#chevent011

It was something worth pondering with a martini in her hand. 

By the time she’d kicked aside enough balloons to fix pull down a glass and fix her drink, she’d decided the best course of action would be to wade back through the small space and take up residence on the deck. The problem would still exist once she’d reached the bottom of her glass, and she could just as easily take care of the issue after munching on the three saturated olives that would serve as her lunch. Better that than the days-old take out in her fridge. 

Somewhere between her first and second olive, she found the opportunity to lazily bat balloons in the direction of passersby. It was harmless -- - annoying, sure, but harmless - -- and slowly chipped away at the issue of balloons in her home. It didn’t take long before she hit someone squarely in the back of the head, though Vera didn’t miss a beat in draping herself over the rail of her boat and leaning into an shrug that might’ve come off as unaffected if she hadn’t given into a self-indulgent grin, “You look like you could use a balloon. That one’s free. It’s fifty cents a pop after that -- - a dollar if you want one with words on it.”

sawyer: alright who turned in a fake exam under my name and made me fail

sawyer: btw "learning to not shit the bed" is not a domain of child development

Unfortunately, this version of the classic prank created a much bigger mess. Keiran’s denim jacket was now tainted with chocolate splotches, and the remain’s of the pie were strewn out onto the sidewalk. Keiran groaned. Although someone else had technically created the mess, he didn’t feel right just leaving it there to be devoured by ants and stepped in by distracted pedestrians. He knelt down and began scooping what he could into the pie tin.