Introductory Temporal Transportology

[bedheaded]

[A man is stuck in the streets of London. He has an amazing I-don't-care-about-my-hair-because-that's-how-cool-I-am hairstyle, $300 dollar Italian jeans, and I dare you to ask the thread count on that shirt, the first few buttons of which have been carelessly left unbuttoned. That's right. The hipsters have arrived. Also, he is holding a blackberry.]

[Clothing aside, he is not acting all that hip. He speaks with very broad hand gestures and a moderately manic expression.]

What the hell is this? When did we go Sherlock Holmes? Abed, are you doing a 'themed episode' [he doesn't need physical air quotes: he can do it with his voice] again? Because if you are, I need to know how the hell you pulled this off so it never happens again! [He stares at his Blackberry in incredulity, and here comes the last straw.] And why isn't my phone getting any signal?

[A choked scream of frustration, and he kicks a nearby crate.] This doesn't make any sense!

[Someone stop him before he finds an axe.]

Comments

[theworst]

Like I said, I'm fairly sure it's not him, but at this point I'm not ruling out anything. They have a bunch of cults that worship the alieny tentacled guys. If you want we can go down to the docks.

[still clinging, but pulling back to make a face at him, because friends can still troll each other, even through trauma]

Don't worry, I'll protect you from all the monster-wonsters.

[bedheaded]

I like the idea of not going where the tentacled people are, unless going where the tentacled people are will lead to getting out of this ridiculous time travel episode.

[And now he has to make a bitch face back.]

Thanks, Britta! Will you talk them down by shouting at them about the immorality of eating humans? Or maybe you'll stage a protest. That sure will save us.

[cannot lie, being a jerkass at Britta makes him feel more comfortable]

[theworst]

Or maybe I'll kick their asses like I did in paintball for two years in a row? How about that, hmm?

[and even though they are falling into bickering she still can't quite let go of him, part of her afraid this is that whole hallucination thing people talk about and a larger part of her just really really missing her friend]

[bedheaded]

Because paintball is just like shooting real people, Britta. Or in this case, real tentacle monsters, and that's a phrase that shouldn't exist, so I'm striking that from the record. Is this actually London in the Victorian era? And if so, can I get a date with Irene Adler?

[theworst]

Like Irene Adler would date a jag like you.

...but now that you mention it, I actually think she's here, too. Like as an actual, real person.

[bedheaded]

...No. She's a fictional character. That can't happen.

If this isn't Abed's fault, we are living inside Abed's head.

[theworst]

[she pulls away, but she grabs onto his wrist to drag him over to a news stand. She grabs a paper, ignoring the protests of the vendor, flipping through the paper until she finds the society pages, scanning until she sees a mention of Irene. She shoves the paper in Jeff's face her hand pointing at the item]

I won't totally discount the Abed's head theory, just because at this point nothing seems too out there.

[bedheaded]

[He sort of... stares at it for a second. The article, and the small picture. Then looks at Britta.]

Okay, this might be breaking one of the rules of fictional interaction or something, but is it just me or does Irene Adler look a lot like Rachel McAdams?

[theworst]

You know, I thought the same exact thing. That's weird, right? Maybe your Abed's head theory isn't too out there. Him and Troy did seem to like the Sherlock Holmes movies a lot.

[bedheaded]

Never saw them. But if we see RDJ, I called it.

[theworst]

Pshh, me either. Like I would sit through that watered down Hollywood garbage. If I'm going to watch Sherlock Holmes, it's Jeremy Brett or bust.

[hipsters on board, choo choo]

[bedheaded]

Good God, Britta. It doesn't count as nostalgic if it hasn't even been invented yet. [His eyes scan over her.] Speaking of things that haven't been invented, how long have you been here? And why haven't you been arrested for breaking decency laws?

[theworst]

Who says I haven't? Like any law could stop me from expressing myself however I please.

[she makes a sourface]

A month, maybe longer, I don't know.

[bedheaded]

[Oh sourface, so sour.] A month? I saw you a day ago.

No, wait. It's sci-fi bullshit, isn't it? Wow. This is ridiculous. We should not be the ones travelling in time.

[theworst]

I know. I wish Abed were here. He'd be way better at this than either of us.

[bedheaded]

He and Troy would probably enjoy it. [Glances at her.] So you've been alone? [It isn't mocking or anything. It's just. You know. A question. With absolutely no implications. And definitely none of concern. And very definitely no sense of empathy at the horrific thought of being here, alone, for a month.]

[theworst]

I mean, I've met people. It's not that bad, and it's a new experience.

[she's trying to shrug it off, and feeling a bit defensive and pathetic and really glad to have a familiar face]

[bedheaded]

It's not a Greendale experience. We don't have the budget. [Jeff sort of sighs.} And how long did it take before you adopted a cat?

[theworst]

I didn't adopt Thomas, Thomas adopted me. Well, not so much adopted as picked me, since he's not really in any shape to take care of himself let alone anyone else.

[bedheaded]

Let me guess. Blind in one eye again?

[theworst]

It's beginning to be a thing, isn't it? But you know what they say about when you lose one sense the others are heightened. They're probably draw to my nurturing personality.

[bedheaded]

Yeah, sure. That's it. Look, where are you living? Because I don't have anywhere to stay right now, and I also don't have a car.

[theworst]

That probably won't work. I'm kind of crashing with this anarchist guy I met. I've been thinking for a while I should probably find somewhere else to live.

You could be the catalyst I need to get my butt in gear. Jeff Winger, spurring someone to make a positive change in their life. Who knew that could even happen?

[her hand rests on his wrist, still worried he might disappear at some point]

[bedheaded]

Uh, hundreds if not ten people. Don't have a job, huh? [beat] Ugh, the lawyers here wear those stupid wigs, don't they?

[theworst]

I think they're cute, and dignified. Is someone worried hat hair might get in the way of your carefully coiffed bedhead?