Apr. 2nd, 2012

turnedtoproust: (all smiles: by snowchimes)
Scripps should have known that true horrors lurked in their midst. He'd had proof of that in many aspects -- from the fictional roaming amidst them to the truly horrifying number of opportunities the weather gave Dakin to show off -- but the worst nightmare yet came to him in the form of an inconspicuous reel.

Mamma Mia.

Honestly, how was he to ever have known? And now, the horror is before him, presented in such a fashion that he swears he'll never manage to release the image from behind his burned eyelids. There's truly only one possible solution to this travesty, which is to protect the reel and immediately flee to their hut to find Posner. He's out of breath by the time he arrives, but it's entirely worth it.

"Emergency," he says, nodding back in the direction of the Compound. "Trust me, you'll thank me for it." And already, he's begun to think of the myriad of ways in which he can possibly torture Dakin with this. He wonders if it's possible to somehow arrange for screenings of this, hour on the hour, for the next foreseeable month.


turnedtoproust: (Default)
Donald Scripps

July 2014

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