audio;

[paintjobs]

I am having a serious crisis, and I need help. Hopefully a network full of heroes can provide some kind of relief to a desperate spark in need.

[ oh, sure, he's heard of things like... explosions, death, political debates, and benefits being cut (that's super annoying, actually), but really, there's just one Most Important matter at hand: ]

I think they've stopped making my favorite kind of hair gel. I can't find it anywhere, and trust me, I've checked every store. Shouldn't there be -- I don't know, warehouses full of it somewhere out there? Isn't that how these things work? It doesn't matter -- I need more of it, pronto! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep looking as good as I do without hair gel?!

There'll be some kind of reward in it for you if you can help me out, I'll figure that out later -- just give me a hand here, someone!

Comments

[paintjobs]

Excuse me? Just what are you saying about my hair?

[slightlyoffchilt]

That it could easily be someone's muffler.

[paintjobs]

[ this pause is definitely an OUTRAGED PAUSE, but he soothes himself before speaking again ]

You know — it still amazes me. Some beings can spend their entire lives among their fellow humans on this planet, and still have terrible taste when it comes to the aesthetics of them.

[slightlyoffchilt]

I hear those same individuals are the target consumer group of hair gel.

[Chilton, who clearly uses hair product, considers himself a statistical outlier.]

[paintjobs]

Oh, please. And what do you use, then? Mousse? It wouldn't surprise me.

[slightlyoffchilt]

And why wouldn't that surprise you?

[paintjobs]

You strike me as a mousse-man, doctor.

[slightlyoffchilt]

And how long have you associated mousse with elegant and savvy men?

[paintjobs]

That's a bit of a leap in logic, don't you think?

[paintjobs]

[ then a second later, thoughtfully: ] Though — I will grant you elegant.

[slightlyoffchilt]

That was the most sinister, backhanded way to deliver a compliment.

[paintjobs]

I don't lie, you know. Especially not about aesthetics.

[slightlyoffchilt]

Do I? Know you, that well, I mean. It seems that we're only acquainted under the most dire of situations.

Or, at least, relatively threatening ones.

[Hint hint, he wants to say -- words boiling beneath his heated tension building.]