[video]

[wrong-sometimes.livejournal.com]

[Cassie is sitting in her room, cross-legged, looking right at the camera. Her expression is falsely cheerful, belying the dark circles under her eyes. She also has several computer print-outs that she's going to use during her little notice to the network.]

Is it recording, Bot?

Yes, Mistress.

Okay, then. [She takes a deep breath.] Hey, network. Do you think this looks cute? [She holds up the first print-out.] Have you ever made one of these? [The second print-out.] Seen this in a store - [Number three.] - and decide you just had to have it? Is this - [Number four.] - your idea of politics?

Boy are you in fucking luck. Because this Halloween, for one night and maybe the last night of the world, we're all getting this. [She holds up the large drawing, pushing it forward so it fills the entire view screen. She continues to speak as she holds the image.] Congratulations, city, it's our very own Lovecraftian shit-storm.

[She drops the notebook and lets the drawing fall to the floor.] If the Porter, or whoever's planning these little holiday entertainments is taking requests, can I just say, Night of the Lepus? Because drawing giant bunnies has got to be less nightmare-inducing than this crap. Seriously.

Comments

[wrong-sometimes.livejournal.com]

What's in the picture is what I've got. That and knowing it's on Halloween.

[coffeeking]

Specific timing, then. Better than you can hope for with some visitors. With any luck, it'll be punctual and won't pop by early.

[Because dealing with Lovecraftian Horrors with humor is just how we roll.]

[wrong-sometimes.livejournal.com]

Yeah, 'cause inconsiderate elder god things are the worst.

[And sarcasm is how Cassie rolls.]

[coffeeking]

Definitely worse than the considerate ones.

[And now he's just teasing]

[wrong-sometimes.livejournal.com]

Do you think he'll bring a gift for the host? Maybe a bottle of wine?

[She can do this aaaaaaal day.]

[coffeeking]

He may be unable to think in such puny human terms. He'll probably bring untold horrors and death instead. Still, it's the thought that counts.

[Sounds like fun.]

[wrong-sometimes.livejournal.com]

Maybe when he's done destroying the city he'll find a copy of what's-her-name, the manners lady?

Not that it'll matter. We'll all be dead.

[Oops, that one got a little maudlin there at the end.]