It's the Staywell. He can't remember what happened before he woke up, but it's still the Staywell, just half-collapsed and surrounded by dark, stale air. Or is it the Staywell again? As Nicholas steps up into what should be a second floor but instead appears to be a second lobby, he decides that again is probably the right word. Is this why they found their own things in those ravines, months ago? Because the Staywell is built on the Staywell which is built on the Staywell?
More importantly, how the fuck did he get down here?
"Hey! Anyone?"
So far, no one has been home.
damn fine pie
He'd expected the graveyard, honestly. Nicholas blinks up at the waiter.
"Er, thanks?" He is actually pretty hungry. As long as it's actually cherry pie, and not ketchup pie, or something worse.
He glances around for a booth with someone else in it, and heads for the nearest one. Probably no one knows what's going on, but probably someone has a better idea than he does.
how hard could it be?
The longer Nicholas considers the bull from his seat at the bar, the stupider the whole idea seems. Sure, there's not much padding on the mechanical bull, and the thing's probably slippery. But it doesn't move that fast, really. It's not so big that you can't get a good grip on it.
He turns to the person seated next to him. "Hey, could you make sure no one takes my drink?"
Even if he wins a fancy drink, he would like to finish the tequila.
Nicholas D. Wolfwood | Trigun Maximum
It's the Staywell. He can't remember what happened before he woke up, but it's still the Staywell, just half-collapsed and surrounded by dark, stale air. Or is it the Staywell again? As Nicholas steps up into what should be a second floor but instead appears to be a second lobby, he decides that again is probably the right word. Is this why they found their own things in those ravines, months ago? Because the Staywell is built on the Staywell which is built on the Staywell?
More importantly, how the fuck did he get down here?
"Hey! Anyone?"
So far, no one has been home.
damn fine pie
He'd expected the graveyard, honestly. Nicholas blinks up at the waiter.
"Er, thanks?" He is actually pretty hungry. As long as it's actually cherry pie, and not ketchup pie, or something worse.
He glances around for a booth with someone else in it, and heads for the nearest one. Probably no one knows what's going on, but probably someone has a better idea than he does.
how hard could it be?
The longer Nicholas considers the bull from his seat at the bar, the stupider the whole idea seems. Sure, there's not much padding on the mechanical bull, and the thing's probably slippery. But it doesn't move that fast, really. It's not so big that you can't get a good grip on it.
He turns to the person seated next to him. "Hey, could you make sure no one takes my drink?"
Even if he wins a fancy drink, he would like to finish the tequila.