024 - snakey spam

[fuckitybye]

[Malcolm was en route from the men's bathroom to his room when the flood hit. Now there's a really grumpy (handsomely salt-and-pepper patterned) common European adder (Vipera berus) slithering along the halls. To humans it will sound like he's hissing a lot, but any animals will hear a first-class Malciavellian stream of profanities. Open spam; harass him at will! His eventual destination is the kitchen. Also, I know I owe scheming tags to a bunch of folks; sorry for my fail! I will get to them as soon as I can, promise.]

Comments

[Spam]

[tangentdarko.livejournal.com]

[Donnie flicks around a little until his Barge phone falls out from his layers of fluff. He smacks at it with his paw to type a message, then sits there, waiting for Malcolm to look at it. It reads: 'dsonnuie dsarklo'.]

Re: [Spam]

[fuckitybye]

[Malcolm looks at the name. He vaguely remembers who Donnie is.]

Malcolm Tucker.

[Spam]

[tangentdarko.livejournal.com]

[Donnie's glad that Malcolm is reasonable thus far, and mostly that the snake isn't trying to eat him. He paws at the phone again.

'hopw lkongf doers rthjisd gop ion/'.]

Re: [Spam]

[fuckitybye]

[You're safe, Donnie. Too big to eat. Also, Malcolm shudders to think of the size of the resulting hairball.]

Couple days? Two or three?

[Spam]

[tangentdarko.livejournal.com]

[Hairballs are extra delicious and nutritious, not that Donnie would tell you that.

'hjow doi i stpop iot/'.]

[Spam]

[fuckitybye]

Stop it? Sorry, son. You just got to fucking wait it out.

[Spam]

[tangentdarko.livejournal.com]

[Oh! Oh, that might have been a frown right there!.... But it's impossible to tell.

'ok thganksa'.]

[Spam]

[fuckitybye]

No problem, son. Try not to get eaten, yeah? Some big fucking predators walking around.

[Spam]

[tangentdarko.livejournal.com]

[Donnie makes a ruffle sort of movement that might have been something like a nod, then rolls back over his Barge!phone to make it disappear into his fur again. Then he's on his way down the hall.]