2007-09-23: Ali is Going to Die of SARS

Starring:

McAlister_icon.gif Erin_icon.gif Carmine_icon.gif

Summary: THEY HAVE FLEAS DAMMIT GET THEM OUT OF MY HOUSE AAAAAAH

Date It Happened: 23 SEPTEMBER 2007

Ali is Going to Die of SARS


Erin and Ali's Apartment

It's not yet time for the show.

Important thing, that - eleven-to-ungodly-early means early evening is when Ali's rushing around the house trying to find… her. Giant foam finger. "Seriously. Have you seen it?" Comes the call from the hall, where the closet door stands open. "Mike is gonna /kill/ me if I don't find it."

Rummaging ensues. And, seriously, she doesn't even /have/ anything in that closet. Well, except the box on the top shelf that's waaay too small to have a Giant Foam Finger in it.

—-

Erin is lying on the couch with a script. She's incredibly unhelpful, notoriously lazy when she needs to actually have her ass moving. But she worked all day. In fact, the traces of red 'blood' can still be seen in her hair. She'll have to take a shower eventually, but for now, she's memorising tomorrow's lines.

"Alyssa. It's radio," she says. "If you don't have a giant foam finger, you can fold up a couple sheets of paper and pretend." Snappish, as usual. Even so - and with great theatrics and a tonne of effort - she sighs, pushing herself to her feet. "I'll look in the fridge," she says. Because one never knows.

—-

He would've made this trip sooner, but there was an issue with some illness in the litter and he wanted to make sure the kittens were totally healthy and vaccinated (and housebroken) before going to their new homes. And nevermind that nobody gave him their addresses; Carmine has connections. Quite unaware of the chaos inside the apartment — and armed with a large basket of feline starter goodies tucked under one arm and two balls of feline fluff in the other — the stone-faced mafia man approaches the door and gives it an authoritative knock. He could be delivering a box of bricks for all the emotion he shows.

—-

"… in the.." Ali leans back, peers at the corner of the couch she can see. "Why would it be in the fridge?" A pause.

"Look, I told you why the paint was in there. You're going to hold that over my head for months, aren't you." A grin comes with that as she heads for the door, then - "And this is a /bet/. It's just one of those things - christ. Why do you put up with me? Honestly - oh. Are they finally getting around to the date scene, or are you stuck with more pining?"

A pause, then a bawled back, "he's not coming to take you on a date, is he?" Yes. That can be heard through the door. Perhaps intentionally so.

—-

"Because you're you," is Erin's reply. And while she doesn't find the finger in the fridge, she does find it inside the stove, which is the obvious place for a giant foam finger - god knows that's the first place anyone would look for such a thing. Granted, when you're doing a rush cleaning job, things end up in weird places. The object is tossed in Ali's general direction.

"Actually years," Erin returns as she heads for the door, though there's a hint of a smile to indicate that she's not truly annoyed. "And I can't tell you about the show, except when I do." In other words, later is better when there are people at the door. Opening the door, she says, "You'll have to excuse her, she's delusional," to whomever is outside, then she frowns. Oh, god, she knows this guy! "You. Have cats."

—-

Oh yes, he's here to take her on a date. He brought kitten food, litter, cat toys, and a warm blanket as well as two kittens to woo her. Absolutely. Carmine's expression does not change except the minutest lift of one eyebrow, and when the door finally opens, he remains stoic. The obvious statement rolls right off his back.

"Yes," he utters blandly. "It took so long to deliver them because they had a case of worms, but they're clean now." And then he holds out basket and kittens toward Erin. "Here you go." Happy birthday!

—-

Ali, from deeper in the apartment, scrambles for that finger, laughing - "I am not del… cats?" Bounce, bound - and she's heading for that door. "Seriously? With everything I just about forgot - Hi!" That's offered, bubbly and bright, to the fellow in the hall with the basket.

—-

How. Do you say no. To a man handing you kittens? "I— Th— " She says, because she's wholly against the idea of pets, however, the protest against cats led to an argument which very nearly cause Erin to leap to her DEATH off a ninth floor balcony. That would have sucked. That the cats are now here and not forgotten about strikes the actress dumb. Quickly, she takes the basket, because with her hands occupied thusly, the only one left to take the cats is her roommate. Erin did say they could have one. MAYBE two. But she never thought — "Oh, there's two," she says, as if noting this as some great revelation, while at the same time giving Ali the 'I'm going to murder you while you sleep' look.

—-

Yes, two, and one is calico. Carmine holds the kittens out to McAlister without much whupdeedoo. "Hi." It's less than bubbly and bright. It is, in fact, flat and dull. At Erin's statement of how many there are, his eyes move to her. "Is that going to be a problem?"

The question is posed in such a way that would suggest that the correct answer is "no absolutely no problem whatsoever … sir." Not that he means to be imposing or threatening — it just happens.

—-

Ali utterly misses the statement of problemhood - or maybe she's just from Jersey and /expects/ that sort of thing. Or maybe it's the two bundles of /cute/.

That are carefully taken, and much loved-over. "Oh, they're gorgeous! Thank you so much. Have you named them yet? A lot of folks don't, I know."

—-

IS IT A PROBLEM!? "Yes! It's… Not a problem," Erin states, after noting the look on Carmine's face. This is one of those Don't Argue, Just Do It situations, and despite the fact that there are two, she will live. Unfortunately, with Ali working tonight, the task falls to Erin to make sure the don't pee all over the carpets. HELL. However, the calico is truly adorable, and she might even be able to get used to having it around. If she doesn't steal it from her roomma— NO. SHE HATES CATS.

—-

Good, not a problem.

"No, I didn't." Yes, he did. They were sensible and beautiful Italian names, but Carmine isn't going to share them. That would imply that he's attached somehow. And he's totally not. "They're litter-trained, vaccinated, and de-wormed. The papers are in the basket. Take good care of them." Or else. And with that, his delivery done, the Italian turns to leave.

—-

"Thank you, so much - " Ali noses-to-noses with the non-calico of the pair, then the other - laughing - "They're so /sweet!/" And of course, she bounds back for the room, bearing felines. "Alright. I think /you/" - she says to the little grey - "are impossible." She looks back, calling to Erin - "Dibs on the grey one."

—-

What just happened? Did just just have no control over the number of cats coming into her house!? WHAT. As she bids Carmine good day, she gently shuts the door, trying to figure out if this is just one of those dreams that seems real, but, no. It appears there's a basket in her hand, and that she's just been given two kittens. Since her default setting is 'angry,' when she turns to glare daggers at Ali, her eyes are glowing. Rrrr!

—-

Ali… plus two very cute fluffballs.. all look up at Erin with Big Eyes as they settle together on the couch. "Okay. You can name the grey one if you /want/. Honest. I'm not /that/ picky - I just like him. Her." She checks. "Her."

—-

She'll look back on this day and wonder just how she managed to keep her temper. It couldn't be the kittens - there's no way they're melting her heart of ice! Which has become much less icy over the years, but that's beside the point. The cats are adorable, and there's no way in hell she could endanger them. Her eyes return to their mundane old blue she sighs, and snatches the script up off the couch. She will not be won over so easily! "I'll be in my room," Erin grumps, giving the wall a good smack on her way down the hallway. Three seconds later, there's an earth-shattering slam.

—-

A roomate and two cats cringe, and sort of take up the smallest possible space on the couch, there, for a moment. And Ali.. utterly uncertain, proffers to the calico - "… honest. She's really nice. I promise. She's a friend, too - and she'll like you." A pause, "I hope." A breath. "okay, you two - let's see about a litterbox."

Not that she moves, yet - she just holds the two cats very close, finally letting them down when the calico squirms to go exploring. Reluctantly.

A little lonely? Maybe. But Ali puts on a smile anyway, and heads for the basket. "We need /names/ for you two - and a vet. I don't suppose you guys know a vet, huh?"

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