Through the Mail Slot

Was Sparkle in an excellent mood this morning?

Damn right Sparkle was in an excellent mood this morning. The island seemed to be laying off that whole oppressive pollen crap, and even if it wasn't, there was a trip planned for later in the day that would put some distance between Sparkle and that constant thrum of want. And besides all that, he'd had a great night. How great? Great. Take his word for that one.

Or just guess, based on the fact that he was waking up next to a hot older guy, and instead of immediately losing his shit or something, he was wondering if now was the time he was supposed to head for the kitchen to make coffee.

... It was a good sign that his faculties had returned to him enough that he could remember that the one request going into this had been coffee, really. He was just going to take a few minutes more before getting to that to kind of, like, enjoy this.

[OOC: For that hot older guy!]

Look, Tony had said he wanted shawarma, and he'd also said that he was going to talk to Sparkle about the other weird things that happened on the island after the radio broadcast, and Sparkle was not about to let either of those things go. For one? Free food. And for another? He kind of wanted to know what the hell he'd gotten himself into back on that weird island, considering he'd just been sitting in a radio station with two huge men, one blue and the other wearing red footie pyjamas, and a bunch of drunk squirrels. Drunk, voyeuristic squirrels.

So they'd found this little place that had shawarma on the menu along with all the other stuff that these little cafe type places usually carried, found themselves a place to sit, and poked at their respective menus.

"So. What the hell was that back there?"

Neither of those men had been the tooth fairy.

[For one, and NFB for off-island-ness!]