What do ye do wif a drunken sailor earl-eye in the marnin'.

--Someone to be killin' me now, thank ye kindly.


[ooc: Haahahahaha. XD]

Why did I go to LA.

Why didn't I stop drinking ten years ago.

Why didn't I just let Holly win that last racquetball game.

Why is it only during Christmas, huh.

Why do they aim for my fucking shoulders.

Why is there always broken glass when I don't got any shoes.

Why bombs.

Why'd the kid have to disappear.

Why'd -she- have to disappear too.


Why did I let him talk me into it.

Why me.


Hey. Luce.

You been to the zoo yet?


[ooc: John McClane is...an unhappy camper. I know, when is he never, but he's missing the Whizkid more than he lets on, and he misses Eden a lot. Surrogate daddy is worried. And he's drinking a little.]

....


You have got to be shitting me...

Tomato sauce? Really?

And here I thought I was gonna fucking die.

Silly, silly, silly me.

So, -I- had a heart attack this morning.



Look--ma'am---I'm not an intruder, this is, uh...curse. Thing. I've been TRYING to get this damn thing off, but it's not happening.

But, uh--I'm sorry for any inconvenience. And my boxers.


Luce, don't worry if I'm kinda missing.

I'm kinda handcuffed to someone. I'll check in later, are you--cursed? Or what?

Eden?


Farrell, just don't do anything stupid. Pantless wonder.

[ooc: XDD Haha. Pretty man Marron and McClane.]

Okay.

Sorry.

Disappeared for a minute there. Sorta trying to do my job, what with--people turning up disemboweled with their heads missing. Where's Matt.


Shit.


Shit.

I'm...really tired.

I picked a hell of a time to stop drinking.

Oh, yeah. New guy coming to live here. Just play nice.


[ooc: McClane returns!! Has noooo idea about his daughter being around, and he hasn't been sleeping much. And he hasn't been drinking. You should applaud him. Also, I'll be leaving in a couple minutes, sooooo if I stop tagging, that would be why. <3]

Mom??

Hey MOM?!! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!

Aw, come ON! This isn't funny!!

My stupid sister did this, didn't she.


Aw, come ON.


Moooooooooooooooooooooooooom!!!!!


[ooc: I had to. :3]

There was a forest....

In the apartment.


For a minute there, I thought I got sucked into Jumanji, or some shit.

Bugs as big as your head. Kinda pretty, though. Eden.
There's nothing going on today, right? Nothing trying to kill anybody? Huh?

Say yes. Fuck.

I'm patrolling tonight. And buying another few packs of cigarettes.

It's days like these that I miss Jersey. And Washington. Maybe not the dozens of guys trying to blow my head off, or bullshit that comes with the seniority, but hey...sometimes, I think I'd take those yahoos over this shit.

And I miss my kid. I'm used to missing John, but Luce 'n me...ah. Probably thinks I ran out or something. Holly's probably on the warpath again. Damn it.

There's always next year.

[ooc: Strikes not there.]

...

What the fuck is that?

Anybody else here that?


Yeah. Yeah---what the -fuck- is that?


And anyone who thinks about obeying a creepy song coming from a group of trees that's always trying to kill you, I'd think twice.

Jesus, what is this, a reenactment of medieval england. Shit.

Matt, Eden--just...stay in uninfected areas, will ya? Give me heart attacks to go along with my tar lungs.


Almost wish I stayed in Queens.

Hey, hey! Finally found this thing--

Kinda been wanderin' around, alot of people are acting really weird---


Hey, Matt?? Eden? Where are you kids, I've been looking everywhere--feel like ordering pizza tonight.


Found a penny today. Means goodluck, right? Haha.


[ooc: Uhm...XD Meet not-so-grumpy-and-bitchy McClane. He's suddenly everyone's ray of sunshine.]

Harmless curse. Don't bitch about it.

It's not as bad as, say, mass murder, or, y'know, things that come alive to kill us in the night.

I need a drink.




[Private to Eden]
Eden. We need to talk.

I hate boats.

Never getting on another boat again.

Ever.


As a note, I'm taking the week a few days off. I'll give the warden an official notice later.
I just want a beer.


A couple hundred beers.

And some BBQ chicken wings...kinda makes me wish we had a monster truck rally around here.

Yeah.

That'd be nice.


[ooc: So, McClane's camping out on the couch. He's had a few nightmares, and isn't all that happy with the world, but he knows when to take a break...not. He'll try to go to work tomorrow. Stop him. <3 ]

...aw, shit.


Please don't tell me this ship is the Titanic. Please. Someone. Anyone.


Joke's over. Let's all go home.



Fuck.



Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.


Matt. Eden. Check in. Now.

Dammit.


Dammit, dammit, dammit.


Fucking dammit.

I was old enough, you sons of bitches.

WHAT. THE. FUCKING.  FUCK. 



I could take the other bullshit...but this...this crosses a fucking line...



[ooc: He's fucking beautiful. XD]

Can't say I'm completely unhappy the whiz-kid his here. Honestly, it's nice to see a familiar face...all right, so the face was already here, but know somebody familiar, how about that. Hold onto my sanity for awhile. Good job, Farrell.

I fucking hate computers.

Never got 'em. Not one bit. Y'know, my daughter, Lucy, her main concern, going to college, was if Holly or me was gonna pay for a...Mac notebook, or something.

-I- paid for the damn thing. Cost a fortune, for something smaller than the radio in my car.

Still, atleast it was something Lucy couldn't yell at me for. I pay for half her education too, and John Jr. Jack my ass--he's going by -Jack- now. I haven't seen him in, what, 4 years. Solid. At least I see Luce a couple times a...year.

Well--maybe it'll be better now. Might even see her for Christmas. That'd be nice, just one regular fucking Christmas, with no goddamned guns, or explosions, or...terrorists. Broken bones. Just turkey, egg-nog, and my little girl. Hell, I'll even pay attention to the Christmas specials this year...if I see her by then. Holly's going to have a shit fit when she finds out I disappeared. She'll have a shit fit when she finds out what happened to Luce.

Holly already hates me. She doesn't need more reasons to want to own my testicles. Goddamned woman--I was the one trying to make the fucking thing work. I stopped drinking, I pulled back on the hours, I did everything I could. But no.

You know, of all the assholes I've worked with, I think I'm the only one that hasn't retired. Goddamn Alan--he still calls me every Christmas, that motherfucker...got a couple cute kids, they send me a few cards. So does Zeus.

I'm a workaholic. And two steps away from being an alcoholic. One step.

And now--that motherfucker Gabriel, he wiped out my 401K. I hadn't even thought've that. Goddamn. Goddamn fucking -shit-.

I don't think there's anything I can do about that.

Goddamn fucking SHIT.


....

....Fuck. Don't tell me. Don't -even-. Fucking tell me.

Figures.

I think I'm losing my mind...and whizz-kid shows up.

Lo and behold, this is Matt.

Don't fuck with him. Seriously. For these reasons:

a) He'll probably hack your computer and do something technical and vexing. It won't be pretty.
b) He'll whine my ear off for days.
c) He's not exactly the calmest fucking person. Once again, -I- will have to deal with it.

Just don't fuck with him.


Goddamn.


This could ALL be part of my hallucination...I dunno, Matt's pretty fucking tangible, and my one shred of sanity. He doesn't know about Lucy either.


Also.
I need to see a Mr. Souske, about the police force, apparently.

[ooc: x3 He's being a dickhead because he can. He likes him, really, he's just really cranky from last night. He just wants his computery hands to stay off his daughter. GO ADD MATT RIGHT NOW. ]

 
...Y'know what...yeah, I'd ask what the fucking hell happened yesterday, but I'm done with that shit. I could have been really high, and it wouldn't have made a difference. 

Normally, when waking up next to a centerfold, you ask yourself, "How did I suddenly become amazing overnight?" But me?

I ask--- what curse made me do what, and I can't even deny anymore that I'm not hallucinating--this shit just does not happen. I climbed up the side of a building.


I need a drink. Or a million. 


Goddamn it...what the fuck...

Grocery List
-milk
-Wheaties
-Lays
-beer
-Aspirin


You know, I'm starting to think I'm a magnet for this shit. Maybe I'm, uh--paying for something I did in a past life. Karma, that stuff. Maybe I should get it tattooed on my forehead, "John McClane, deals with dipshits." I still cause insurance yahoos t'run and hide. I had a nice lull there for awhile, though, twelve years. Nice apartment, four rooms. Nice divorce. 401K. Daughter who didn't talk to me. Son who stays a stranger. Getting called for jerkoff heists once and awhile. Not bad.

Not bad at all.

Then, bam. Oh, yeah, easy job, go get this kid, needs a senior officer. There and back, no problem, no hassle. Unbefuckinglievable.

Then, oh--oh--- Lucy's safe now, you're gonna be fine, just a couple hundred bullet holes--oh, no wait, guess what, you're overdue for a trip to Lala Land meets the Twilight Zone.

Fuck. This. Shit.

Oh, yeah.

Real fucking funny, City.

 Get used to it. 

There's nobody else to do it right now. Sue me. 

Tch. Yeah, sure. Not. 

It's not. My. FAULT. It's NEVER my fault. 


This one I can get behind. Shit. 

Reminds me. I gotta go to the store. 

Yeah. Fuck you.

 Again. Not my fault.

These clubs don't really MEET do they?