Case # 37: Video

[19centconstable]

[Someone is holding the communicator carelessly in one hand, as though they don't know it's on. The floor passes by slowly under the camera's lens. Whoever they are, they're walking hesitantly toward something. Bathroom tile appears, and then: the base of the toilet.]

Sweet wounded Jesus. I've died and gone to heaven.

[It's a boy speaking; his voice soft and high, his accent somewhere between Irish, British, and Pirate.

In other words: George Crabtree.]

Comments

[damnitjocelyn]

[I see your Irish/British/Pirate kid and raise you a cranky Georgian teenager.]

You're not dead, kid.

[19centconstable.livejournal.com]

[Small George, and small George's large hat peer into his comm.]

Hello? How did you get into there?

[damnitjocelyn]

Oh good go- I'm not in your PADD, kid. Or whatever you're using. I'm in the infirmary. [And lol is not leaving even if he is fifteen again. >|]

[19centconstable.livejournal.com]

Are you ill?

[damnitjocelyn]

No. I'm a doctor.

[thebestnose.livejournal.com]

...this isn't heaven.

[19centconstable.livejournal.com]

Well where is it then?

[thebestnose.livejournal.com]

Some weird ship. But it's not so bad.

I have dolls. [Pause.] I've never had dolls before.

[19centconstable.livejournal.com]

It doesn't feel like a ship.

Why've you never had dolls?

...Wait, how would I get on a ship?

[thebestnose.livejournal.com]

Well, I don't know. Who are you?

[expectremorse.livejournal.com]

That's not heaven! That's a potty!

[all the five year old giggling]

[19centconstable.livejournal.com]

A potty what?

[Although George agrees with you: it does look a little crazy.]

[expectremorse.livejournal.com]

That's a potty silly! A toilet. You go poop in there.

[This is...the greatest most hilarious thing ever so he'll just be over here laughing hysterically]

[19centconstable.livejournal.com]

A potty...silly...

[You Americans have no idea how to speak propperly.]

Oi, what's so funny?

[expectremorse.livejournal.com]

[That sobers young Hoffman up] Don't wanna say.

[meanstwin.livejournal.com]

{ No accent aside from generic American (and lol no PB either), but have a skinny kid with glasses, maybe seven years old, wrapped in a giant sweater. ]

They, uh... do you live on a farm?

[19centconstable.livejournal.com]

Yes?

[ALL OF YOU AMERICAN ARE WIZARDS.]

[meanstwin.livejournal.com]

Oh, I guess that's what it is. There's a girl in my class, Ashley, she lives on a farm and they don't have a toilet in the house. They have to go outside.

[19centconstable.livejournal.com]

I don't know anybody who's got a water closet in the house.

[meanstwin.livejournal.com]

Uh... I thought everyone had them. Unless they live on a farm like you and they have a really old house.

But I guess if you think about it it's kind of cool.

[scentbombed]

...What the hell is that?

[19centconstable.livejournal.com]

It's a water closet. Indoors.

[scentbombed]

A closet for water? [The Disc is even more backwards than Canada! Imagine that.]

[19centconstable.livejournal.com]

No, for...

[How to say this without being improper...]

...going.

[scentbombed]

Going... in the water? Like taking a... [Her mind automatically goes to the word "bath." She makes a face.] Gross.