2010-07-23: A True Livacle

Starring:

Janet_V5icon.pngParker_V5icon.png

Date: July 23, 2010

Summary:

It's madness. Isn't it always?


"A True Livacle"

Janet and Parker's Apartment

It's a beautiful Friday morning and Janet is walking. Actually walking. It's a day of mobility and Janet isn't about to waste it. In fact, she's been slightly abusive to her body since she walked yesterday. The muscles complain this morning against the use they're no longer accustomed to. Her back aches, but she can't be kept down. No chance. In fact, Janet is dancing.

While it may be early, she's in fine form. In the living room she has music playing and she's Carmel Dansen-ing. Happily she gives herself the little hilarious ears as she bops around. Janet has never been a phenomenal dancer, but without being able to dance, now she wants to do everything she couldn't.

This all goes on for another few minutes uninterrupted until, a few failed tries creating that knocking sound underneath the music, the door opens. It doesn't open enough, though, and Parker and his armfuls of multi-colored shopping bags — not all painted with clothing store names — have to battle their way through against a door quite intent on closing again. Headphones in his ears, it would seem he hasn't even noticed Janet and his dancing yet, as he passes by her with a spare glance towards the kitchen instead.

But then, even with the weights on both elbows from the results of his morning out, he goes ahead and lifts his hands in identical posture to hers, fingers flapping up above his head in strange ear fashion. Hips swaying, he gets in a full turn around that puts him inevitably facing his best friend. Doing the exact same thing. The puzzled look that falls over his face is indulged for a moment as he tips his head against the music, dropping one bud from his ear. Out of it plays a smaller, tinnier version of the same.

Parker's entrance isn't noticed until he's literally standing in front of Janet. She beams at him, dimples forming on her apple cheeks. The smile extends to her eyes, brightening the whole of her face. But there's something unusual about her today and it's not just the dancing. She's brighter than normal, almost uplifting in her form. "Helloooooooooo~" she sings as the song changes. But it fades to something far less upbeat slow and jazzy, "I wanna roll with him like they do in Texas please~"

Janet steps towards Parker and begins plucking the bags from his arms and placing them on the floor. One by one, very methodically, very logically. Once they're all removed, she places a hand on his shoulder and reaches for his opposite hand, "Dance with me?" She grins broadly. Evidently she's not done dancing even with the music change.

There's an easy-going form to Parker as he allows each of his burdens to be systematically removed and set aside, watching her with only the also rhythmic up and down of his jaw as he chews on a piece of gum revealed as he works it into a big pink bubble in front of Janet's face. The hand on his shoulder is glanced at, same with the one that takes his own. Instinctively, his long fingers wrap right around hers, "Of course, the sunshine in my pocket," is the automatic reply, no less sincere, but yet saturated with the bafflement he's sort of vaguely clinging to.

It continues to turn his lips into a twisted, thinking position off to the side even as he sidles along wherever his dancing mistress leads. Something… oooooddddd heeeereee…

But, undeterred, he brings up their combined hands, aiming high above her head — easy for him, with his height — to navigate her in a slow spin in front of him, displaying her new state even if he hasn't recognized it as that.

"Wheeeeeee~" even if it's not a fast spin, Janet relishes in it. Delighted she turns back to face him, still grinning broadly, in fine form and even more upbeat than normal. Suppressing a chuckle she hangs shy of him, not returning the hand to the shoulder, instead glancing down at the bags. "Ohmygoodness you look like you've had a busy morning! I haven't done anything other than dance. Well aside from get up, shower, and dress myself. Oh! ANNND I went for this run except Jorge from next door— Mrs. Rodriguez son— followed me so it was a really really short run and you know I hate running anyways so there is that== I can barely believe it, really!"

Finally she rests a hand on Parker's shoulder again. She feels taller, like she's grown several feet in the span of a few days, and she wears it like a child whose just undergone a growth spurt, the pride and delight just dripping from her like excess. "And I just, I feel like the world's smiling at me today! Do you ever have days like that?"

"Hmmm?" Lips twitching is the smile taking over his thinking, banishing any attempt at seriousness as he glances over his shoulder at the indicated bags. "Busy, busy. I wanted to make sure you were all set, babycakes." The idea of this clearly excites Parker as he grins fit to bursting when she touches his shoulder again and he dips around her side, wrapping an arm about her waist and hefting her up. A hand grabs her leg for support as he executes a controlled fall backwards onto the couch for both of them, him seated and her sideways, halfway about in his lap. "My day is like that every time you're near, pet, didn't you know."

Shaking his head a bit to get unruly — but gorgeous — curls away from his forehead and eyes, he gives her a good look, smacking his lips together excitedly. "When you smile, the world smiles— and that is just what I'm thinking about right now. That you are just— you're glowing a bit of happy happy joy joy annnnnd I just caaaaan'ttttt," he gives her leg a bit of a pat, thoughtful, idle, "put my finger on it…"

"Eeeeeeee!" Janet virtually cheers as she's lowered onto the couch, her smile growing substantially at the motion. "All set for what?" she looks down at the bags again a little more curiously this time. Biting her bottom lip, she cranes her neck to look at the purchases, but she doesn't move from her lounging position on the sofa, it's too comfortable and she's too pleased.

"Awwww! You make me feel delighted, Parker St. James! I am! I am glowing! And I know precisely why! I mean… I'm dancing and running and walking and I wasn't supposed to do that for weeks you know! Like it's amazing! A tiny little miracle performed right here in our living room! It's like… a living miracle. Or a Lyrical. Except that's actually a word and doesn't at all convey what I'm trying to say— "

Hold on, hold on…. Parker's eyebrows furrow — not out of frustration but a steadily growing realization as Janet talks. It culminates in his mouth slowly dropping open to a slackness it's not often seen with. And it doesn't last long. With a bit of a startle that pushes him away from her, his back against the arm of the couch's, he stabs an accusing finger at her face. "— HOLY M-MATRIMONY! She's got legs, you fool!"

Flailing of lanky limbs, he nearly goes end over end off the couch entirely, but manages to deftly turn the fall into an inappropriately deft movement that stumbles him backwards to his feet and brings her along with him when he grabs both of her hands up. Almost immediately, he begins leaping up and down, hand holding encouraging her to join him. "Livacle! Miraviving! Janet, Janet, Janet Ja— oh, hey…" The bouncing slows to a vague sort of bobbing of his head as he eyes over her shoulder, "… now you own a lot of unnecessary movies… by the way…"

Another merry squeal, "Eeeeeeeeeee!" and Janet is on her feet clutching Parker's hands. Within moments she's leaping up and down with him— that same steady rhythm and that same motion. "I KNOW! Isn't it amazing?! And it all happened right here!!! In my chair! It was something out of like a movie like amazing movie!!! Oooo! I think I like Livacle!" her grin broadens though for a moment the bouncing stops. "But yeah! You wouldn't believe it if I told you! I was here and I barely believe it!!" She points towards one of the coffee tables— on it is a series of screws and a metallic plate. "That was in my back! She like took it out and fixed me up good and look at how freakin' good I look now that I can stand! I mean honestly, summer was made for dancing, baby and I've got moves you've never seen!!" And then the bouncing continues.

"Well, I do like that one, but I sort of enjoy the movement of miraviving… mostly because it ends in viving and for some reason that makes me think of vivial. Like convivial, which I find a particularly fun word to say, despite that there is little common usage in every day conversation. I'm going to make it your goal, you living miracle you, to use 'convivial' at some point in the next week."

Parker's eyes drift to where she indicates several long moments after she points, leaving him sort of glancing about until he notices the plate with a curious sort of release of breath — huh. "Honey baby, you always look good. Except for sometimes when you get those nervous interview jitters and you think it's a good idea to try something 'new' with your hair. Also if you sleep on the wrong side. Or if you go see a sad movie even though you know you put on date-level mascara that day."

An arm keeps their hands swinging even if they've stopped bouncing, and there's a bit of a squint back in Parker's gaze as he regards her, though his smile has lost none of its intensity. "Aren't your loved ones supposed to be around you when you're having a livacle? So you can dramatically stumble over to them on your freshly usable legs and everybody cheers and then you break into a game of marco polo so that you can show off your new movement in the most innocent and accidental way to your newly returned humpbacked father? I mean, really, there should be rules about this kind of thing. Or perhaps all that happened and you just don't love me anymore. Maybe I've been replaced by this mysterious 'she' and John Lynch."

"Convivial! That is a fun word to say!! And it's not disturbing like moist. Or spoon. If I say spoon enough it no longer sounds like a word. Spoon. Spoon. Spoon. Spoon. Now it just sounds like a bunch of sounds put together than English or even any other language." Janet's face flushes a little before she gets back on subject. "Awww thanks!! I try, but I'm not the best at the whole hair thing, it just doesn't always work for me and when I get a haircut I never know how to style it after— it turns into total fail and I sit and it's either poofy or flat or floofy… and I like sad movies! You on the other hand are always fabulous! I mean, when you were off galavanting and having adventures without me I wore scrubs all of the time. ALL of the time. We're talking morning noon and night. But they're so incredibly comfortable and that waistband means I don't notice if I put on an extra five pounds or something— "

"I dunno! She did ask about you though— I said you were fabulous as always I guess she didn't know the livacle rules otherwise Carr— " Janet then clamps a hand over her mouth so as to stop talking before clearing her throat and turning around.

It's hard to just fly by topics such as 'sad movies', 'hair', and 'fabulous' without Parker lending in a paragraph or two, but, with a heroic effort on his part, he swallows back these rambles for the moment in order to narrow in on something vaguely as important. "You!" He declares, a happy pronouncement out of his mouth despite the stabbing finger of accusation returning, "You're keeping something from me." The attempt would be to make that the hiss it deserves to be, but he ends up with one parts hiss and five parts dissolving into giggles. He's just, like, too darnded happy to be really truly insulted at this point. Try him later.

This doesn't stop him, however, from reaching over and prying the hand right off of Janet's mouth, his tall, tall body leaning over to get in a bit closer to her face-to-face like. "Believing you were confined to a terrible — but very fun for getting down the hallway when there's someone pushing behind you at a run — chair that didn't go with any of your outfits, I went out and bought every movie I could remember the title of because you, like, passingly said you were going to get sick of repeating Sixteen Candles some day. And you know what I put in there? … that's right. Breakfast at Tiffany's. Breakfast at Tiffany's, Jalicious. Are you going to keep secrets in front of Audrey Hepburn?"

As the hand is pried away from her mouth, Janet kind of gapes at Parker and opens her mouth to object to the accusations, but she can't. Lying in front of Audrey Hepburn is a cardinal sin. Instead, large gasps of truth begin to erupt from her mouth in a really fast and really disconnected manner, "I'm sorry! "— Seriously I could never love anyone more than you because you are amazing and I love you Sugar Bear and I'm so so SORRY you have no idea how long and how hard it's been keeping a secret because I'm really bad at keeping secrets in general but you are like my soul-twin and keeping a secret from your soul-twin is like the single hardest thing in the world especially when you work for like an evil corporation who take innocent people and kidnap them as terrorists— " Annnnnd the hand is clamped back over her mouth as Janet's eyes widen considerably.

"Ah ah ah ah ah ah!" No, Parker isn't finally vocalizing to his favorite part of the song still ro ma mahing in the background, he's scolding as he hurries to recapture that hand he's let escape. It takes a few efforts, but through them, he appeals: "Don't make me go over to the piano right now because I don't feel much like playing to communicate I feel like shouting and singing with you but I can't do that when there are things between us that aren't known things because when they're just secret-y things then everything gets all quiet and bloated like you had fast food when you weren't feeling it and now those chili cheese fries are causing you great regret. But that's all you've been doing to me lately and I'm so behind on your life that I'm hearing it all second-hand even when I live in and I'm not going to respond to that last part because I can't tell if you're speaking literally or in our usual movie metpahorical— "

Janet stamps her foot. It's not really angry, it's frustrated at her own dishonesty. "There aren't things! There's just this one huge massive thing sitting on top of my shoulders since like February or something when I realized that the people I worked for were like the bad guys and that I was helping them hurt people except not because I was the one trying to fix the people that were hurt I mean I am a doctor, right?! That's what doctors do— they fix people! So here I was fixing people like the gal that got shot in the leg and no one treated it until I was all yelling at Morris— who I had this hopeless crush on you have no idea how beautiful this man was— and then I fixed her kind of except not as good as it would've been and then there was this other gal that was overheating because normally she could like make things icy and so I smuggled terrorists out from the government noses— " None of this makes any sense and seems to make less as her smile is long gone. With a distinct frown her eyebrows knit tightly together.

"— and I AM speaking LITERALLY. This happened! Like actually and I've had to keep it in because I'm sure the CIA or something is going to arrest me any day for aiding and abetting terrorists and why I haven't exactly been keen to work because I was so frakin' foolish thinking everything was going to be fine and I had my happy little dotorcing world but there are people who can do extraordinary things— " she's pacing now with a hand on her forehead.

Parker's lower lips swallows his upper one as he stares at Janet with a similarly knitted look of concentration; it's not one he's typically employing when it comes to Janet speaking, but comes out full-force now as he give a few idle nods, only straightening when she moves away to pace. After all said and done — or, at least, that intake of breath that indicates it's natural to interrupt her — he sails over to where she's gotten to and wraps long arms around hers, trapping her arms against her body in the friendliest way possible. His hand reaches up to knock that one away from her forehead.

"I sort of zoned out halfway in there, pumpernickel, but I think I sort of came back around the end — anyway, somewhere in the section I did catch, it just sounds like you were being the angel I know you are and trying to make people comfy. So what if the company was… uhh. What you said. You were getting paychecks, right? I don't think it can be illegal if you're getting, like, real paychecks…" He gives this all of five seconds of really focused pondering before moving on, swaying a bit to make her do so — loosen those tense limbs. "ANYWAY, I'm not seeing any reason you can't have you happy doctoring world while people are… sorry, what did you say people were doing?"

The contact stops the pacing and easily moves her head from her forehead. Her expression remains worried as she shakes her head. "It wasn't illegal well it was, because it was human trafficking, but I didn't know that! I was just being doctorly, you know?! Like doing my job and helping sick people and people that… that were shot…" Janet frowns distinctly, her lower lip pouts out considerably as she reaches to actually lace her fingers with Parker's.

With another sigh, she begins to spurt information again, "There are people in the world that are amazing and not amazing in like a 'man, that Christina Hendricks' is amazing kind of way, but amazing in like a holy crap that shouldn't be humanly possible kind of way! Like the lady that visited me and ruined my doorknob! Erin's friend she FROZE my doorknob and then threatened me and Erin killed my plant by touching it and this other girl had like hairvoyance and could grow her hair any length or colour or style and like Carrie… Carrie healed me— there are people that are incredible and it was my government-job to man the med stuff to keep them captured because they were all deemed dangerous even though like most of them aren't really and they're just Americans like you or me trying to live— "

Skinny boy fingers embrace hers, curling about and giving her hands an automatic encouraging squeeze. Still lingering behind her, their hands reach out in front of the both of them and he idly eyes that grip while tucking his head against the top of hers. "Christina Hendricks boobs are kind of inhuman…" at least proves he's listening. So far. When she rambles right over — and insensitively past — the mention of someone who can grow her hair any length or colour or style, HOWEVER. Parker straightens just slightly, just enough to disconnect him from his gentle touch on Janet, and just enough to perhaps suggest that he's faded away into imagining THE POSSIBILITIES. That sort of glazed inattentiveness fades into his eyes as he tilts his head, bouncing his own amble curls about his ears.

Janet now turns around, she's losing his attention and she knows it. "Parker! PARKER!" her voice raises twice as she gives his arm a tug. "Come back here!! Missing the point!!!" Snapping her fingers she attempts to get his attention again. "Point is there are amazing people in the world and one of them fixed me! Don't worry though I'm just me, can't do anything amazing other than talk the ears off a donkey! Which we all know I could do if I wanted to…"

"… I wonder if that'd make it like Fresh Prince…. — What!" Parker is very suddenly paying all of his attention as his gaze darts from arm to her to following the movement of her snapping fingers. His eyebrows attempt some kind of seriousness when she mentions a point, but the fact that there's very little reaction from there to the end of the sentence might make it seem like she still hasn't got him. Until… "You can do plenty amazing," he opines with a bit of a shrug, "You know that, don't you. I tell you sometimes. It's, like, on my calendar of things to do even though I haven't got one of those. I think I put it in a voicemail once."

Finally Janet looks him in the eyes again. "Oh! I don't feel bad because I'm not like them, nah I kind of like being like me and the whole freezing stuff and melting stuff and setting things on fire with your hands is cool and all but it's like not as amazing as singing or making someone smile or other things— when Carrie told me about what she could do, I thought she was coming out of the closet! Turns out she has like a boyfriend now and she gave me more detail than that but I'm not repeating it because I'm pretty sure you don't want to know but I seriously thought she was hitting on me. She asked me to lift my shirt?! What's a girl supposed to think?!"

"Dude. That's…" Parker's hand comes up to rub against his chin, "Ehh… no. Falls short. Carrie was like this adorable little Annie waif. I'm not getting the hot factor here. But a boyfriend, eh? I guess good for her. I felt a bit bad with the kicking and the leaving." His leg swings in a vague gesture towards the door through which the mentioned Carrie exited. "I just hope it doesn't turn out like one of those bad X-Men things with the power and self-consciousness and the — bleeh. Seriously. They've got issues to here with all the touching, melting, freezing things. Were they, like, terrible to work with? — O M G." Whatever realization he's made is followed by side-stepping around to give her a proper oh-hay-bitch shove to her shoulders with the tips of both hands. "Oh hay bitch. I can't believe we had a whole conversation about Black Widows and canaries and I gave you that comic book and you said gasp-nothing," he hisses it out scandalously, "HOLY PYGMALION — do they REALLY WEAR THAT STUFF? — CAN I RUN THE INTERVENTION THAT STOPS THEM FROM DOING SO?!"

"No one I've met wears that stuff other than Jaden and he's as normal as you and me— Well… normal-ish. I did catch him like battling the air in a Jedi get-up the other day— " she waves a hand kind of warily as Janet shakes her head. "And yeah they have like issues and stuff but it's not all X-Men, as far as I know no one has organized like that but then I'm not one of them, I'm like… one of the extras in the background. Not a leading lady and certainly not one of the freaks if that makes sense. I just get to see these things happen. Oh man, I met a guy in Central Park who like could work my nerves before Carrie healed me and he helped me walk! Man, they're like EVERYWHERE you just need to be looking, except they're shy and people don't know they exist so don't go around asking people and DON'T tell Erin I told you or she'll like give me a disease or something and then I will shrivel up and die and we'll have to enact my funeral plans way too early before we've ever even made a pilgrimmage to stalk Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt and that would be problematic because how am I ever supposed to doctor their children if I never actually get to meet them— " she gasps for breath now "— okay?!"

"Hmm, yes," Parker hums out, a note or two too lazy to be really as judgmental as it should be, "And if he were Ewan McGregor, it might actually be cute." Poor Jaden. It's really hard not being Ewan McGregor… poor world, really. Except Ewan. With a sad, pitying head-shake that times perfectly with Janet's, he pauses that to wrinkle his nose at the sound of issues and that whole time-consuming angst thing. "Everywhere…" is mused, "And ewww. Who would want to give out diseases, that sounds like a terrible hobby. Not to mention gross. And uncomfortable. I don't get these superpowers sometimes. Especially not that they're, like, real and stuff. Also," and more importantly, "I don't know how I'm feeling about Jolie right now. Hot, right, I get that. Could kick my ass, I get that, too. But… I don't know… there's just something…" His whole monologue, full of ellipses and the like, is considerably less breathless than Janet's and he sucks in a big heaving sigh when she eyes him like that. "Of course, okay, sugarpuff! Do you even have to ask? And whatever to these superpowers, we star in our own movie. Also," he waves a hand at the bags nearby, "several of the ones I've purchased because you know that I hate to waste a DVD such as that whole fiasco where we had to try and erase Meet The Parents but there was all this security stuff in the way… …. yyeeeahhh. That movie is so much better now that it's about Kevin Bacon…"

"Whaaaaaat?! No more Brangelina?!" Janet squeaks and pouts as if this is the most earth shattering thing they've discussed today. "And we should have a party because I can walk again except lets make it epic and have it on the roof then if someone falls off it's even more epic not that we want that to happen but it would just make for a good shot in the tv movie that will one day be made about your life— except maybe it belongs in the theatre because that's more fabulous. I still think Jude Law should play you— he's like English-yummy without being vain looking. You don't look enough like Ewan McGregor for him to pull you off but we all know he's a good actor and could play it convincingly… I wonder who will play me…?" So much for the party idea, Janet has moved onto the movie about their lives.

"I'm thinking about it, I'm thinking about it!" Parker protests as to the infamous celebrity coupling and he winds his way away from Janet to wander near the bags of endless goodies. There's a bit of a kick to one and another to unearth that which he's looking for. "Mmmmm. Jude Law. I could easily look past that he hasn't the hair because I adore him a good deal. Is there such a thing as too attractive for this world? Oh my God… do you think Jude Law has a superpower?" Having retrieved what he wanted, he lifts the little pink bag by his pinkie, not yet delving into it because this new thought merits some time.

"I'm going to have to go back over the List and rethink all of this. Man. So much work, these superpowers. Hey, you don't like… owe Carrie a life debt or anything now, do you? I feel like that's something we should know up front. Incase she comes to collect and you're not here and I am and we all know that a favor for you is like a favor for me and I just don't want to get stuck with the awkwardness of 'soo, about the legs thing… Parker, I guess I'll be needing your new slim jeans'. Because slim jeans equal legs in value. Easily. Because if you didn't have one, there's no point in having the other. Here," there's now a bag being offered to her nonchalantly, "I got us some frozen yogurt but I'm gonna go ahead and guess it's less frozen now so how about: I got us some vaguely room temperature yogurt. It has fruit on the bottom and hope on top."

"Jude Law could have a superpower! Ohmygosh!! Do you think aliens, vampires, and werewolves are real too?! That would be amazing. I mean we have superpowers in the bag and then randomly you find out your mom can turn into a wolf and you can too by proxy but you don't come into it until one day when you're playing with your new puppy you howl along with them and you transform— " Janet's eyes now glaze over. "— and then this tall Vampire-type comes and whisks you off your feet because he can with his awesome undead skin which really is a little overrated— " Staring at the wall, she's now considering the possibilities. Rather disconnectedly, she lifts a single hand to her chest although the other accepts the bag offered while she continues to stare in the the distance. It's not until she feels the bag's full weight that she snaps back, "Oh! Right— I should… get spoons or something… we don't need bowls do we?"

"Yeah, see, that's something I never really understand— would dead skin be that attractive? I understand if they have supernatural allure, okay, right. They can do that. It sounds kind of annoying to be attractive to everything that moves, but fine. But other than that? Really? The coldness, the slight damp feeling I got when I accidentally prodded my aunt Lily during her totally unnecessary open casket viewing? I don't think there's a single vampire I would really want to sweep me off my feet so far, if we're being honest. And I'll only accept werewolves if they don't shed. Or track mud in the house. You better not date a werewolf who tracks mud in our house. Cause you know you can't have a maid if you also have a werewolf boyfriend, they, like— come on. Maids are naturally superstitious. The help will always end up burning down your house or being the first to disappear and be mysteriously found in the background— you're getting a puppy, aren't you? That's what this is. You just dished that WHOLE superhero thing right now to try and pad that you're getting a puppy and it's going to track mud in the house and chew on my clothes." If you didn't know that was all Parker, you should really stop reading right now. But also, Parker shrugs. "No. They, like, come in bowls."

Placing the bag on the coffee table, Janet kind of nods before disappearing into the kitchen. "I kind of want a puppy but the superpowers thing is totally real and we only discussed that because I can walk again, remember? LEGS! Total miracle! And I don't think Carrie wants anything in return other than advice about medical school which I may or may not fail at, you know some of us aren't really designed to give advice, just to chatter and make people feel good." Her voice calls from the kitchen loudly with the clanging of a drawer open and cutlery being retrieved. She returns with two non-spoons. "We ran out of spoons. I figure sporks work, right? I mean it's like a spoon in that it can scoop or it can be prodded like a fork. I've never ate ice cream with a fork. Or non-frozen yogurt… Oh man… I wanna get a puppy! I bet he would be kyooooot! Think of it, he could be like my practice child. Not that I'm ever reproducing. Can you imagine? That spells disaster. And knowing my luck I'd have like a multiple birth and there would be three kids… or one kid with three heads! I don't think that's happened before but that's the way my luck goes for real! You know it! SO. Can we avoid all of that and just get a puppy! I would clean his paws and keep him out of your room!"

There's a bit of a noise from Parker: oh, yeah, legs, right. "I could give her advice about medical school," he suggests sourly, but then yawns right after, sort of ruining the moment. "If I was in any sort of mood to give advice. But, like… this… particularly rapid— " Oh, hey, sporks. Reaching to accept his, he twirls it a bit between his fingers like a tiny baton and then digs for the bag Janet's now got to retrieve one of the plastic-covered containers of half-melted yogurt. It appears to be a pool of yogurt polluted with an unnatural amount of sprinkles. "I don't know, song lark, puppies are, like, work or something. Don't I see people taking them outside sometimes on those… leash things? And, like, more than once a day. That's… a lot." There's a bit of scooping in the mound of sprinkles, mining for some of the yogurt? Nah, he'll just stuff his mouth full of colorful sugary decorations. As he swallows, he gives a kind of lazy sage nod of his head, thinking hard. "That'd probably be more work than feeding a kid with three heads."

"But the staring!! That alone would like waaaay more work think about everyone looking at my three-headed-baby and wondering what Troll I slept with to get that!!" It's Janet's turn to grab a bowl of yogurt. She opens hers and drinks the top soupy-mess like a liquid before tackling any with the spork. "And I would take it on those walks! And I could carry it around in my purse when I don't feel like walking it! And we could give it an awesome name and dress it up and take it places! It'll be super cute!! And maybe we could like teach it tricks or something. Like how to match designer labels— they have to smell different and dogs are really really smart creatures and I know you'd get attached eventually because it'll be cute and fluffy just like your Janalee~"

Parker's groan is likely because he knows that she knows the truth of his likely attachment, but he still avoids the topic by shoveling in more sprinkles and pretending to give it all a good grumpy think. "Some of those purse dogs are really hideous," he attempts to argue, but it's clear that he's sort of lost the momentum since switching attention to the yogurt and: "… yeah, man, what troll did you sleep with to get that? Cause, like, it's either your nerdy-esque rich boyfriend who got some sort of troll disease from your gross ability having sister….. or you're having a secret affair with Mel Gibson, for which I will disown you here and now."

"Ewwwwww. Don't ever. Ever. Ever. Suggest I'm having an affair with Mel Gibson. I might have to disown you," Janet shudders with disgust as her voice cracks. The yogurt, however, distracts her from her dislike once again. "Well mine will be cute. And probably a little large for the purse. And I'll let you help me pick 'im out— you know you love that. Then we can make him like match the furniture and stuff— And we can get him a matching collar and outfits! Honestly, we could like dress this pet and there would be no objections… dressing my three-headed-child, however, would take a lot more work…"

"Errrrrgggggg…. Janet." It's serious when it's her real, full name from Parker's mouth and he bounces a bit against the couch in unhappiness before that sort of threatens his liquid-y yogurt and he has to give up to give a few disdainful sips at the delicious treat. "This dog is going to be cute," he ticks off, lifting a finger to demonstrate, "It's going to be intelligent. It will be named by us and only us. And I reserve the permanent right to kick it out into the hallway — for," a wagging finger to stop any of her objections first, "as long as needed — if — " the finger lowers, he cradles the yogurt bowl again, "it barks during The Princess Bride."

The full-name snaps Janet's attention. She straightens, her eyes widen, and her muscles tense; it's serious business, clearly. Keen ears listen intently to all of the points and her mouth opens to object only to be silenced by the wagging finger. Finally, after Parker has made all of his points, she noisily sucks in a deep breath, "I think that's acceptable. We've reached an agreement then?"

Even by the time Janet comes to her own conclusion about the demands, Parker seems to have forgotten them entirely. His lean having gradually turned into an all-out perch on the back of the couch, he's been eyeing the bags of spare clothes and movies for a bit now and he stretches a long leg to give one of them a nudge until a few plastic-wrapped DVDs threaten to spill out. At her question… he does nothing. A few seconds afterwards, his head rolls over in her direction. "What? Oh, yeah, sure, agreement." Nudge, nudge. "You want to watch Breakfast at Tiffany's or something?"

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