What, was "Rudy" on cable last night?

. . . Yes.

big bird-face
Eliot Spencer vdistinctive
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Office hours, Wednesday
It was a pretty average day of office hours for Eliot, throwing some darts and sorting through some paperwork while Val took a nap on the spare office chair. Until a scrabbling noise in the vents had both Val and Eliot sitting up at attention.

The grate over the vent slammed open and a gremlin in an extremely dusty backwards baseball cap came bursting out of it with a roar. It dodged past Val, ignoring her barking, made straight for Eliot, and managed to sink its teeth into his forearm before he could do more than shout at it. The gremlin then leaped atop Eliot's desk, its green scaly fists raised in a triumphant V, did a victory dance on top of it, and bolted for the vent on the far wall while Val gave chase, scattering papers and office supplies everywhere. The gremlin made it back into the safety of the ventilation shaft, its grembros cheering and slapping it congratulatorily on the back, and Val barked a final warning at it before turning concerned eyes back towards her person.

Eliot stared back at her, eyes equally wide, his hand clamped over his faintly bleeding forearm.

"Wow!" he said finally, and grinned. "That little guy sure was green, huh!"

Val cocked her head, confused, then gave a little puppy shrug and trotted over for some petting. Her person was in a good mood! Who was she to argue?

"How many paperclips do you suppose there are here?" Eliot Big Bird asked. "Let's fine out. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3. . . ."

[so today I get to spend my morning doing a rather specialized job I haven't even had to think about in a little less than a year. TIME FOR A GREMLIN BITE. Open!]

"What the hell man?!" Hardison demanded, slamming into Eliot's office. "The fuck is this? Syrup rain? Seriously? Seriously?"

Val immediately ran over to greet Hardison and lick any syrup up off his shoes for him. Big Bird looked up from his paper clip counting. "Oh hi there!" he greeted happily. "Golly, you sure are a grouch, aren't you? Sometimes the weather is bad, but that's okay, it just means we can have fun inside."

"Val, you probably shouldn't..." Hardison stopped and looked at Eliot. What? Wasn't he going to order Val away, in case the syrup was dangerous to her? "...Wait, what kinda indoor fun are you thinkin' of?"

That wasn't even so much of a come on as it was confusion. Eliot's ideas of 'indoor fun' were pretty limited.

"Well, right now I'm counting paperclips," Big Bird said. Counting was loads of fun. "But there's also board games and story time and drawing and singalongs and maybe even a video if it's okay with your parent or guardian."


This was so incredibly weird.

"Yeah. Countin'. That's a whole lotta--yo, babe, your arm. Is that blood? Lemme see that." Eliot wasn't the type to just let his injuries sit without treating them.

"Is it?" Big Bird looked at his arms curiously. "Oh, no, those are just feathers! You can tell because they're yellow instead of red."

Like Big Bird was going to miss a chance to identify colors.

See Hardison, not being hopped up on gremlin venom, was not seeing bright yellow feathers. He was looking at a nasty ring of teethmarks streaked with red. The one good thing about going through this recently? He knew better than to argue with it.

"Yeah, sure. Yellow. You're awesome at colors," he said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. "I'mma just--you got a first aid case in here somewhere, right? You know, in case someone were to get bit by a gremlin an' start to hallucinate before they could clean their arm. Like, to pick a scenario at random."

"I don't know!" Big Bird said cheerfully. "But they're pretty useful to have around, so I bet there is one somewhere." He leaned waaaaaaaaaay over to look under the desk. "What's a gremlin?"

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Bob walked through the wall, eyes back over his shoulder toward the outside. "Some days it's rather nice to be incorporeal."

Edited at 2015-07-01 04:59 pm (UTC)

Big Bird clapped. "Gosh, that's a neat trick, Mister!"

Bob eyed Eliot dubiously. "Are you ill?"

"I don't think so," Big Bird said. "Let me check." And he pressed his hand to his forehead thoughtfully, then looked himself over, completely ignoring the no-longer bleeding but still clearly visible bite mark on his arm. "I don't have a fever. And I'm not feeling sleepy, and my tummy feels okay, and my feathers are nice and bright. I'd say I'm a perfectly healthy bird!"

"Your...feathers. Because you're a bird." Bob eyed him skeptically, then caught the bite mark. "Right. Well, that's definitely good to know. So what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out catching worms to eat or something?"

"Ewwwwwwwwwwww!" Big Bird said, in that delighted, grossed out way that six year olds had. "Of course not! I prefer birdseed. Especially the chocolate covered kind!"

"Of course. Well, unfortunately I'm fresh out." Bob beamed. "Why don't you go ask Doctor Lecter? He cooks all sorts of things! I'm sure he'll have some."

Bob, you were a terrible troll.

"Oh what a neat idea! Thanks, Mister!" Big Bird cheered, then looked around. ". . . Uh, Who's Dr. Lecter? Does he live on Sesame Street, too?"

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There was singing from Eliot's office Not the usual singing, either.

"Whatcha up to?"

Big Bird looked up from where he was singing about the alphabet. "Well hi there! I was just singing about the alphabet! Would you like to join me?"

When you were a giant six year old canary, life tended to be pretty straightforward.

"...sure. Have you been drinking?" Not that she'd turn down singing. "A B C D, E F G..."

"No. I am a little thirsty, though." Big Bird looked around the room a little, drumming his fingers on the desk. "Is there any water in here? Or, oh! I could really go for some birdseed!"

"...water yes, birdseed...?" She could find some, maybe? Also, Eliot's voice was different. "Hang on!"

She returned through the window with a mug of water, and asked, "What do you need the birdseed for?"

"For a snack, silly!" Big Bird said. "Would you like to share some with me? I usually keep some around in case I get peckish." rimshot He turned around in a circle, doing far less knocking things over with his tail than usual. "So that was pretty funny how you came in through the window just now. That's not usually what windows are for back home. We usually use doors. Doors starts with a D! Do you know any other words that start with a D. . . ?"

"Diamonds. Dynamite!" This was a fun game. Just... a little weird coming from Eliot. Parker frowned and climbed onto the desk. "Desk. I always come in through the window. And why do you want to eat birdseed? Wouldn't you rather have a sandwich? Dijon mustard!"

"Dog!" Big Bird said, pointing to Val. Who was prancing in a circle just generally enjoying the good mood. "Sandwiches can be tasty, but bread's not actually very good for birds like me. It's best to feed us birdseed, or maybe grapes or veggies!"

"..dijon grapes? Wait. You're a bird? When did that happen?" Parker pointed at the nearest book shelf. "Dictionary. Megabyte, c'mere, I think Eliot's in a weeeird mood."

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