I Don't Have An Accordion Pun For This So Here's My Title [OPEN]
And now he’s lying on the cold hard ground. Why. Why this. He remembered falling asleep in a bed made of velvet and silk and whatever fancy stuff they have and he wakes up to this. Absolon blows the cobweb out of his face before brushing himself off, pulling out his mirror, and checking his hair. There’s some dust… Gross… He’s trying his best to pick it all out when he suddenly makes eye contact with Mr. Moseby. Whoever that is. Absolon doesn’t watch television unless he’s on it.
Wait. Are there people in here with him.
"Absolutely disgusting… The lot of you."
Oops, he didn’t mean to say that out loud. Hopefully nobody hear him. Anyway.
"Pardon me but I cannot stand being around so many common people. I will be taking my leave."
And he’s off, with Dion beside him. Who’s Dion, you ask? That’s his wife. Or. Fiancee. Same thing. They were practically married. If only… Dion is a right-handed piano accordion, custom made, and fixed and loved by Absolon himself. He’s so proud.
He made his way to the exit, grabbed the door’s handle, and yanked at it. What the fuck. It isn’t opening. Maybe it’s a push door? He leans against it and gives up before he even leans. Okay. Time to find another exit. He passes by the Moseby cut-out without reading the notice but stares at it right in the eyes before actually leaving. You can hear a small Fuck off when he does.
Eyes trailing around the room with a skeptical look, Heather couldn't seem to find any obvious exit points. He'd made his way around and pushed and prodded at a few locations, so the boy yanking at the most pointless location was something to notice. Stepping forward, he headed in the kid's direction, tapping him on the shoulder.
"Hey, could I come along with you? I figure it's easier to find a way out if you've got someone else coming along with you," he piped up, hoping the guy wouldn't reply with his back turned.
It was hard enough to read lips in the dark, let alone try to read them with the back of his head blocking the way. His eyes darted to the instrument curiously, smiling to himself as he did. Stepping forward to make sure he could see more of the guy's face, he moved to his side and slightly to the front.
"Cool.. instrument? What's it called again, the ac... acca... accordoon? Accordion?" Man, he wished he had his phone about now to write this all out. "Do you play or is it like an over-sized handbag with no pockets?"
That didn't make sense, but it didn't keep with Heather from giving a giggle. It was no use fretting their situation when you could just go with it, right? He was sure jokes would be appreciated. Everyone knew this was a prank anyways.
