old man mcgucket, local kook (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gobblewonked) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
victory_road2017-12-26 11:13 am
gobblewonked) wrote in victory_road2017-12-26 11:13 am
[VIDEO and ACTION] backdated to Christmas Day, all around Goldenrod City
VIDEO
[This guy needs to back up from the camera. He really, really needs to back up from the camera. No one wants to look at his face this close up, and no one wants to hear this screechy drawl quite this close to the microphone.]
Well kettle my corn, this place just keeps getting better! First they give me all the napkins I can eat, and then they tell me it's Christmas in Ju-ly!
[He moves back just far enough to hold up a banjo in the camera's view. Now you can see where he is -- outside the department store in Goldenrod City.]
I even got my banjo back!
[Overcome with joy, this strange, toothless hillbilly breaks into shrill laughter and does a jig -- no, seriously, don't look too closely at the screen if you get motion sick from shakycam.]
Gyeh heh heh, time to play some summer carols!
[He doesn't seem to have realized that the temperature outside means it really is December.]
ACTION
[If you're in Goldenrod and out and about on Christmas, you might see this old man, shoeless and in overalls, regardless of the cold. He and his good ol' bag buddy trubbish have settled in front of a building to play some good old Christmas music, but it doesn't go quite as smoothly as it ought.
For one, McGucket keeps heckin' up the words. The songs keep grinding to a halt as the trubbish touches McGucket on the shoulder and explains patiently that the proper words to O Come All Ye Faithful are "Trub trub, trubbish trub-ish," not "Trubbish, trubbish, trubbish." McGucket nods at it sagely, scratching his chin. Sometimes he accepts the correction and declares that they're going to take it from the top. Other times, he argues it. This man is arguing Christmas songs with a trash bag, so it's a pretty normal Monday for him.
For another, there's only so long any shop owner will tolerate a stinky man and a stinky bag debating Christmas carols outside their door, and when that breaking point is reached, McGucket and his bag buddy's duets get cut short. Often they're chased off, and they'll tear down the street at a scrambling run, looking for a new place to settle in and sing.]
[This guy needs to back up from the camera. He really, really needs to back up from the camera. No one wants to look at his face this close up, and no one wants to hear this screechy drawl quite this close to the microphone.]
Well kettle my corn, this place just keeps getting better! First they give me all the napkins I can eat, and then they tell me it's Christmas in Ju-ly!
[He moves back just far enough to hold up a banjo in the camera's view. Now you can see where he is -- outside the department store in Goldenrod City.]
I even got my banjo back!
[Overcome with joy, this strange, toothless hillbilly breaks into shrill laughter and does a jig -- no, seriously, don't look too closely at the screen if you get motion sick from shakycam.]
Gyeh heh heh, time to play some summer carols!
[He doesn't seem to have realized that the temperature outside means it really is December.]
ACTION
[If you're in Goldenrod and out and about on Christmas, you might see this old man, shoeless and in overalls, regardless of the cold. He and his good ol' bag buddy trubbish have settled in front of a building to play some good old Christmas music, but it doesn't go quite as smoothly as it ought.
For one, McGucket keeps heckin' up the words. The songs keep grinding to a halt as the trubbish touches McGucket on the shoulder and explains patiently that the proper words to O Come All Ye Faithful are "Trub trub, trubbish trub-ish," not "Trubbish, trubbish, trubbish." McGucket nods at it sagely, scratching his chin. Sometimes he accepts the correction and declares that they're going to take it from the top. Other times, he argues it. This man is arguing Christmas songs with a trash bag, so it's a pretty normal Monday for him.
For another, there's only so long any shop owner will tolerate a stinky man and a stinky bag debating Christmas carols outside their door, and when that breaking point is reached, McGucket and his bag buddy's duets get cut short. Often they're chased off, and they'll tear down the street at a scrambling run, looking for a new place to settle in and sing.]
[Action]
What she's not expecting is the sound of banjo music and an old man (without shoes! in the snow!) and one of the trash bag Pokemon she's come to not be so afraid of as the source. She listens until he has to pause and take his Trubbish's lyrical consideration, and she applauds.]
No, 's good! 'S good!
[Action]
[McGucket is visibly excited about having an audience. He would have played these songs until the cows came home even if the only one listening was the Trubbish himself, but somebody's listening, and applauding even!]
"Trubbish!"
[The Pokemon is excited too, from the looks of it -- it's doing a happy little back-and-forth wobble.]
Merry Christmas, li'l missy! Funny -- last I remember, it was July, but everybody's sayin' it's Christmastime already! Sure do lose track of time around the holidays!
[He gives an unconcerned laugh and launches into a frenzied banjo rendition of Good King Wenceslas.]
[Action]
[She claps again and nods; yes, it really is the wintry time of year for that holiday - but this man is probably new. That's alright, though.]
Y'get a present from Father Sq...Christmas?
[Old Squidmas habits are hard to break.]
[Action]
...well, slap my knee and call me Sally! Is he the one what gave me my old banjo back?
[Action]
[Obviously Father Squidmas is responsible for all of this good fortune.]
[Action]
Hoohoohoo! A musicalilly-inclined feller, eh? Well, if he's passin' out git-tars and banjos, then he's all right by me! Even if he did break into my house and watch me sleep!
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Video
But no country music. It's an abomination to good peoples earholes.
Video
Young lady, I'm sure you don't mean nothin' by it, so I'm a-choosin' to forgive that, since it's clearly comin' from a place of ignorance.
[Then, he perks up and grins at her.]
Luckily, I play bluegrass, too! Eheheh, down you go!
[He puts the PokeGear on the ground in front of him, where he can still see the li'l missy who looks even li'ler in the tiny screen, and rests his banjo on his knee. With a wiggle of his fingers and a quick chord, McGucket launches into Deck the Halls, upbeat and unapologetically bluegrass-y.]
Re: Video
YEAH! That's more like it Grandpa! Your voice sounds like you've been gargling glass but you make those strings sing! Hell yeah!
Video
Thank you kindly, li'l lady! Want to hear another one?
[And bam, away he goes, into Away in a Manger. Now, with Deck the Halls, it had been a little hard to tell if he was getting the words wrong, especially since the half-howled fa-la-las were much more offensive. This time, though...]
Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
The little lor' Jesus still hasn't been fed,
As haaard as we try, we frown when we say,
There wiiill be more cheeses, there will be, someday!
[But one verse isn't enough. Oh, no. McGucket launches into a second one.]
The caaaattle are glowing, the cornfield it shakes!
But little Cordelia's the one who awakes!
The terror will freeze us, they come from the sky,
Them gray saucer people will--eh?
[A Trubbish is anxiously tugging at McGucket's overalls.]
Trub, trub! Trub-issssh!
Course them's the right words! I been singin' these carols for sixty-odd years!
Trubbish!
video
Please tell me the napkin eating was metaphorical.
[Because napkins + eat in a literal context... does not sound pleasant.]
video
[Just. This face. At the camera. Your move, Riku.]
video
[He's still staring. And leaning slightly back because what. What even is this man? This is something else.]
video
[Something else is right on the money.]
video
I just don't see why you'd want to eat something so tasteless.
[Then again, he's never tasted napkins. But logic dictates that they must taste awful! Really.]
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action
[Eren the Trubbish comes galloping over to McGucket and his Trubbish, chattering happily and ready to talk some trash and sing some carols with them. Who wants a garbage duet?]
Action, I'm sorry mcgucket is yelling at him, but I'm not sorry for the rest of this
Aaaagh! I'm a-seein double again!
[He drops the banjo and crawls, rapid and lizardlike, up to the new Trubbish to inspect it critically. Then, he stands up, though he's so bowlegged it looks almost like he's still sitting on his haunches, and scratches his beard. Slowly and analytically:]
Smells real.
[McGucket's own Trubbish tugs on his overalls.]
Trubbish!
[McGucket looks at his bag buddy in wide-eyed astonishment at the news that the other Trubbish is real.]
Y'mean you had a twin brother all along? Well, why didn't you mention him before?! To think, we've been friends all this time, and y'never thought I'd want to hear about your family?
[Sheesh, something real big must've gone down or something.
Trubbish shuts his eyes and shakes his head. It tugs McGucket's overalls again.]
Truuubbish!
Not your twin, eh?
[McGucket turns to Eren, suddenly suspicious.]
Then what are you? A clone? A parallel version that escaped from a doooomed dimension? A bodysnatchin' alien from outer space?!
[He grabs Eren by the front of the bag and holds him up.]
You ain't replacin' nobody on my watch, pod person!
[...nobody tell this man about Dittos.]
Action, don't be sorry, this is the funniest tag I've gotten in awhile!
[He releases a slow, noxious garbage fart. He's been well fed on egg shells and cookie crumbs lately, so this little bon mot is especially ripe and foul. You can practically see the poison gas leaking out of him.]
Trubbish!
[Bonding!]
i love this whole thread
This moment of distraction lets McGucket's own Trubbish bump into a filthy, overall-clad leg.]
Truuuubbish! Trub trub trub, trub-BISH!
[Comprehension dawns on McGucket's face. Oh. It's just another Trubbish. He gets it. They're like possums, where they all have the same teeth and tail and beady eyes, but each one's got its own unique, beautiful personality.]
Well! Ain't this awkward!
[Unfortunately, there are other people around who aren't as hard to poison as Fiddleford McGucket. The owner of the restaurant they've been playing in front of has smelled Eren's gas-bomb and has decided that enough is enough. She comes out the front door waving a broom, and her Charmander (in a little culinary apron) is right on her heels.]
Go on, get out of here! You're poisoning my customers!
[Even before she starts to shout, McGucket sees the broom and knows what it means.]
Run for the hills, fellers!
[His bag buddy will follow him, and he'll drag Eren behind him if he has to -- no garbage person gets left behind to face the restaurant owner's wrath.]
this is CR made in heaven, right here
Eren!
[Oh look, here's Jean, finally catching up to his wayward Trubbish. Was the hillbilly screeching or the fart fumes that alerted him? Who can say? Either way, Eren has left a convenient, disgusting trail for him to follow, and Jean starts running after McGucket and the fleeing Trubbishes.]
Hey! HEY! You've got my Pokemon!
trash friends forever
they can get together and... talk trash eyyyyy
luckily mcgucket is a trash expert |D
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[ This man is like, something from a cartoon. You don't see any hillbillies in England, certainly not ones who fit the archetype quite like this guy seems to at a first glance. Ash is beaming on the camera, with his Pumpkaboo, Psychopump sat in his lap and watching the screen curiously. ]
I play guitar, but I mean...that's not like, anything special. Most people who want to learn an instrument go for a guitar. What kind of songs dya play? [ God, if this man plays the most hillbilly of songs he's gonna be Delighted. But he'll be just as Delighted if McGucket breaks into a solo worthy of Dragonforce or something by Tenacious D. ]
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Now you have!
[He plays another lick, nothing special, just for the fun of it -- and because he's got an appreciative audience.]
I play all three kinds! Country, western, and bluegrass!
[It's said with perfect earnestness -- as he breaks into a riff that is definitely the opening notes from Larger than Life. He doesn't seem to notice the discrepancy.]
But consideratin' the season, I got some nice traditional summertime Christmas music I can play for you!
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Oh man, go for it. If you want I'll grab my guitar and we can trade riffs.
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Tradin' riffs, huh? What level are they? I ain't tradin' none of my banjo riffs for anything below a level twenty!
[Some wires are clearly crossed, here. This doesn't work like a Pokemon trade, McGucket.]
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My guitar riffs are level 'awesome', thank you very much. Hold up - [ He puts Psychopump down where he was sitting and fetches his guitar. Psychopump just blinks at McGucket. Once Ash returns, He sits down again and Psychopump gives the guitar a dirty look. It's taking her place in Ash's lap >:c He strums the odd note, making sure it's tuned ]
Here we go.
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