew he shouldn't, but he honestly thought himself far too mundane to be a work of fiction anywhere. He cast another glance to Bar and hesitated before he spoke.

"You feel like playing the odds?"

She stares at him, trying to figure out if he's serious.

"Do you really want to know?"

"How bad could it be?" Oh, Woobie. Deluded, insane Woobie. You have no idea.

Oh Andrew, that is the question of doom. "Hopefully you won't be an extra."

Andrew laughed. "I dunno. I kinda expect it." He paused, drumming his fingers across the top of the bar. "So, uh. I guess I should ask her, huh?"