Tag O'Donal

If I could find a way to see this straight, I'd run away.

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

Well. I live with my grandma, so. I guess you could say that makes me the most eligible sort of bachelor. And, please, that whole ‘I’m a hardworking yet humble and self aware family man, now I’m going to look at you with my spring pool eyes’ is vaguely intimidating. Definitely wipe-your-hands-on-a-napkin worthy.

No, that’s okay. I like bold. General status? As the employee of an all-purple bookstore and number one patron of Westin’s bakery? And… you know me not letting go of your hand even after we got off the ferris wheel was the signal, right? 

[cometagalong]

Ah, yeah, haha, I guess you’ve got me pegged. I mean, not in a sexual way, I just meant...I bet you’re a lot better with words than I am. 

Well, Westin’s is a step up from Luke’s. Because of the croissants, you know. Don’t ever tell Luke I said that. If you do I’ll have to revert back to my high school jock days and pound you. Again, not in a sexual way, just, umm...oh, geez.

Hey, speaking of which, what are the odds that you’re interested in Rugby? The Stars Hollow Men’s Rugby team has a big match coming up against Woodbridge soon, and we’re totally going to get creamed but Taylor made buttons again and, you know, I could totally get you the hookup with VIP seats, which mostly just means the top row of the bleachers, but you know...there’s popcorn, too. 

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

Years? You think that thing has years left? If she hears those words come out of your mouth, there is a very high chance she’ll like you more than me. You have got to stop offering me favors, I’m starting to think you have ulterior motives or something. But yeah, okay, I’ll swing by. Thanks. Again.

A date, huh? I guess I can go with that. I was going to order waffle fries and wipe my hands on my shirt, but I’m a roll with the punches kind of guy. 

[cometagalong]

Ulterior motives? No, I don’t have any ulterior motives. What ulterior motives could I have anyway? I’m like, basically a single father, which everyone knows makes me the least eligible sort of bachelor. Plus, I don’t even have a cute kid, I have a very uncute teenager with an really, really unfortunate affinity for Aze spray. So...yeah. Date. No pressure. No expectations. Wipe your hands on whatever you want.

I’m sorry, I’m not usually so bold, I just figured, you know, with the festival and the ferris wheel and stuff that it wouldn’t be, you know, crazy to go on a date, until I thought about it for like 4 or 5 seconds, at which point it became really crazy, because of, you know, your handsomeness and just general status and also because of the grease that is still beneath my fingernails. 

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

Too busy to help you take preventative measures against home invasion by a certified psycho? What could possibly be more important? Oh no, I am not dumb enough to put anything on my face that has been in contact with Kirk. Thank you, though, I think you have really handsome skin. The rest of you is pretty handsome too. 

Today is tofu day and two of my sisters grew up began so I don’t eat tofu until I absolutely have to, so let’s stick with Luke’s. You can drive, I’m driving gran’s clunker and didn’t you say that was going to be maxed out within the week? Trying to wring the most life out of it possible. Space out these visits to the shop so I don’t look like a complete stalker. 

[cometagalong]

My hero. 

Cool, Luke’s it is. Really, Brayden, you can just leave your grandma’s car with me. I don’t mind taking a look at it and, you know, tuning up a couple of things, help you squeeze a couple more years out of it. It’s not like I’d charge you or anything, you know. It’s the least I could do for my own personal stalker. 

Also, just so there’s no confusion, I’m definitely paying for lunch, so you know...this is gonna be a date. I hope that’s not a deal breaker for you. 

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

Oh no, he knows where you live? Well that’s that then. Prepare for a phone call when his mother inevitably kicks him out asking if your basement is occupied. Then expect 30 more follow up phone calls, and a complimentary case of his toxic skincare line ‘Hay There’. 

We better get out of here quick before he sees and decides to follow us. Ah, well, gran always wacks me over the head with a Penguin classic and accuses me of being in the way anyways, so you might actually be doing the store a favor. She’s good, though, thanks for asking. How’s Joel? Is he enjoying A Separate Peace?

Huh, so you’re not buying my ‘I was just in the neighborhood even though this road takes almost twice as long as Peach Street, which is a direct route from the bookstore’ story? I thought I had it all figured out. 

[cometagalong]

Busy tomorrow morning? Wanna help me go pick out a german shepherd/pitbull/rottweiler mix? Suddenly I feel like I need one. A really mean one, with really huge teeth. I really hope for your sake that you’re not speaking from experience. I mean, obviously you’re not, you have great skin, clearly never touched by Hay There. I mean, you know...great, really manly skin. Not like leathery or anything, that’s not what I meant, it’s just, you know...handsome. You have really handsome...umm...skin. 

Umm...so, should I drive? Or did you want to go to Al’s Pancake World. Oh, wait, isn’t today the thirteenth? He always does tofu on the thirteenth and I can’t stand it. Unless you like, love tofu, in which case I could probably learn to like it. I mean, we all start off not liking almost everything except macaroni and cheese, right? Not that I remember, but Joel only ate mac and cheese until he was like eight, so like, I could maybe learn to like tofu. He’s fine, though. I mean, I doubt he’s actually been reading anything, but you know, it’s fine. If he flunks out he can always join a circus. That’s where he belongs, anyway. 

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

Hey, feel free to continue, I actually feel kind of bad interrupting such an impassioned speech. Exactly how many times has he come to you with this air freshener problem? And how many of those times has he blamed it on his mother, cat Kirk, or small woodland elves?

Sorry to disappoint. Hi. This is, um… kind of weird. And unplanned. But I was about to grab a burger at Luke’s, and I saw you here, and it doesn’t seem like a terrible time to take a lunch break, so… I was just wondering if you wanted to join me? 

[cometagalong]

Seven. Eight if you count the moment when he just so happened to show up on my front porch this morning while I was cooking eggs, claiming that he wandered over in pursuit of some rare butterfly. I swear I don’t have an anger management issue, but he could really drive a guy to drink. ...I also do not have a drinking problem. 

Please. Seeing you darkening my doorway instead of Kirk is pretty far from a disappointment. You know what? Lunch sounds great. I would love to put off actually fixing Kirk’s car for another hour or two. Hopefully the bookstore isn’t having a doorbuster sale this afternoon. How’s your grandma, anyway?

Unplanned, huh? Have you been not planning this since the time I got you trapped on a partially constructed ferris wheel? 

[cometagalong]

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Kirk, I swear to the good Lord above, St. Michael the archangel, and all the angels and saints that if you come in here one more time to ask me one more time about when I’ll get the leaked air freshener out of your rugs I am going to soak the whole damned set of upholstery in sandalwood essential oil and you will never, ever, ever be able to take Lulu or any other girl in this car again without having to pull over at least once to let her vom-

Oh. You are...not Kirk. Hi. 

[cometagalong]

Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

Eyes settling onto Tag’s brother, the corner of Brayden’s mouth turned up in an amused smile at the way Joel’s eyebrows seemed to knit together the same way Tag’s had when he’d been so intent on getting that cherry sno cone from Eliza. The realization was immediately followed by an imperceptible sigh because weird little details like that slipping into his consciousness definitely meant he’d spent too much time in the company of books and not enough time in the company of humans. This might not be a problem if Brayden didn’t have a habit of talking like he’d swallowed a thesaurus after six chapters of Faulkner.

But then Tag smiled, and Brayden swore he could read 20 more on how it was uniquely beautiful because it looked like he was putting a little effort into the gesture. People who smiled like it was nothing couldn’t possibly have the same appreciation for happiness as the people who had to work at it did.

Snorting unattractively at Tag’s comment and the accompanying image of Taylor hunched determinedly over a sewing machine with squinty eyes and red fingers, the announcement didn’t process until the smell of Kirk’s body odor hit Brayden’s nose and Tag started talking.

It was kind of funny how the answers to ‘do you want to ride the ferris wheel’ and ‘do you want to ride the ferris wheel with me’ could be so radically different.

Because if someone had asked Brayden the former, his answer would’ve been a resounding and indisputable no. Heights were not his cup of tea and the seats would be dirty and the machine was probably violating all kinds of safety codes.

But when Tag asked Brayden the latter, all he saw were hopeful blue eyes and the chance to maybe get to know the (definitely cute) mechanic with a dry kind wit that never failed to make him smile. And so he found himself saying, “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun.”

A decision he rapidly started to regret as they neared an open gondola, and several horrible images of Brayden fainting and falling out the side flashed behind his eyelids.

"So you’re not a town festival guy," Brayden started, the words coming out a little fast like they always did when he was scared. He stepped into the gondola after Tag and closed his hand around the safety bar in a white knuckled grip, "but you’re a Stars Hollow guy. Very counterintuitive and very intriguing. Care to elaborate?"

The ferris wheel jolted into movement, and Brayden swallowed uncomfortably before fixing his eyes on the toe of Tag’s shoe in an effort to distract himself from their rapidly rising height.

[cometagalong]

"Yeah well...I dunno. This place is pretty special. In a good way," he corrected himself quickly. "Not in the 'make room on the short bus' kind of way. So the festivals are a pain in the ass but the people are pretty great. Especially people like Lorelai and Luke. They really...they're good folks. And it's a good place to raise a kid brother, too. Minimum amount of drugs, maximum amount of overbearing neighbors." The rusty bar settled into place in front of them with a hollow clatter. Tag noticed the way Brayden held onto it. 

The gondola swung back and forth gently as they slowly, slowly, so slowly, began to move. "At this rate, we might reach the top by sunset. Stars Hollow'd probably look nice at sunset. Ot, you know, a little bit less like a freak show." He glanced at Brayden, but quickly, too nervous to stare. He fixed his eyes on Brayden's shoelaces instead. 

"Nice shoelaces," he said, then immediately felt his face flushing. Nice shoelaces? "I mean, they look really...clean." 

The silence wasn't broken by the squeak of the gondola; it was enhanced by it. It was like the undercurrent, a terrible, awkward bass line underscoring the discomfort. If he had a time machine, Tag would have really, seriously considered using it to go back and stop himself from asking this guy - this handsome, smart guy with his soft jawline and his soft eyes and his soft heart - to seclude himself with Tag on a slow spinning death trap. 

Brayden was gripping the metal bar so hard Tag could see the muscles between his fingers twitching. 

"Nervous?" he asked, then placed his own hand gently on top of Brayden's. "You can hold my hand it you want. I'd rather you break that than break Taylor's precious ferris wheel. And it's not that weird. Joel used to hold my hand when he was nervous all the time, until he got too cool for it." He swallowed hard. "I mean, it's not a big deal, just...forget it. Forget I said anything." 

[cometagalong]

Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

The sun was shining, the bird were chirping, the town square was buzzing with activity, and all of Stars Hollow looked like a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting.

Brayden figured he’d probably have enjoyed the view a little more if he hadn’t just got off a five hour shift manning the cotton candy booth at the Summer Festival. Taylor, being the gracious gift to mankind he was, had quite begrudgingly allowed Brayden a half an hour break after a small child had barfed all over his favorite tennis shoes, but only on the promise that once he was all cleaned up he’d come back and man the booth for another three hours before clocking out.

Brayden bit back a groan when a quick glance at his watch told him he had about one minute before Taylor would come barging into Luke’s, march over to the corner he had tucked himself comfortably into, and demand an explanation as to why he was thirty seconds late.

Not quite up for a lecture on how many little children had missed out on their candy clouds due to his inefficiency, Brayden downed the rest of his coke in one long, burning sip, tossed a couple dollars on the table, and unenthusiastically started back towards the direction of the festival.

He’d nearly gotten behind the cotton candy machine when something caught his eye a couple feet away. It was an increasingly confused looking Eliza engaged in a very circular sounding debate with a very angry someone who echoed familiarity. It was only when he saw the someone’s eyes, blue eyes that seemed to have sprung directly from between the pages of one of Brayden’s favorite novels, did he recognize him.

"Heyyyy, Liza," he called, jogging over to where she was standing and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Taylor’s requested you run the cotton candy booth for the rest of the day. You know it’s the most visited of all the attractions, and, well, turns out I just don’t have what it takes.” And that was all it took to send her happily skipping away, nibbling at the top of the blue sno cone she’d just been offering ‘Mr. O’Donal’ ten seconds ago.

"I was never here," Brayden informed, matter-of-factly, as he scooped a serving of shaved ice into a paper cone, "you were never here,” bending over, he retrieved the red syrup they kept underneath the booth and poured a healthy amount on Tag’s sno cone, “and this neeeever happened.” Rising to the height of the booth once again, he rested his elbows on the table and held out the sno cone with the smallest and most secretive of his smiles.

"Turns out Eliza just mixed up her primary colors," Brayden sighed, feigning pity. "Sadly, it’s something that’s been known to happen from time to time. What are you doing here? I mean, there’s a slight chance I’m just really bad at reading people but the last time we met you didn’t exactly strike me as the kind of guy that would be into all this."

[cometagalong]

Tag’s eye lit up, and he wasn’t sure whether it was because of the sno cone or the boy holding it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tag said between licks of the sno cone. He had to resist the urge to sigh with satisfaction. “I got this sno cone all the way from Woodbridge. Actually, make sure Taylor finds out about that. If he thinks citizens of Stars Hollow are going to Woodbridge to get sno cones he might rethink this line in the snow.” Jokes were not usually Tag’s thing, but the way Brayden’s eyes lit up when he laughed made him want to try.  “Come on,” he said jerking his head away from the sno cone stand. “Let’s get out of here before someone shows up and tries to stuff Blue Raspberry Sno down your pants.” Before they left, Tag grabbed the bottle of cherry syrup. It wasn’t like Taylor was using it anyway.

It was a nice day, Tag thought, by which he meant the weather was nice, not the stupid festival. The sun burst through in bright streaks from behind the late summer clouds, and the air was heavy with the perfumed scent of flowers (although whether it was truly the scent of flowers or something Taylor bought at bath and body works and pumped through the town square, Tag would never know). Cool breezes blew through, ruffling hair and rustling flowers and causing the benches on the ferris wheel, which still wasn’t running, to sway back and forth. Stars Hollow on the cusp of autumn was about as beautiful a place as he could imagine.

“Town festivals are definitely not my jam,” Tag said, licking the side of the snow cone where a rivulet of syrup had started to trickle. “But…I dunno, Stars Hollow kinda is. Plus, Joel’s got his eyes on some girl in his class. She’s way out of his league, but that’s never stopped him before. Watching him strike out is the most entertaining thing you’ll see after the annual viewing of Kirk’s independent movie, so…Plus, I mean, the cherry sno cone is a big deal, too.”

Smile, he thought. This is where you smile at him. He was sure the smile he forced looked like a grimace. Real smooth.

Tag spotted Joel, who had apparently spent his entire life savings on balls to knock down a stack of milk bottles. An enormous pink teddy bear hung behind the bottles, and Joel was looking at it like it was the white stag. Tag chuckled and pointed him out to Brayden, but just then a screech of microphone feedback rang out through the speakers.

“Attention, Stars Hollow!” Taylor said from the Gazebo once the feedback had cleared away.

“I wonder if he makes those red and white striped jackets himself,” Tag wondered aloud.

“It is my great pleasure to announce that this festival is a historic one indeed! As you’ll see, for the first time in Stars Hollow’s history, we have a working ferris wheel!” Taylor gestured grandly to the ferris wheel.

The machine had been rigged up to a stationary bike. Kirk was sitting on said stationary bike, sweating and grunting and struggling to pedal. As he did, the ferris wheel slowly – so, so slowly it was almost imperceptible - inched around.

“Wow,” Tag said. “This is historic for sure. First time there’s ever been a ferris wheel powered by a human gerbil.” He looked at Brayden.

Do it, the voice in him said. Take a chance.

“Umm,” he said, clearing his throat. “I know you’re on cotton candy duty but…I mean, Taylor’s probably going to be pretty distracted making sure Kirk doesn’t faint, and I mean…Joel’s not gonna knock over any bottles for a while, so…what do you say? Wanna spend and hour or two riding the world’s slowest ferris wheel? With me, I mean.”

[cometagalong]

Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer

“Every year,” Tag managed, injecting his voice with the same sort of measured reason you might hear from a man trying to convince a psych ward runaway to return to the hospital, “I sit in my garage and watch as you people block the roads to my house with the ferris wheel that you both never figure out how to assemble and never stop renting despite the fact that it doesn’t work. August, which should be my busiest month, is totally wasted because access to the garage is blocked off by tent assembly, which inexplicably happens in the streets, after which they are moved to the town square instead of just being assembled in the town square, so that the lawn can continue soaking up the last rays of summer sunlight. And you know what? I don’t mind. I smile, even, because I know, after all of the freakin insanity, there will be the summer festival, and you know what’s at the summer festival?” The high school girl running the concession stand stared back at him blankly. “Sno cones. Cherry sno cones. I spend all year waiting for cherry sno cones. And now you’re telling me that – despite the fact that you have cherry sno cones, you won’t be selling me a cherry sno cone?”

“I can’t, Mr. O’Donal, Taylor said so! But our blue raspberry sno cone is very popular this year-“

“Eliza,” Tag took a deep breath. “I don’t want a blue raspberry sno cone. Raspberries aren’t even blue. I want a cherry sno cone. Do you have any idea what summers are like for me? Do you have any concept of the sweltering hell I live through in that garage, day in and day out? You know what’s the only thing that gets me through that three-month-long sauna?”

“I’m guessing it’s a cherry sno cone.”

“Bingo!”

“But I can’t give you a cherry sno cone.”

Tag wanted to knock over the popcorn machine. “Okay, why? Please tell me, why does Taylor suddenly have a vendetta against red sno cones?”

“He says it’s easier to avoid the hyperactive kids when they’ve only had blue sno cones!” the girl said brightly. Tag wondered if she would ever graduate high school. “Their mouths turn blue, so you know exactly which ones to keep away from! Last year, a kid who was hyped up on red sno cones ran into him and smeared chocolate all over his favorite pants, so he’s out to make sure the terrorists are marked.” Eliza grinned and held out a blue fucking sno cone. “Do you was a blue raspberry one instead?”

Tag growled at her.

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

Yeah, that was pretty much my entire family sans gran’s reaction. Don’t worry about it. I thought long and hard about the whole adventurous-see-the-world-work-for-a-big-corporation thing, and I don’t know, it just sounded like with that life there wasn’t any time to stop and smell the roses. And I really like roses, so.

Oh, don’t worry about cutting us a deal, we’re… Money isn’t a problem. But yeah, I think I’ll bring it by anyways. Any chance I have to get gran off the roads is a gift from god. You’re kidding? Well, there’s always the option of going to Taylor. If anyone can annoy people into putting their pitchforks away it’s Taylor.

Someone from somewhere else actually dreamed of Stars Hollow? Wow. That’s a new one. Usually it’s the other way around. That’s a lovely story, in any case. Ah, well. They’re all doctors who are currently in a long term relationship with their careers, so unless you’ve contracted an infectious disease and are dying I wouldn’t count on it.

[cometagalong]

Oh, not me. I was talking about my brother. He's the future frat boy, I'm, umm...I'm not interested in your sister-doctors. Although I am definitely not above infecting my brother with an infectious disease if it means someone else gets to joy of having him as their major responsibility. Taking care of him is like taking care of a puppy. Except he's way less adorable. 

Going to Taylor is not an option. Who do you think complains the worst about my "Unconstitutionally inflated prices"? 

Well, I guess I should probably let you get back to...whatever it is you do around here. It's a race against the clock to get to Al's. A true Cinderella story, except with sandwiches instead of glass slippers. Or whatever. 

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

Oh, well. Good. I hate those types. On and off for about nine years. Obviously my presence was a little scarce during college, but I made it back on weekends. How long have you been a mechanic?

Ah, yeah. That would be her. She’s, uh, always running late and tends to get a little speed-y when it’s something important. She honestly probably should’ve had her license taken away by now but she’s known most of the police department since they were in diapers so she’s got a little leverage. I will try and get her to swing by, but no promises. She’s very difficult. Oh, is it squash now? Man, we just eradicated the loofa thieves.

I have three sisters, actually, and they drive me completely crazy when they all come home for the holidays. And yet, if one of them told me they needed a book for school and I had to risk my weekly Veal Parm to get it for them, I probably would. Funny how that works, huh?

[cometagalong]

You went to college? And then came back to work in your granny's bookstore? I mean, sorry, that sounded really judgmental. I'm not judging you. I mean, obviously, I'm not judging you, I'm a mechanic, and like...yeah. Forget it. Forget I ever asked you anything other than "Does a Separate Peace come in purple". 

Or you could swing by with it. If you want to, I mean. I don't how booming the purple book business is nowadays, but it's not going to get easier if the car up and breaks down. And I mean...I could probably cut you a deal. Lord knows I've been doing it enough since I opened the garage here. Perfect timing, cause Gypsy was just moving out, but it turns out she'd been basically charging everyone just for parts for the last couple of years, so the pitchforks and torches really came out when I tried to charge them for the act of actually rebuilding an engine. 

Sorry, I don't usually ramble. Umm, we've been here for the last six years or so. Our mom always dreamed of living here but it never worked out, so it seemed right that we should finally try to settle down here. Three sisters, huh? Any of them in the market for a goofy, unmotivated, but lovable future frat boy in desperate need of a girl to whip him into shape? 

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

The Chow Mein sandwich was actually invented in Massachusetts and holds a very flimsy resemblance to any traditional Chinese food, you might like it. It’s like a sloppy joe for people who pretend to be cultured. If you do that, there is a very real chance that I will cry and then Gran’ll come after you who doesn’t look like much, but trust me. She is disturbingly good at creative ways of inflicting pain.

You’re a mechanic? Oh, that’s really cool. I read an auto manual once just for kicks and I can safely say, cars are some of the only things I’ve never been able to figure out. Ah. Summer reading. It’s too bad he’s got to read it for school, that always took something out of the book for me. Does he go to Stars Hollow High?

[cometagalong]

I don't know if I could live with the thought of making a grown man cry without using my fists, but let's just say I'm not really the pretend-to-be-cultured type. So you work here with your grandma, huh? How long have you been working here?

Wait, wait, wait...does your granny drive that old blue Lincoln out there in the parking lot? Because that car totally cut me off today and it was definitely being driven by a demon-grandma, and also the carburetor has like two weeks max before it gives out, so you know. Not trying to drum up business or anything, but I'd hate to see your grandma stall in the middle of nowhere cause, you know, Taylor's been talking about ruffians stealing his squash so. Crime rate's on the rise. 

Yeah, he is. Junior. Idiot, but what can you do? Brothers are the worst. Do you have any? 

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

I think I wrote in my planner that Al was testing out the Chicken Chow Mein today but half the time I can’t read my own writing so there’s a very large possibility I’m wrong. We do have A Separate Peace, if that makes you feel better.

Aisle 4, come with me and I’ll get it down for you. Gran almost turned it away because the green leaf covers more than half the purple water but I fought for it. It’s a great book. Have you read it before?

[cometagalong]

If I get to Al's Pancake World and he serves me Chow Mein or Lo Mein or anything that doesn't taste like it was created or originated or fried to perfection here in the U.S., I'm blaming you. I will come back here and hold all of these copies of the fourth Series of Unfortunate Events book hostage until you fix it. 

Me? Uh, no. Nah. I don't read, really. Never had much interest, unless it was published by Chilton. Umm, Auto Repair Manuals, not that creepy school in Hartford. Anyway, it's for my kid brother. The jughead failed to mentioned that he had to read this over the summer, and now he's got a grand total of three days to do it and write his book report on it, so I told him I'd swing by during lunch and pick it up. 

[braydencarver-deactivated201608]

Gran, please don’t wipe stuff off my face with your spit. We have a customer I— gran, stop trying to set me up with the customers. …Sorry! Sorry, it’s, uh, been a slow day. And as for the purple, well. Stars Hollow never met a quirky theme it didn’t love.

The only McDonald’s in town’s health certificate has been pending for three years and it’s still a better choice for pancakes than Al’s. And I thought today they were doing the Chicken Chow Mein? Huh. Anyways, what can I help you with today sir?

[cometagalong]

Don't tell me that, the promise of a Veal Parm sandwich is the only thing - literally the only thing - getting me through this day. Thursday is always Veal Parm Sandwich day. 

Yeah well, just because Stars Hollow hasn't doesn't mean I haven't. So...everything's purple, huh? What are the odds A Separate Peace comes in purple? 

[cometagalong]

Hello? Is anyone he- Oh, geez, what's with all the purple?

Is there seriously no one here right now? It's Thursday, which means Al's Pancake World is serving Veal Parm sandwiches for lunch, which means I have exactly seven minutes to find this stupid book and make it there before he switches over to dinner. And let me tell you, he's merciless about this deadline. It's worse than trying to make it to McDonald's in time for breakfast. Which, actually, is a much better choice for pancakes than Al's.