Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Day Three-Ninety-Three: Stuff

In the old days, Libby and I used to do stuff.

And I don't just mean the stuff with the thinger, 'cause that barely ever happened. I mean, like, stuff. Fun stuff. Sure, she could be a naggy douche a lot of the time, and she did lock me in a cage and let people throw rotten fruit for her general amusement, but she was also a bit of a buddy. Buddies do that. We went out, we had dinner with friends, we made fun of people, we played board games, we argued over whether or not Eve was an evil little cow… you know, STUFF.

We don't do stuff anymore. Maybe that's part of my general boredom: when I'm done work each day, I expect to come home… to the pub, I guess… and do STUFF. Particularly with Libby. But she's too busy to do stuff these days, between her project with June and building up the town and all. She's always fiddling with this and that and has no time for me. Plenty of time for GRAYSON, yeah, but not me.

Same goes for everyone else. Even Edmund, who, as a bard, should be DEDICATED to having a good time, is wrapped up in his own STUFF. No time for MY stuff, he's got his OWN stuff. STUUUUFF FRUSTRATES MEEEEEE.

Today I decided not to take no for an answer. I would do SOMETHING, ANYTHING, with my wife. Even if our STUFF consisted of nothing more than sitting down together for a simple meal. Preferably something more complex than that, but… STUUUUUFF

Libby's been working 'round town during the day and visiting June's hut in the evenings. That leaves precisely no time to do stuff, though I'm not a huge fan of June, so I opted to try and steal her away from her daily duties. I'm the mayor, I can make it happen. Right? Nope, wrong.

"I'm busy," was all she said when I approached her in her half-built workhouse, crouched over a cracked water wheel. "Dammit, Fledger, I told you to be more careful with that hammer."

"Sorry, mum."

"Don't call me mum, either."

"C'mon, Libby, you must have a bit of time. You keep comin' up with board games. Wanna go play one?"

"That's parta my duties," she grumbled, three nails dangling from her mouth as she grabbed for a mallet. "It's not even lunch yet. Go do work."

"But nobody needs meeeeee!" I tugged on the sleeve of her coat. "C'mon, you never get a day off. You deserve a half hour. An hour. A whole DAY, if you want. C'mon, you just gotta want iiiiiit."

"I don't!" She reached back, without looking, and knocked me across the room. "I'm tryin' ta put your stupid town together! Gotta work on traps after this! Stop buggin' me!"

I didn't. Even after Libby kicked me outta her workshop, I stuck around and waited for her to emerge. I pestered her as she moved from place to place, attempting to convince her assistants to find something else to do. Libby's too, uh, 'persuasive' to be outdone by me when it comes to managerial force, however, and they stuck by her. I got so annoying that she knocked me out and left me dangling from one of the lower boughs of the golden tree.

Now I've got a cold. Stupid Libby.

Dejected, I shambled into the pub, sneezed a dozen times, and went up to see Evangelina. She's the only person who's got a moment to spare, probably 'cause her only other option is reading books, staring out the window, exercising (she does that surprisingly often - didn't think nobles cared about keeping fit) or grimacing at the weird bloodstain left behind by her brother. We can't seem to wash it off of the bars.

"Evangelinaaaaa," I whined, slumping down in the visitors' chair, "nobody wants to do stuff with meeeeee. What're you reading?"

She looked up from her book and cocked an eyebrow. "Lord Dandylion's Ode to a Lost Sheep. It's stupid. Shouldn't you be acting the part of a mayor?"

"I TRIED, but nobody wants my help!" I sneezed and slapped the back of my chair. "Bein' mayor's stupid."

She shook her head and sat up on her bed. "You have more mood swings than a pregnant cow. Just yesterday you came in complaining that you'd nearly been disemboweled by a werewolf. Now you moan about being bored. Your memory for your fantastically-eventful life is so small."

"Oh yeah, the werewolf…" I mulled that over. "Did you get bitten durin' that whole thing, Evangelina? Last year, I mean."

"No, I was off on some mission for my brother. I can't remember what. That was a busy time."

"I guess so." Sniff. "It sucked. Everybody wanted to eat me. But at least it wasn't boring."

"Go back to the mountain, maybe the werewolf will give you something to do."

"Antonia? No way, man, she'll beat me up. Better at it than Libby, she was, what with all her boxing finesse 'n such. Hey, wanna play Rookery?"

Evangelina closed her book and sighed. "Do I have much choice?"

I grinned. "Nope. 'least I can still tell YOU what to do."

And that's what we did.



Dragomir the Mayor


  1. ....I'm so ronery, ar sad: ar arone...its kinda sirry, but not rearry...sitting on my rittow throne...

    1. ...I work rearry hard and make up great prans...But nobody ristens, no one understands...Seems like no one takes me serirousry

      (hehe, love that song)

  2. "You have more mood swings than a pregnant cow." New favorite line!