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Stefon smoothed both sides of his hair, then put his hands over his mouth and nose, trying not to hyperventilate. It didn't really work, or at least not any better than it usually did. The cost of not gasping and panting was to instead giggle.
Way to start the trip like an adult, Stefon.
"It's not your fault, Stefon," Seth told him. Seth was trying to be soothing, like he would to a little kid maybe, and while one of the things Stefon liked about Seth was his willingness to continually let Stefon try again, in this case it was just irritating. Except that it being not his fault would be a good thing. He smoothed his hair again.
"Not my fault?"
"No. Definitely not. I saw you buy the tickets--"
"Tickets," Stefon echoed. Echoing grounded him. A little.
"And so I know you had them."
"Had them."
"They're not here now, so I guess maybe someone stole them? Could that have happened?"
"Stole them." Stefon put his hands over his mouth and nose again. Seth was probably right.
"Well, anyway, it looks like we can't go on the exact trip we planned. The train is full."
Stefon nodded and looked away. His best shirt felt all wrong. He glanced down. It looked like it usually did. Maybe he was hallucinating. Except, wait, did he have a reason to be hallucinating? Today? Hm.
"You know what? I have an idea," Seth said.
"You do? Is it the same as my idea?"
"I…don't know. What is your idea, Stefon?"
"My idea is kind of kinky. It's that thing where there's Styrofoam shoulder pads and everyone wears glasses while they do karaoke with a very special microphone." Stefon looked down Seth's body. "If you know what I mean."
"Nope, not the same idea. Although I'm sure your idea would be appealing to many, or some, all right at least one, person."
"Too bad."
"No, my idea is, we can go see some of the most interesting sights in my home state."
"There are interesting sights in Virginia?"
"I'm from New Hampshire."
"Yes, I knew that, but that seemed out of the question. New Hampshire is too... new. No old..." Stefon made his hand into a little claw shape over the counter and gestured in a circle. "No old areas to convert into hot clubs.
Seth sighed, and Stefon felt bad for saying it, but he'd only been being honest. The world needed more honesty. "New Hampshire has historical sites, Stefon, and it's not that new.
"It's not?"
"Nope. New Hampshire is the same kind of new as New York."
"Oh!" Stefon felt his eyes go wide. "I never thought about that."
"No kidding. So yes, New Hampshire has history, and there are certainly some roadside attractions we can hit on the way to visit my family. They'd love to see you again. And I know we can see them--the attractions; my family isn't in question--because, let's face it, no one ever goes to visit New Hampshire, except political candidates--"
"Political candidates."
"and they're usually there with a pretty specific agenda."
"Do you have an agenda, Seth? I have an agenda."
"I'm definitely going to regret this. What is your agenda, Stefon?"
"It's that thing where we stop in Las Vegas, where prostitution is legal, and I sell my body to you. Leeeeegally, because that seems to be important to you."
"Yep, regret it. Look, we should just rent a car--"
"A car. Very domestic. You're right, that's probably better than prostitution."
"And head northeast. It'll be fun. Plus, you can see some of the normal things normal people are around, and maybe it will be easier for you to identify the kinds of clubs we're looking for on the show."
"Northeast. Fun. Normal. New Hampshire." Stefon smoothed his hair again. "If only my friends could see me now--except, wait! Stefon's friends are all mad at him awwww."
Seth watched him wave forth awws from the crowd for a minute before saying, "Stefon, we're not on TV right now. There's no audience."
"I can pretend." Stefon folded his arms over his chest and looked the other way again. There was no need for Seth to be mean.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Aww, friends are all mad, but come on, the car rental place is this way."
Stefon let Seth take his arm and lead him, but he still didn't look at him. Pouting took discipline.
"Is that why it's spelled connect-i-cut? Because you cut through it to connect from New York to New Hampshire?" Stefon leaned against the cool glass of the passenger window and watched the road signs go by.
Seth glanced over. "I seriously doubt it, but I have no actual idea."
"Because I always thought maybe there was some kind of network for cutters here. You know, like AA, only with more blood."
"I don't know what to say to that, but I'm betting the guys who named the state would probably be kind of horrified."
"You're being mean again."
Seth shook his head. "No, no, I'm just saying, most of the people naming states have historically been pretty middle of the road as far as not being into, like, fringe behaviors. I'm not judging you, but the founding fathers might be spinning in their graves."
Stefon sat upright. "Really? Is that one of the attractions?"
"What? Oh god. No, figure of speech."
"Oh. When are we going to get to the club, anyway? My wrists are getting itchy."
"Your wrists? Do I want to know? No, I probably don't. Not long," Seth said. "We just have to cross Massachusetts. I don't suppose you have any theories about that one."
"That what?"
"State. The name. Massachusetts."
"Oh, no. No theories." Stefon went back to leaning against the window. "Will there be any dancing at the club?"
"I... don't know. We'll see what we can find. Stefon, are you okay? You seem a little depressed."
"No, I'm the same. Just like always."
"Okay." Seth sounded doubtful, but then, he doubted Stefon a lot, so that wasn't new. "So, which do you want to see first, the museum or the horse?"
Stefon turned away from the window to stare. "Horse? Like the ones in Central Park?"
"Not quite."
"Oh. Well then, museum, I guess."
"Excellent." Seth poked at the GPS interface for a minute, and kept driving. Stefon went back to leaning and tried to ignore his heartbeat long enough to go to sleep.
"Stefon, we're here." Seth pushed at Stefon's shoulder.
"Ow! No poking." Stefon frowned and added, deepening his voice, "unless it's a different kind of--"
"Stefon. No, no poking. Okay. We're at the camping museum."
"Camp?" Stefon looked around. Maybe New Hampshire had some hidden-away places he hadn't seen at Christmastime. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Seth chuckled. "Come on. Let's go have a look."
"All right, so tents aren't good for dancing in," Seth said.
"Terrible. Very unstable. That pole just tipped right over."
"I'm pretty sure it was for display only."
Stefon rubbed his sore shoulder. For structures made of thin fabric, tents could really hurt. "This is what normal people do?"
"Not the dancing part, but the museum itself? Normal people do go camping, sometimes. If they're into that sort of thing."
"Ew. Too.. outside. What was the other place?"
"Trojan horse."
"Trojan--!"
Seth's eyes widened. "Um. If you're thinking anything to do with condoms, on or off of horses, that's not what."
"Oh." Stefon wrinkled his nose. "Is there a carriage to ride around in?"
"What? No. The horse is made of wood. Like the one in the story? Greek? Soldiers? Hiding in the horse?"
"Sounds sticky. Can we hide in the horse together, Seth?"
"Maybe we should cross that one off the list. There's a four-legged chicken place nearby, but I'm pretty sure it's not alive, so that leaves stairs to nowhere and the chair."
"Fine." Stefon went back to rubbing his shoulder. "You choose."
"All right, Stefon. The rocking chair should be just around the curve."
"Rock isn't really my thing, Seth, but if it's loud, well, for you."
Seth glanced over in the way that meant he was about to say something Stefon didn't want to hear, so he put his hands over his ears. And watched the road as they went around the curve.
And there it was. Stefon jumped out of the car and ran to the foot of the chair.
"Uh. Stefon?" Seth jogged up behind him. "You okay?"
"Seth! This chair!"
"Is enormous. Yeah."
"It has everything!" He started listing on his fingers. "It has legs, planks, yellow thing in the sky--"
"The sun?"
"Yeah, that. And a Stidget!"
"A..."
"Stefon midget! And a Seth one, a sidget! We're the midgets!"
"Stefon, you understand that term is, like, wildly offensive? That a lot of people who are small because of a genetic difference don't really like to be called midgets?"
"Really?"
"Yeah. Some prefer little people, and some prefer people with dwarfism..."
Stefon shrugged. "Okay. We're the steeple with dwarfism."
"I'm pretty sure that's still kind of uncool."
"Stittle people sounds stupid. Help me climb up."
Seth looked like he might argue further, then shook his head. "I don't know if we're allowed to climb up, Stefon. It might be like the pole. Remember how that went."
"Baaaadly. But! You wanted Stefon to see normal things. Normal people have giant chairs. Help me up."
"I...okay, sure. Why not." Seth made a basket of his hands and held it for Stefon's foot, boosting him up. "How's that?"
Stefon grabbed at the seat and looked down at Seth's face, inches from his fly, and let go with one hand to press over his mouth to avoid saying something that would just freak Seth out. Finally, he reached for the seat again. "Yeah, Seth, this place has everything."