fandomhighdorms | Third floor commoon room, Late Monday night

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Third floor commoon room, Late Monday night

Peter was somewhat restless tonight. If he were in New York, he's probably go out webswinging. Unfortunately Fandom's buildings weren't tall enough. That meant late night infomercials.

"Girls Gone Wild? No thanks. Bowflex? Not for me. Shortcut to Internet Millions? Only if I can go back to before the dot com bust. Ultimate HGH? Is that even legal?"

Peter sighed. What had happened to all of the good infomercials? He continued to watch, drifting just enough into sleep that his reaction time might be a little off.

[OOC: First thread locked to Peter and a certain visitor, please, but after that open if anyone's around at this time of night. Audience participation is encouraged!]

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The gremlin currently hiding under a nearby chair was irritated. It'd climbed all this way to watch TV and this student was hogging the remote and falling asleep to boot. So not fair.

When it looked like Peter was really out of it, the gremlin snuck from beneath the chair and around behind where Peter was sitting. Carefully, it scaled the back until it could just peek over and see the remote held in Peter's hand. Teeth bared, the gremlin threw itself over the back of the couch, intent on biting the hand holding the remote in an attempt to make it let go.

Peter's spider-sense woke him up, but just a few moments too late. "Crap!" he yelled as the teeth sunk in. He shook his arm, looking to fling the gremlin across the room.

Well, that didn't work.

Realizing it wouldn't win, the gremlin headed for the nearest vent and disappeared down it.

The venom sank in and Peter walked up by the television. "Welcome to our show! You may think that a good television remote could cost you, fifty, seventy-five, or even one hundred and THIRTY dollars! But you'd be wrong. If you order this universal remote during the next twenty minutes, you can get it for the low, low price of three payments of twelve ninety-nine!"

Peter waited for the applause to subside. "But that's not all! I'll also throw in the batteries to use it!"

Peter braced himself for whatever was going to happen to him. He just hoped it wouldn't be too bad.

Like that was possible.

Naminé heard the announcer voice and peered her head into the room.

"Who are you speaking to?" she asked.

Hermione had been on her way to the kitchen for some water, but she stopped when she realized the voice she heard wasn't coming from the TV. "Peter?"

"All the viewers at home!" Peter answered. "And you! You see, this remote control isn't just any remote. It's a universal remote! It can work on any device in your home or spaceport!"

"It looks like we have some questions from the audience!" Peter said, leading the nonexistent crowd in clapping. "Yes, the girl with the accent. What questions do you have about this fantastic product?" Peter showed off the remote.

"Can it really?" Naminé smiled. "And if I have no spaceport? I should hate to be missing out."

"...What are you doing?" she asked, figuring to go with the obvious, since this was, of course, Peter. She'd follow up depending on how he answered.

"Next up, we have the THIRD FLOOR COMMON ROOM COUCH!" Peter waited for the applause to subside. "You may wonder how we got the rights to sell this artifact, but if I told you, I'd have to kill you! Hahaha! But seriously, we'll be selling licenses to kill later this hour! Anyway, how much do you think a couch like this might cost? Two hundred dollars? Three hundred dollars? Don't be crazy! This is a school couch! There have probably been naked people on it, which lets us sell it for the low, low price of three dollars and ninety-seven cents!"

"Never fear! We'll be selling a dehydrated spaceport later this hour. Just add water and you can launch your very own intergalactic invasion fleet!" Peter announced, clapping his hands together in excitement.. "Isn't that wild? Yeah."

"That is very tempting," Naminé mused. "I can't tell you how many times I've wanted my very own intergalactic fleet, and had nothing but gallons and gallons of water lying around instead."

"Trying to sell the best products for the best prices!" Peter announced. "If you're interested in buying this remote, just call 555-WEBS (http://www.livejournal.com/users/peter__parker/317.html). Our operators are standing by!"

"Then just wait right there and stay tuned for later in our program!" Peter declared.

"I should probably purchase this remote for now," she said, with a nod. "So that I can use it on the spaceport. It wouldn't do to have a spaceport with no remote for it."

"I don't need to buy the remote, it's always been in the common room. Technically speaking, it's not yours, either, and you shouldn't be selling it..."

Unable to sleep, Z found her way to the common room. "Dude, are you selling the couch?" she asked incredulously.

"I have that much money!" Mikey peered his head into the common room and grinned. "Dude, a couch? That's totally awesome!"

"You can order it now for three low payments of twelve ninety-nine plus shipping & handling. Your remote will ship in six to eight weeks, offer not valid in Tennessee."

"No, it's not mine, but it could be for the low, low price of three payments of twelve ninety-nine!"

"Another question from the audience!" Peter said. "Let's give her a hand!"

"Now I wouldn't say I'm selling the couch. At this price, I'm practically GIVING IT AWAY!"

"We have a prospective buyer, ladies and gentlemen!" Peter said to the crowd that didn't exist. "Come on down. What's your name, sir?"

"Dear me," Naminé said, shaking her head. "Whatever did Tenneessee do? Don't their residents deserve these low, low prices and incredible deals?"

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Third floor commoon room, Late Monday night

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Peter as an infomercial host!

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