002 ( video )

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( Hay kids. It's that one loser, looking considerably cleaner, better fed and more relaxed than her first post. Part of it's pretence and part of it is being better fed, but whatever.

Today, Tara's posture is a lazy slouch against the side of her sofa, bottle of beer in hand. )

Okay, so-- possibly a personal question. How many of you dudes are from worlds where everything's kinda gone to Hell? Apocalypse-style, y'know? Like, uh, I dunno. Everyone simultaneously woke up with Donald Trump hair, or meteors hit, or there's an undead shit-storm unfolding outside.

( A casual shrug. Seems like it might be less crazy a thing here than she thought. )

And, part two: what's the best thing about the world ending? 'Cause, I mean, I kinda miss living off ramen and canned stuff being a win instead of a basis for judgment.

( Hmm. Tara takes a swig of her beer. Maybe she is a bit less okay then she seems, but that's basically what her life is all about. )

Gotta find the bright side, right?

Comments

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What, dude?

( Is she being obnoxious? Yes she is. )

[aggressiveapathy]

We need to find a lawn turtle. That's a fountain. God. Lawn fountains are so stupid.

[ And so they must burn, apparently. ]

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Oh, yeah. Especially when there's a baby angel with a jug of water. Or a fishing dwarf.

( But, uh. She looks down at the stuff in her hands. )

Fountains are gonna be heavy.

( And they need to get it to the beach before it can burn. )

[aggressiveapathy]

I can summon back-up.

[ Because there are always more raccoons to find. ]

Or- what even are your powers again? Pyromania?

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God bless America.

( Or God Bless Racoons. Whatever. )

Uh, you don't want me summoning what I can summon.

( Wait. Damn it. Drinking let her talk too much. ) But I can heal stuff, apparently, so if you put out your back like an old lady, I gotcha.

[aggressiveapathy]

Is it bees? Rabies ticks? Dude-bros named Blaine that have to stuff a sock down there so they don't cry at night?

[ Sorry, girl. She's shifting the frog in her arms so she can give you a look and try to solve this summoning thing. ]

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( April, please. Tara gives her a look right back, as they walk. )

It's Jimmy Buffet.

( if only )

[aggressiveapathy]

I just threw up a little in my mouth.

[ Music from before the 90s? why. This whole 'she would even think of that' thing is too distressing to call her out as a liar. ]

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And John Farnham.

( oh no )

[aggressiveapathy]

Oh my god, are you, like, secretly 90?

[ April is stopping in the middle of the road, Flamingo bounty on her back swaying gently due to the sudden halt, and just looking at the other woman. ]

Was your end-times just living in the 80s forever?

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Busted.

( Tara snorts, and shakes her head. )

No, there is a God. ( The Eighties would be so much worse. ) The apocalypse destroyed all proof jazzercise was ever a thing.

[aggressiveapathy]

So long as Bieber and the Black Eyed Peas went with it.

[ Okay, they can start walking again. Even if she gets an occasional suspicious glance. ]

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He could be why the world ended.

( A few long moments, before: )

Bonnie Tyler, too.