2007-07-20: He Feels Pretty?


Meryl_icon.gif Niel_icon.gif


Meryl thinks Niel's toes need to be pretty. She also talks about making contact with and possibly bagging and tagging Namir. Niel is not gay.

Date It Happened: July 20th, 2007

He Feels Pretty?

Kirby Plaza Building

It's Sunday. There's not a whole lot to do on a day like this, except, well, her job, but that's boring, and besides, she made contact with someone - of of them and should really be sharing that information with someone. Not that he's really a threat, and he's a damn nice guy, besides! (He did, after all, allow her to coerce him into buying her a coffee) but still, she feels obligated to report said sighting. He was a little dense, since she did call him an alien and all that, and it seemed to go right over his head… Ah, well. All in a day's work. And then she was completely wired afterward, since the coffee he bought her contained no less than ten sugars after she got through with it.

It was at some point during the day that Meryl located Niel. Asleep. Feet propped up on a conference table.

Somehow, she managed to evict his feet from his shoes - just to see if she could do it without waking him up - and then she decided that he had really ugly feet, and something had to be done about that. It just so happened that she had pink nail polish with her - a woman is always prepared - and she went to town on those toenails.

Unfortunately, it's easier to pain your own piggies than someone else's, which means Niel's got one foot full of pink toes already, and now Meryl's halfway through the other one.

Unfortunately, having been living on coffee for the past few days, Niel is really, really asleep. It's easy to crash after having not really slept for three days straight. He even snores! And doesn't notice that his shoes have been removed. He didn't notice that his toes were being painted either, but the continued sensation and the smell of nail polish is slowwwwwly starting to rouse him. That tickling feeling is starting to register as not the dog, and he realizes that he's not actually at home. It's around this time that he opens his eyes. It takes a little while to focus on the activity around his feet. A lot of squinting and blinking and rubbing of the eyes is involved. Then? Then he's suddenly very, very awake. He jerks his feet away with a mumbled cry of, "The hell?!"


Actually, Meryl doesn't seem surprised by this rude awakening in the least. "Hi, Niel!" she says cheerfully, setting the polish on the table on which his feet were previously propped. "That's better, isn't it? Now you don't look like such a caveman. Anyway, I had to talk to you about this guy I met at Starbucks, but I didn't want to wake you up, so I sat here, and I was kind of starting to get bored, you know? So I was all, 'maybe I can walk to the vending machines,' but then what if you were gone by the time I got back?"

Better?! It's pink. And he doesn't spend much time around the kids at home, but he's seen enough of Susan to know that this stuff doesn't come off easy. Niel stares down at his painted toenails with something akin to shock and horror (sleepy shock and horror). Most of what Meryl says goes right past him. "Goddamn it. This is never going to come off." Glancing up and around he adds, "Where are my shoes?"

"Of course it'll come off. If you'd like, I'll make it easy and just cut off your toes. Walking would be difficult, and people might call you Toeless Joe Jackson, but if pink isn't your colour, it could be worth it." She pats her pockets as if looking for a knife, but shrugs when she comes up empty-handed. "Or you could just use nail polish remover. Here." Reaching into her purse, she pulls out a little bottle of the stuff, that smells strongly of acetate when opened. And while his shoes are very clearly right next to him on the floor, it's moch more fun to say, "I fed them to the lion." …so she does.

Whoa God, this stuff smells worse than the nail polish itself. But Niel isn't about to complain. Lacking cotton swabs, he simply decides to wet his fingers with the stuff and start wiping away. No longer panicking about his ruined toesies, he starts backtracking through that large block of speech Meryl had thrown at him earlier. Wait a second. "What guy in Starbucks?" he asks as he washes away nail polish.

"One of them," she says, leaning back in her chair, arm draped across the back. "Nothing spectacular, I just remember seeing a picture. Don't remember what he can do, but I did get him to buy me a coffee, and that's the important part." Plus, she had to make sure it was the right guy, so… yeah, making him buy her something was conducive to her master plan. It might have been wise if she stuck around to see if he reacted to the name, but… Eh. "So we bring him in, right? I attached a high-tech tracking device to the inside of his shoe, that he'll never find. Except I really didn't, because I didn't have one on me. Do you think I could lure him here with the promise of free HBO for the rest of his life? I could do that, you know."

With most of the nail polish successfully removed and most of his grogginess gone, Niel is more capable of paying attention to the conversation. He just stares at Meryl for a moment, trying to sift through all that. Finally, he manages to formulate a response and shakes his head. "I don't know. Do you think he's dangerous?" Aside from being an alien, that is. With a death ray in his phone.

Dangerous? "No, not at all, but he's adorable, and I want to pinch his cheeks." Leaning forward on the table, she puts her hands on her face and squishes her lips together, effectively making a fish-face at Niel. "Like I said, I don't know what he does. Can't anything be dangerous, though? I mean, even flying. You could use flying for a life of crime. And last time I checked, most police officers can't chase you through the stratosphere. Could be a good idea to evaluate him. His name's Namir Somethingrother. Any idea what he does? I know you've got our whole file memorised, because your head is huge, which means you must have a large brain with a high capacity. You know Apple is developing a one terabyte iPod? Do you consider Apple a threat to your supreme intelligence? Are you from Mars?"

"I don't know what he does. Have a talk with Suresh or Aldric or one of the shrinks around here. Maybe they can tell you something." That whole bit about a big head and Apple's tetrabyte iPod just gets another strange look from Niel. "My head's not huge." At least he doesn't think so. "You wanna bring him in, I'm not stopping you. But I've got other stuff to do. Maybe one of the freaks around here will give you a hand, or hell, if he's not really dangerous, you could probably get him in yourself."

"You almost sound as if helping me is a conflict of personal interest," she says, still making that fish-face, with an added smile thrown in for emphasis. "Or maybe you're shy? Granted he is a reasonably attractive man. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me, Niel!" At this point, she does stand up, reaches for her nail polish, then… pushes it at the table toward him. "Guys dig the pink. Seriously. You can keep this if you need to. I can always get more." And now she has a MISSION. She must speak with either What's-his-name or Who'sit, and with the attention span of a goldfish, she's already lost the name in her early-model IBM twenty megabyte brain capacity.

Wait, WHAT? "Wh— what secret? I'm not gay!" Niel even had pizza with her! Totally not gay!

Meryl reaches across to give buddy a pat on the shoulder. "Of course you're not, Niel, dear." He's only a health-food nut with a marriage on the rocks, and he even had his toenails painted pink! THERE'S YOUR SIGN. Meryl winks, because she really won't tell! …Much.

Niel is just fit and likes to keep it that way. And that last one doesn't count because his toenails were painted involuntarily. Now he just looks plain exasperated. "I'm not." Because he gets the funny feeling that she doesn't believe him. "You want me to prove it, I will. Right here, right now." Or will he? He hasn't slept with anyone since sometime after his marriage.

For a single moment, Meryl looks at him as if she might be serious about making him prove this whole thing where he's totally not, and then she slaps the table, while totally failing to hold back a laugh, that ends up sounding like a raspberry SNORT of some kind. "Oh my God, you should have seen the look on your face!" she says through her laughter, raising one hand to half-point at him.

… This is Niel not being amused. Not really. He takes the laughter with a stony expression that borders on the long-suffering. Then, he picks up one of his socks, balls it up, and flings it at Meryl. "Get outta here before I paint your face pink," he grunts. It sounds lighthearted enough.

Oh. Hey now! No need for violence! No one can take a joke around here! It's like everyone's serious all the time. You know, like they're supposed to be. "All right, all right, cool it, I'm going." She picks up her purse, puts the nail polish back inside, and also takes his sock. See what you do without a sock, Niel! The shoe is on the other foot NOW, isn't it? Or the sock, or whatever. And with a "Hmph!" she turns on her heel and starts for the nearest exit.

Wh— hey! As soon as it becomes apparent that Meryl is making off with his sock, Niel bolts to his (bare) feet. "Hey, give me my sock back!" he protests as he starts after her.

"It's not yours anymore! You gave it to me!" Meryl states as she starts off at a much quicker pace. She'll add it to her collection, which is newly started, of which Niel's sock is the first item in it!

It's very undignified to go chasing people without shoes on, so Niel only stops in the doorway to the conference room. "Wh— I didn— !" And that's where he stays, staring after Meryl. "I want that back!" he calls after her before retreating back to his seat to put on his shoes and sock (singular). He probably has an extra pair somewhere. After all, he lives at work, right?

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