01 | video

[freedrinkplease]

[ It's evident on Pig's face--rather how he doesn't look up--that he's in his own world. Distant. A tongue darts out to lick dried lips and blue eyes focus on the screen--he's got a definite Irish accent, certainly from Cork, but the way he's dropping words and rearranging sentences is still a little jarring. ]

There we be. Pig and Runt. Warm like. Drinky drinky and I says "Happy Birthday, Runt!" And she? She smiles. [ There's a bit of a laugh but there's absolutely no humour in it. ]

But now where Pig, eh? Where Pig? No club, no fucking Runt. No Runt--No Runt.

Just.... Pig.

Where he be, yeah?

Comments

[worldofourown]

Perhaps, yes.

[Back in asshole mode now.]

However, if you want to curry favor with the Good Lord, so Runt may join you, you'd best start praying...

[freedrinkplease]

Right.

'Oh lord Jesus, who be fuckin' around in heaven, gimmie Runt back an' make sure I be on my way back to Cork, okeydokey? Tickity-tock in my head be no good.'

Like that?

[worldofourown]

That was beautiful.

I'm sure wherever Lord Jesus is, he's in a poignant swoon over the heartfelt prayer. [Snerksnerk.] I trust you'll be seeing this...Runt very soon.

[Utter liessss!]

[freedrinkplease]

Hah.

Even the Jesus fella got nothin' on Pig.