Rag-A-Muffin
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When am I ever serious?
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Post by Al Cellini on Jul 11, 2017 22:06:28 GMT -6
It seemed to be quiet for once in Gatsberry during the night. It was odd, Gatsberry never was quiet, it was usually filled with loud people, laughter, music, the echos of parties and more. It was dead silent now, the streets were just empty and chilly. A figure was walking down the street of a pretty wealthy neighborhood. It was uncommon in this area for people to be walking around this late. The figure was none other than Al Cellini. He was humming to himself, swaying back and forth to the song he had in his head. He stopped on the side walk, jumping some, and spreading his arms out wide. He smiled and then tilted his head back, yelling, "OH, PRETTY BABY!" He started running down the street hollering the lyrics to a song, "DON'T BRING ME DOWN, I PRAY!" He continued to run, falling over a trash can, causing a huge commotion.
A couple of people had their lights come on and began to yell comments like, We're trying to sleep! Al couldn't help but stand up and bow, laughing at the attention he brought to himself. He was under a street light now and you could see him more clearly. His shirt was ripped and covered in dirt, a tie was wrapped around his forehead, one of his shoes were missing and he had some makeup smeared around on his face. Who knows what he was doing before this and how he managed to get over to this neighborhood. He continued walking and started looking at houses, "Hm, too small, too ugly, too-..." He stared at the house and said, "bland." He continued to walk and came to a dead stop. He widened his eyes and gasped, becoming cheerful, "Oh, buddy! I think we have a winner winner chicken dinner." He did a small dance as he talked to himself. He saw the perfect house, not to big, not to small, unique and charming. He walked right up to the establishment.
He knew he couldn't knock on the door at this time. He started to look around and walked around the house. He looked up seeing a window. His eyes lit up and he whispered, "Bingo!" He stood there, seeing the window was to high to reach. He looked around for something to use to boost himself up. He walked over to the neighbors house and spotted a trashcan. He grabbed it and walked back over to the window. He climbed on it, causing a lot of commotion once more. He started fiddling with the window trying to get it unlocked.
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Gatsberry's Admin
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Firecracker in training, here to watch it all burn.
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Post by Lacie Rourke on Jul 13, 2017 22:47:52 GMT -6
Great. Peachy. Swell. It was incredibly late, even for Lacie's standwards, and some moron was running up the street, practically screaming the lyrics to some song she didn't give a rat's ass about. Some hooligan from the streets--who knows, maybe she'd interacted with the dummy at some point. Still, to be in this neighborhood? Either a reckless hooligan or a drunk rich guy. Either way, annoying.
The blonde turn over in bed with a huff and threw her pillow across the room in frustration. Wide awake. Early morning lessons would just be a thrill tomorrow, wouldn't they? With a sigh, she stood up and made her way to the kitchen. Maybe a glass of water would help her calm down. Rummaging through the pantry as quietly as possible, she found a glass and made her way groggily to the sink. Not that she would get in trouble for needing water, she just didn't wanna wake up Papa or the Nanny, hence the quiet.
It was as she was tiptoeing back to her room that she suddenly heard a strange jiggling noise. Immediately she tensed and looked around. Shit. Someone was trying to open the window. Part of her wanted to call for Papa, but she knew that would just scare her person off before anyone could get a look at them. They would learn nothing. It would just be another easy escape.
Not tonight, thought Lacie. She put the glass of water on the table and quickly scurried into the closet, searching blindly until finally she grasped the golf club she had seen Papa put away that morning. She gripped it tight in her hands and hid herself behind a curtain, waiting for this person to make their way into the house so she could teach them.
You don't bust into the Police Commissioner's house and get away without a scratch.
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Rag-A-Muffin
45
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When am I ever serious?
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Post by Al Cellini on Jul 13, 2017 23:23:25 GMT -6
Al continued to fiddle with the lock. He began to mutter things under his breath, "Fucking no good, piece of shit, old sack of dog shitting lock." He continued to fiddle with it and it finally became unlocked. He widened his eyes and smiled big. He threw his hands up and said in an aggressive whisper, "YES!" He was celebrating to his victory. He finally got the blasted thing unlocked. He had a smile on his face until he felt himself tilting backwards.
He began to fall backwards and let out a scream, "SHIT!" His Italian accent managed to come out when he panicked. He held back more of his yelling. He fell backwards, knocking the trash can over, landing on the ground and causing another commotion. It was a talent of his to be loud, apparently. He hit the ground pretty hard. It was a miracle if he was going to be able to get up after this incident.
He laid on the ground and let out a groan. He sighed and then mumbled to himself, "Walk it off, buddy." He said to try to motivate himself again. He slowly got up and looked at the window. He was debating on if it was worth it or not. Apparently, it was; he began to set the trash can up again. He steadied himself and climbed back onto it. He balanced more carefully and managed to hop through the window.
He landed inside and smiled to himself, mouthing, "Nice." He stood up and looked around. He couldn't see that well, it was somewhat dark in the place. He scratched the back of his head and slowly began to walk around. He then thought to himself, Nice place, hm. I'm definitely moving in. He smiled while having those devious thoughts of his.
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