Apr 15, 2017
[ @colpapabear ]
“Well let’s face it, it’s a bit like safe cracking, isn’t it? You lean close, listen carefully and twiddle your fingers just the right amount.”
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[ @colpapabear ]
“Well let’s face it, it’s a bit like safe cracking, isn’t it? You lean close, listen carefully and twiddle your fingers just the right amount.”
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//Thera no.
The code name is Papa Bear, not Daddy.
@peternewkirk:
❝Wot the bloody hell are you talking about? Everyone knows that I won.❞
❝Never thought you would sink this low, Khodorkovsky.❞
❝--------Oh come on. My rhymes were better than yours and I hit some good points. You just kept saying I was a bad doctor and how I’m going to fail or something. Pathetically played, Peter, pathetically played.❞
@peternewkirk liked for a starter
☠ “So what now? You’re having a tea break or something? Because why else are you taking your tea cups out and stuff? Is this a typical ‘british’ thing, or what?”
[[Starter for @peternewkirk ]]
It was a quarter past five on a Friday evening - not that days of the week mattered all that much at Stalag 13. They did, however, matter in Frankfurt, where the biannual Luftwaffe conference and dinner was being held. A staff car was waiting outside the Kommandant's office, the stolid and long-suffering driver settled behind the wheel, and inside General Burkhalter was attempting, with limited success, to get the journey underway.
"KLINK!" His irritating voice carried plainly through the open door, "Get a move on!"
"Yes, General Burkhalter ..." Klink struggled to keep his voice cordial, something made more difficult as he tried to extract himself from the attentions of the General's sister. Frau Linkmeyer was very well dressed for the evening in a blue-green gown and fur stole, but Klink was not particularly impressed - and certainly not looking forward to the two hour drive that lay ahead. "Perhaps Frau Linkmeyer should sit in the front, where it's more comfortable - ?"
"Get in ze car, Klink!"
The three of them had gathered on the porch, flanked by Schultz, at attention but torn between amusement and wincing in sympathy, when suddenly the gate guards startled and began to move. Another car was approaching, driving rapidly and honking the horn. The guards stopped it just outside the gates, speaking to the driver, and almost immediately there was the sound of a distressed female voice throwing an absolute fit.
Burkhalter frowned, turning to observe. "Who is zis?"
Klink shook his head, nonplussed, but it seemed the question was about to be answered as the flustered guards hauled open the gate and allowed the little red car to rattle through, a dark-haired woman behind the wheel. Fraulein Schmidt had returned.
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Thera and Peter~
//Another guilt trip, here. She worries that he’s going to get himself killed trying to look after her.