( He literally hasn't even had time to pull up the swipey-keyboard on his phone. Which is fine, this is faster anyway.
There lies ya boi, sprawled out on his bed with a book on his chest, doing what he assumes was reading and not sleeping, which he... apparently does? That's still so fucking weird.
He clocks the excitement. Clocks the sword. Clocks the buttons, which — oh, god. )
[ He pauses, considers Jack's answer after the fact, then corrects himself. ]
Well, yeah, totally at some point — but that's later! We're gonna investigate some — wait for it... [ He holds up an index finger, brows slowly climbing upward, mouth agape, waiting for this imagined perfect moment for the reveal. Probably a few seconds too long, just long enough to wonder if Jerry even remembers what he was going to— ] We're gonna be electricians!
[ He may have purposefully hyped that up knowing full well it sounds like the dullest thing you could do. But hey, he wants to help and he doesn't want to go alone. That's totally boring. That's the reason he drags anyone, namely Jack, around to do anything. ]
Don't know if you heard but long story short some decorative lights might be responsible for a string of unusual injuries and or death. So, pretty standard fare "some bullshit's going down in time for the holidays" type deal.
( Why does he ever actually try guessing? Why does he ever think he could know the answer when Jerry asks that? Electricians — Jack just blinks, leaving Jerry plenty of time to jump into his explanation. )
That sounds... awful. Like a really, really bad idea. ( And yet, here he is putting his book down and slowly sitting up — hair all a-ruffle from the pillow like a disgruntled bird. It's for the conversation, he tells himself. He's just sitting up to be polite. ) Jerry, I don't know the first thing about— being an electrician. If I'm being totally honest, I only have like two percent of an idea of how electricity even works. Don't take a bubble bath with a toaster, and don't pee on an electric fence. That's it, that's the extent of my knowledge.
Correction— don't pee on an electric fence unless you're triple dog dared to.
[ Just thought he should clear that up. ]
Anyway, you don't have to know jack, Jack! Just stand there and look pretty and maybe let me know if you see anything freaky.
[ Jerry tops off his very reassuring assurance by further missing up Jack's already mussed up hair with a confident grin. Yeah, this is happening. They're doing this. ]
( Ah yes, of course, the good old Triple Dog Dare clause. How could he have forgotten. Silly him. )
Well, that first part's definitely out. But I guess I can-
( What are you doing, Jack? Skrrt, backpedal. )
No, no. No. We're not getting involved. Every time we get involved in a thing, something happens. We're definitely, one hundred percent not doing this.
( Fast-forward half an hour, and there they are. Doing this. Getting involved. Did he just- did he black out that whole period of time, or did his mind do him the solid of glossing over it like a comedic jump-cut to save him the mental effort of a futile argument?
[ And the sole reason Jerry lets Jack insist vehemently that they're not getting involved is because he already knows they are absolutely getting involved. It's just the way they work.
Ignoring Jack's self admonishment, Jerry turns to his best friend and rubs his hands together a little too mischievously considering they're here to, you know, be helpful. ]
'Kay, here's the deal. My name is Hugh Jass, the real inventor of crocs, but I was paid off a hefty sum to never mention it again. And you're Heywood Jablomie, my lovable and endearing Protégé with a heart of gold. Literally, your heart is made of gold, which makes you the most valuable man in the world and impervious to a shot to the heart! We kinda do the whole electrician thing to lay low.
( Sometimes he hates the way they work. Most of the time. Almost all of it. Usually.
He's pretty sure if he had a heart made of literal gold he'd be dead in about two seconds, unless there's some logistics involved that he doesn't know about to somehow make it beat. There's no real point arguing that, though, probably. Instead, he's going to focus on the actual reason they're— )
Wait, the real inventor of crocs? There was a fake inventor? Who'd actually take credit for inventing crocs? Those are abominations in the eyes of the Dark God.
[ Considering the homeowner of the lights they're here to check out has just stepped onto their friend porch and is now watching them, waiting for them to come in and get this over with, they should probably just...do that.
Instead, Jerry is going take the time to look and sound as offended as possible at Jack's slanderous words. ]
Jack...have you ever worn a pair of crocs?
[ This is a serious conversation that they MUST have now. ]
[ When the owner clears their throat Jerry passes them a glance, turning back to Jack and POINTEDLY pointing at him! ]
We're picking this up later.
[ Expect for Jerry to suddenly bring up crocs at probably another terrible moment.
At Jack's nudging, Jerry clears his throat as well, much louder than the home owner's, just as a show of dominance of course, and approaches the porch with a wide grin. ]
Sorry we're late, but the last house we were checking out had wiring so faulty it nearly killed everyone inside. Luckily good old Haywood was here — don't let the appearance fool you, he's been shocked so many times he's practically immune. Anyway, where's the problem?
[ It's no surprise when the home owner takes a moment to just...stare at the two, probably contemplating if they were better off not letting them into the house, but eventually they're led inside and down a hallway to what looks like the livingroom. The owner makes it a point not to step inside. It's dark, and there's a long rope of lights sprawled out in the middle of the floor as if someone unplugged them in a hurry. ]
Well, there's your problem. It's not plugged in!
[ "The problem is when they are plugged in..."
That's all that's said before the homeowner nervously retreats down the hall, deciding to wait closer to the front door. With them out of earshot, Jerry turns to Jack. ]
Guess I'll check this out. Stay out here and Casper Van Dien me if it looks like shit's about to go down. Also if I die make sure I'm in a badass pose. No, a hilarious pose — no, a dramatic one — you know what, just use your best judgment.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
what is time, its a manmade construct
There lies ya boi, sprawled out on his bed with a book on his chest, doing what he assumes was reading and not sleeping, which he... apparently does? That's still so fucking weird.
He clocks the excitement.
Clocks the sword.
Clocks the buttons, which — oh, god. )
Chop watermelons in half?
its a lie
[ He pauses, considers Jack's answer after the fact, then corrects himself. ]
Well, yeah, totally at some point — but that's later! We're gonna investigate some — wait for it... [ He holds up an index finger, brows slowly climbing upward, mouth agape, waiting for this imagined perfect moment for the reveal. Probably a few seconds too long, just long enough to wonder if Jerry even remembers what he was going to— ] We're gonna be electricians!
[ He may have purposefully hyped that up knowing full well it sounds like the dullest thing you could do. But hey, he wants to help and he doesn't want to go alone. That's totally boring. That's the reason he drags anyone, namely Jack, around to do anything. ]
Don't know if you heard but long story short some decorative lights might be responsible for a string of unusual injuries and or death. So, pretty standard fare "some bullshit's going down in time for the holidays" type deal.
no subject
That sounds... awful. Like a really, really bad idea. ( And yet, here he is putting his book down and slowly sitting up — hair all a-ruffle from the pillow like a disgruntled bird. It's for the conversation, he tells himself. He's just sitting up to be polite. ) Jerry, I don't know the first thing about— being an electrician. If I'm being totally honest, I only have like two percent of an idea of how electricity even works. Don't take a bubble bath with a toaster, and don't pee on an electric fence. That's it, that's the extent of my knowledge.
no subject
[ Just thought he should clear that up. ]
Anyway, you don't have to know jack, Jack! Just stand there and look pretty and maybe let me know if you see anything freaky.
[ Jerry tops off his very reassuring assurance by further missing up Jack's already mussed up hair with a confident grin. Yeah, this is happening. They're doing this. ]
no subject
Well, that first part's definitely out. But I guess I can-
( What are you doing, Jack? Skrrt, backpedal. )
No, no. No. We're not getting involved. Every time we get involved in a thing, something happens. We're definitely, one hundred percent not doing this.
( Fast-forward half an hour, and there they are. Doing this. Getting involved. Did he just- did he black out that whole period of time, or did his mind do him the solid of glossing over it like a comedic jump-cut to save him the mental effort of a futile argument?
Does it matter? They're here now. )
Aw, damn it. Stupid... brain.
no subject
Ignoring Jack's self admonishment, Jerry turns to his best friend and rubs his hands together a little too mischievously considering they're here to, you know, be helpful. ]
'Kay, here's the deal. My name is Hugh Jass, the real inventor of crocs, but I was paid off a hefty sum to never mention it again. And you're Heywood Jablomie, my lovable and endearing Protégé with a heart of gold. Literally, your heart is made of gold, which makes you the most valuable man in the world and impervious to a shot to the heart! We kinda do the whole electrician thing to lay low.
no subject
He's pretty sure if he had a heart made of literal gold he'd be dead in about two seconds, unless there's some logistics involved that he doesn't know about to somehow make it beat. There's no real point arguing that, though, probably. Instead, he's going to focus on the actual reason they're— )
Wait, the real inventor of crocs? There was a fake inventor? Who'd actually take credit for inventing crocs? Those are abominations in the eyes of the Dark God.
no subject
Instead, Jerry is going take the time to look and sound as offended as possible at Jack's slanderous words. ]
Jack...have you ever worn a pair of crocs?
[ This is a serious conversation that they MUST have now. ]
no subject
( He says with the utmost solemnity. It's not like Jack has any eye for fashion, but even he knows crocs are beyond redemption.
The homeowner continues to stare, then clears their throat to say, "Um. Are you guys here to do... anything?"
Anything other than stand around talking — it doesn't take a genius to fill in that gap. He nudges Jerry with an elbow. )
Come on, Hugh. Do the thing where you talk to people so I don't have to.
no subject
We're picking this up later.
[ Expect for Jerry to suddenly bring up crocs at probably another terrible moment.
At Jack's nudging, Jerry clears his throat as well, much louder than the home owner's, just as a show of dominance of course, and approaches the porch with a wide grin. ]
Sorry we're late, but the last house we were checking out had wiring so faulty it nearly killed everyone inside. Luckily good old Haywood was here — don't let the appearance fool you, he's been shocked so many times he's practically immune. Anyway, where's the problem?
[ It's no surprise when the home owner takes a moment to just...stare at the two, probably contemplating if they were better off not letting them into the house, but eventually they're led inside and down a hallway to what looks like the livingroom. The owner makes it a point not to step inside. It's dark, and there's a long rope of lights sprawled out in the middle of the floor as if someone unplugged them in a hurry. ]
Well, there's your problem. It's not plugged in!
[ "The problem is when they are plugged in..."
That's all that's said before the homeowner nervously retreats down the hall, deciding to wait closer to the front door. With them out of earshot, Jerry turns to Jack. ]
Guess I'll check this out. Stay out here and Casper Van Dien me if it looks like shit's about to go down. Also if I die make sure I'm in a badass pose. No, a hilarious pose — no, a dramatic one — you know what, just use your best judgment.
[ Yes, this will surely go well. ]