The Gym, Sunday morning

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

Bruce was not in a particularly good mood. Yesterday morning, he was assaulted and knocked out by monster deer. He wasn't sure yet how he survived that, but he woke up in a storage closet in the joke shop, Who's There?, later that afternoon. When he woke up, there was a rubber chicken on his head.

By that time, Bruce realized, the town and its people were back to normal, which was unfortunate because he really wanted to hit something. He tried to let it go overnight, but the feeling persisted. So right now he was going to settle for a punching bag. And later on, he might check in at the amusement park right across the causeway and make sure there weren't any corporate mascots that were misbehaving. Really, he was just mad it wasn't a Six Flags for his own corporate synergy.

[Open like a gym.]

Comments

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

"Believe whatever you need to," Bruce said. "You've got to sleep somehow."

[wrongkindofsith]

"Not all of us have that problem." It was very different things that disturbed Cara's sleep.

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

And Bruce just avoided sleep as much as possible. It wasn't productive enough most of the time. Among other reasons. "Then that makes two of us."

"But we'll have to try this again when your body's actually up to it."

[wrongkindofsith]

Cara nodded. "I look forward to winning."