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2nd Floor Common Room, Monday Night

After a difficult morning and an afternoon of fruitless wandering, Karla was more than ready to come back to the dorm and do something silly and mindless. Teevee sounded like an excellent plan for that, assuming she could find something decent on. Half the time she was watching, she could only find those stupid shows where people on stage cried and argued with family members about sex all the time.

Clicking one of the buttons that made it change, Karla flipped channels until she found something she recognized: a baseball game. Since Darkest Night wasn't returning to the air, Karla'd run out of reasons to throw popcorn at the screen. This was perfect!

After making a few calls to potential interested parties, Karla settled back down to watch the game. And if anyone asked, she'd tell them she'd specifically burned the popcorn to make it better to throw, dammit.

[Open like a Common Room!]

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And no one would take it as a regift, either!

"Wait, is the second baseman going to hit the homer?" Karla asked. She'd spent more time insulting the eight year old than learning the rules at the Gotham game. "Does he get a bat, too?"

"He gets a turn to bat when he's not out in the field," Dinah explained, grinning at her. Awww. New fan! Like Raven was a new fan of fanfic! Soon, the American culture would be distributed galaxy-wide! It was enough to make Dinah give her a spontaneous mini-hug.

"Three outs, and they switch positions again... and the GK second baseman is a hottie. Hit it hit it hit it ohhh did you see that?! NO HITTING HIM WITH THE BALL, STUPID PITCHER!"

"Hey!" Karla was on her feet, also shouting. "You can't hit someone with the ball! That's totally cheating!"

Or was this like hockey and hitting was kind of okay?

"Awww, where's he going?" she asked Dinah, sounding offended. "He didn't get hit that hard. Is he leaving the field? Big baby."

"He missed three times, so he's got to go out." Dinah pouted and threw more popcorn. "And it's totally cheating! YO, UMP, YOU'RE BLIND! The instant replay says you're blind too!"

And it did, with many handy little arrows and circles to show how blind, blind, blind the ump was. Dinah flopped back in disgust. Then perked up again. "Oooo. Oh hey, it's the guy from the Meteors. Who are usually the enemy. But today he is our savior--"

"I'm confused," Karla said. Fortunately for Dinah, she was used to that. Hopefully, this discussion wouldn't end in fishbowls and lions again. "Why was the ump blind? And why is that Meteor guy suddenly on our team."

Karla didn't like him. Him or his tiny, underaged fans.

"'Cause it's the All Star Game. They pick the best from all the teams in the league to play against the American League, who will always all suck," Dinah clarified. "And our second baseman and our catcher rock, so they got to be on the team. As well as Mr. Meteor here, who usually I would curse for HAAHAHAHAHAHA HOME RUN YES! YAAAAAY!"

That would be Dinah, bouncing on the couch like she was five.

"He hit it! He hit it!" Karla cheered, also bouncing with Dinah. She held up her hand for a high five. "So we dislike the American team more than the Meteors? Okay." She filed that away in her head. "Why are there two leagues, if all the teams just play against each other anyway?"

"You know, I have no idea?" Dinah blinked. "I think it started a way long time ago, but I don't know why. But yes! Because if we beat the American league champs at the end of the year, we get to be World Series Champions, and take the pennant and the cup home, and it would be so cool for that to happen." She sighed, sat back, and took a bite of popcorn, forgetting what it was like.

Bleeeah.

"Is the World Series a really big game?" Karla asked. "Why don't the two best teams from each league play in that?" She was getting dreadfully confused again. Still. Whatever.

"Know what? Never mind. I'm just going to keep throwing popcorn at the teevee instead." She gave Dinah a sly, sidelong glance. "You know, if you're hungry, you could always make more popcorn."

Not that Karla was hungry, of course. That's not why she'd made popcorn. Though she'd share with Dinah.

"Huge. Huuuuuuuge," Dinah explained. "Seven games, best four out of seven gets to be the champ... And don't think I don't spot your sneaky strategy, sweetie." Beat that alliteration, Karla!

Not that it stopped Dinah from getting up and searching for more popcorn to make.

"I'm certain I have no idea what you're talking about," Karla said, the very picture of innocence. "I'm simply suggesting sustenance so certain slip-ups don't..." she tried really hard to think of another 's' word "...reoccur." She conceded defeat with a laugh.

Dinah hooted, holding onto the counter as she put the popcorn bag into the microwave. "Awesome attempt, amiga!"

"Don't doubt my dexterous drollery, Dinah!" Karla said, laughing even harder now. "I can't think of anything else alliterative to add--oh, wait, did that count?"

"Enough, it counted enough," Dinah said, stabbing at the button on the microwave, and giggling as she tried to get her breath back. "See, we could totally be sportscasters. They have to come up with stuff like this on the fly, so everyone remembers it."

"Yeah, apart from my witty wordplay, I don't think I'd qualify," Karla said, snickering. She picked up a cup and pretended to speak into it, like a microphone. "And down on the field we have some guy. He's...definitely doing something, wouldn't you say Dinah? Oh! It's something with that bat. Oooh, good move, Whatsyerface."

Dinah leaned out to see as the microwave dinged, and cracked up at Karla's commentary. "Warming up. And now he's bunting. Pfffft. We could so do that." She grabbed some sodas from the fridge and brought the bag of popcorn over, shaking it up. She spoke into her can. "And now he's slow-poking it to first base. As the crowd mocks him. As they should!" She settled in next to Karla, opening up her drink. "If we can do it, it so shouldn't count. They're supposed to be pros, for crying out loud. That eight-year-old would be mocking them."

"Stupid eight year-old," Karla grumbled. "Also, his mother was very rude."

Karla had barely even started cursing, really! She'd had lots better insults that she hadn't even gotten to.

"Though, in this case, he'd be right." She picked up her glass again. "With Whatshisface making his way to first like an arthritic grandmother, some other guy comes over to take the bat. People on that other team are moving around a bit. Are they bored with their positions? I can understand that. It is taking awhile for Whathisface to get to first."

Dinah spluttered into her soda, impressed and laughing, and said, "Meanwhile, the sportscasters are blathering on about some rich guy in the boxes who donated money for the new stands. We think New Gotham's rich guys would do that better, too. And now the coach is going out to the mound to tell the pitcher he's really blowing here. Like, vaccuum. The fans will eat them if he can't pull this out, so suck it up, dude." Dinah toasted him with her drink, and said to Karla, "Now back to my partner, the ever-effervescent Karla!"

"Well, Dinah, now that we've established the ball-throwy guy is laying down on the job more than a Red Moon worker on her first day, let's see what else is happening." Karla paused to watch the teevee some more. "Ummm...the red-faced yelly guy is still red-faced and yelling. Good, good, I'm glad to see everything's pretty status quo there. Oh, and that male over there is schmoozing. Way to schmooze, guy. Wow. He even looks smarmy from over here. Ooze on her dress a little more, why don't you?"

Dinah was pretty much reduced to helpless giggles at the first part of Karla's 'broadcast', and then had to stop and breathe for a whihle, before snickering at the guy on the screen who the camera had alighted on. "And another American League fan is shot down. You tell 'em, sister."

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2nd Floor Common Room, Monday Night

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