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_road2018-02-12 07:05 pm
gobblewonked) wrote in victory_road2018-02-12 07:05 pm
Open party log, as promised!
Who: Fiddleford McGucket and anyone in Goldenrod who saw his post -- or hears the ruckus.
Where: The junkyard behind the Goldenrod magnet train station.
When: February 13th!
Summary: A WILD BIRTHDAY HOOTENANNY.
Rating: Moonshine.
Notes: Feel free to treat this like a mingle log and tag around!
When Fiddleford McGucket said party streamers, no one knew that what he meant was dozens and dozens of feet of plastic tape pulled out of old casettes and tied to any high-up piece of old rusty metal McGucket could find.
When Fiddleford McGucket said enough beans for everybody, no one could have known that there would be a bean can mountain over six feet tall piled precariously on a tarp.
When Fiddleford McGucket had said moonshine made from a Ribombee, it might have crossed some more fearful minds that he had meant that literally. Thankfully, he didn't. There are two jugs of the honeystuff going around, and if anyone who's obviously less than sixteen or so gets hold of one of them, they'll find the jar lifted out of their grip by a pair of dirty bandaged hands, possibly while McGucket himself is hanging upside-down above their heads from a garbage edifice. It's good, but don't drink too much of it. There's also nonalcoholic cider that's rather more plentiful. McGucket says it's made from apricorns, but no one is sure how he managed it. It tastes funny but it won't put hair on your chest, unless it does. It also looks not so different from that honeyshine. Be careful not to mix them up.
The banjo music, though, is exactly as promised.
The party is centered around a bonfire with a great big old pot hanging above it, full of cooking beans. The empty cans are being fed to McGucket's Trubbish and a wild one or two around. You might spot a Rattata or a spooked Pidove skittering out of a pile of trash, and McGucket himself has had to chase a Stunky away with his hat more than once.
But he greets every single party guest with a broad smile and a hearty handshake, and you're not leaving this party hungry if he can help it -- as long as you like beans.
Where: The junkyard behind the Goldenrod magnet train station.
When: February 13th!
Summary: A WILD BIRTHDAY HOOTENANNY.
Rating: Moonshine.
Notes: Feel free to treat this like a mingle log and tag around!
When Fiddleford McGucket said party streamers, no one knew that what he meant was dozens and dozens of feet of plastic tape pulled out of old casettes and tied to any high-up piece of old rusty metal McGucket could find.
When Fiddleford McGucket said enough beans for everybody, no one could have known that there would be a bean can mountain over six feet tall piled precariously on a tarp.
When Fiddleford McGucket had said moonshine made from a Ribombee, it might have crossed some more fearful minds that he had meant that literally. Thankfully, he didn't. There are two jugs of the honeystuff going around, and if anyone who's obviously less than sixteen or so gets hold of one of them, they'll find the jar lifted out of their grip by a pair of dirty bandaged hands, possibly while McGucket himself is hanging upside-down above their heads from a garbage edifice. It's good, but don't drink too much of it. There's also nonalcoholic cider that's rather more plentiful. McGucket says it's made from apricorns, but no one is sure how he managed it. It tastes funny but it won't put hair on your chest, unless it does. It also looks not so different from that honeyshine. Be careful not to mix them up.
The banjo music, though, is exactly as promised.
The party is centered around a bonfire with a great big old pot hanging above it, full of cooking beans. The empty cans are being fed to McGucket's Trubbish and a wild one or two around. You might spot a Rattata or a spooked Pidove skittering out of a pile of trash, and McGucket himself has had to chase a Stunky away with his hat more than once.
But he greets every single party guest with a broad smile and a hearty handshake, and you're not leaving this party hungry if he can help it -- as long as you like beans.
no subject
Record scratch noise.
"Smoking gives humans fatal diseases?"
Wrath doesn't smoke himself, obviously. He may have tried to eat a cigarette at one point and that frankly is more than enough to keep him away from them entirely now.
But a lot of his fellow team-mates smoke...
no subject
Hello this is an anti-smoking psa from Harry Mason.
no subject
When the PSA comes to an end, he nods quietly.
"I see. Thank you."
He puts the jug down.
Then he turns around and just... trots away.
He heads all the way out of the dump and to the street.
And then just... keeps jogging.
Goodbye Wrath.
no subject
Goodbye Wrath.
Harry will watch the boy run off and then shake his head before turning back to the party.
Having no idea what he's just done.