...shit, really? I don't know. I wasn't planning on it until I thought about getting the volunteer opportunities out of the way as fast as possible. I signed up to do meet and greets at it. I'll just make it conditional that nobody's allowed to touch me and hopefully, it'll only take like an hour, then I can get out of there. I mean, or I could change it so I'm not volunteering at the party and I can do it another time.
You think I should bail and schedule another thing to make up for it?
Yeah, it turns out public gatherings with multiple people who have superpowers can and often do go to hell. [That’s—not comforting, but Eddie’s a big guy, he can handle an hour of handshakes and glad-handing.] An hour’s fine.
Just—if something goes down even before the hour’s up, you get out fast. I know you’ve got fucking incredible immunity now, but I’m not sure if that stretches to suddenly having your most traumatic memories uploaded onto the Internet, for example.
[...which has actually happened to Richie.]
Of course I could just be fucking paranoid. [He says it with a wry, self-deprecating note: hey, look at me, freaking out over nothing.] They didn’t always go to shit so spectacularly, it just happened way too often. There’s a few people here from that same world, you can ask them.
Well, that's great considering the whole year's worth of events the Parks and Rec department sent for us to choose from...
[ No, no it is not comforting at all, quite frankly, but Eddie will just have to suck it up, he decides. He wants that stipend until he can save up an especially comfortable cushion from the money he isn't wasting on utilities and rent while he looks for a job that's more suitable than the one he's been skipping every day. Honestly, who in the hell thought putting Eddie in charge of children was a good idea? ]
...wait, what? What the hell are you talking about, Rich? How is that even a thing?
Eh, you can just go to two, do two things at one and just one thing at the other, and then blow the rest off. That’s my plan. [A pause.] Want me to drop by? Just to keep an eye out for weird shit.
[Although Richie’s threshold for weird might be a little higher than usual.]
Oh, right, yeah. One of the Swear-Ins I went to, there was this experimental tech that suddenly glitched. Fucked up the people with psychic powers, and apparently that set off some kinda reaction where people’s memories got pulled out of their heads and uploaded onto the Internet. [A tired sigh.] I think mine singlehandedly gave somebody—fuck, whaddaya call fear of clowns again?
I kinda figured I'd do the meet and greet at this thing and then the next two parades. That way, I have minimal contact with people. I'd really prefer it that way. But yeah I'm going to blow off the rest, probably. But yeah, cool, come by. I have to figure out what the hell I'm going to wear. I guess costumes are mandatory. I'm guessing I can't get away with putting on a suit and saying I'm going as a lawyer or something. What are you going to do?
[ That's...all right. A lot. ]
Jesus Christ...wherever you were, that's some fucked up shit.
Yeah, that. I accidentally gave some poor alien fuck who’d never even seen a clown before coulrophobia.
[He is disturbingly casual about this now. There’s a quiet snicker, like Eddie’s just said something he finds funny.]
No, but if you slicked your hair back and came with a microphone you could say you’re John Mulaney. [A pause.] Actually, forget I said that. I’m going as John Mulaney, there can’t be two.
I guess in your defense, it's not an entirely irrational fear to have.
[ Wrinkling his nose, Eddie looks confused. He's not really a stand-up comedian kind of guy. The only special he ever watched was Richie's and, at the time, he didn't even really know why he wanted to watch that one. ]
The fuck is John Mulaney? I'll figure something out.
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You think I should bail and schedule another thing to make up for it?
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Just—if something goes down even before the hour’s up, you get out fast. I know you’ve got fucking incredible immunity now, but I’m not sure if that stretches to suddenly having your most traumatic memories uploaded onto the Internet, for example.
[...which has actually happened to Richie.]
Of course I could just be fucking paranoid. [He says it with a wry, self-deprecating note: hey, look at me, freaking out over nothing.] They didn’t always go to shit so spectacularly, it just happened way too often. There’s a few people here from that same world, you can ask them.
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[ No, no it is not comforting at all, quite frankly, but Eddie will just have to suck it up, he decides. He wants that stipend until he can save up an especially comfortable cushion from the money he isn't wasting on utilities and rent while he looks for a job that's more suitable than the one he's been skipping every day. Honestly, who in the hell thought putting Eddie in charge of children was a good idea? ]
...wait, what? What the hell are you talking about, Rich? How is that even a thing?
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[Although Richie’s threshold for weird might be a little higher than usual.]
Oh, right, yeah. One of the Swear-Ins I went to, there was this experimental tech that suddenly glitched. Fucked up the people with psychic powers, and apparently that set off some kinda reaction where people’s memories got pulled out of their heads and uploaded onto the Internet. [A tired sigh.] I think mine singlehandedly gave somebody—fuck, whaddaya call fear of clowns again?
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[ That's...all right. A lot. ]
Jesus Christ...wherever you were, that's some fucked up shit.
[ Frowning slightly, he clears his throat. ]
Coulrophobia.
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[He is disturbingly casual about this now. There’s a quiet snicker, like Eddie’s just said something he finds funny.]
No, but if you slicked your hair back and came with a microphone you could say you’re John Mulaney. [A pause.] Actually, forget I said that. I’m going as John Mulaney, there can’t be two.
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[ Wrinkling his nose, Eddie looks confused. He's not really a stand-up comedian kind of guy. The only special he ever watched was Richie's and, at the time, he didn't even really know why he wanted to watch that one. ]
The fuck is John Mulaney? I'll figure something out.
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[Yeah, Richie’s as confused as anyone over the Internet’s sudden adoration of John fucking Mulaney. Like. Him? Really?]
Yeah, who knows if the clown at your birthday party won’t suddenly try to kill and eat everyone, right.
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[ God... Too soon, Trashmouth. Eddie's still got phantom pain in his chest and stomach every once in a while. ]
Beep beep, Richie.