Work Text:
_______________________________________________________________________________
NEW MESSAGE
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: Lemma To: You 11:25a.m.
Hey Jon! You're five!
To: Lemma 11:26a.m.
Fuck you very much too, Lemma. What's that for?
From: Lemma To: You 11:27a.m.
I didn't say it. Jade did.
To: Lemma 11:27a.m.
Who the fuck is Jade?
From: Lemma To: You 11:28a.m.
Some chick on the Forums.
To: Dean, Hitman 11:29a.m.
Lemma's on the forums again.
From: Hitman To: You, Dean 11:29a.m.
Oh, hell.
From: Dean To: You, Hitman 11:29a.m.
Greeeaaaat.
From: Lemma To: You, Dean, Hitman 11:31a.m.
I know you're talking about me. My ears are burning.
From: Hitman To: You, Dean, Lemma 11:33a.m.
Shouldn't that be your fingers burning?
From: Lemma To: You, Dean, Hitman 11:34a.m.
Oh, a drum droll! How quaint.
To: Dean, Hitman, Lemma 11:34a.m.
Anyway, why am I five?
From: Lemma To: You, Dean, Hitman 11:36a.m.
Oh, that picture where you're porking Dot in the Soul Kitchen.
To: Dean, Hitman, Lemma 11:36a.m.
WHAT?!
From: Hitman To: You, Dean, Lemma 11:38a.m.
Isn't that a Health Code violation?
From: Lemma To: You, Dean, Hitman 11:38a.m.
Sorry. Autocorrect. Meant patting.
To: Dean, Hitman, Lemma 11:39a.m.
Autocorrect my ass.
From: Lemma To: You, Dean, Hitman 11:40a.m.
You're not my type. I'm sure Richie would be glad to autocorrect your ass, though.
To: Dean, Hitman, Lemma 11:40a.m.
LEMMA!
From: Dean To: You, Hitman, Lemma 11:41a.m.
Can't correct perfection, Dave.
From: Hitman To: You, Dean, Lemma 11:41a.m.
Jesus, my eyes.
From: Dean To: You, Hitman, Lemma 11:42a.m.
Much as I'd love to do this, guys, I am trying to work here.
To: Dean, Hitman, Lemma 11:44a.m.
Sorry, Rich. We'll let you go. Dave, stay off the Internet.
From: Lemma To: You, Dean, Hitman 11:45a.m.
But I'm bored!
To: Dean, Hitman, Lemma 11:45a.m.
Now who's five?
From: Lemma To: You, Dean, Hitman 11:46a.m.
Don't take that tone with me, young'un.
From: Hitman To: You, Dean, Lemma 11:48a.m.
Dave, go write another play if you're that bored.
From: Lemma To: You, Dean, Hitman 11:49a.m.
At least you didn't suggest I take up golf.
From: Hitman To: You, Dean, Lemma 11:51a.m.
I know better than to trust you around projectile objects.
From: Dean To: You, Hitman, Lemma 11:51a.m.
Duck!
To: Dean, Hitman, Lemma 11:52a.m.
Goose, you mean.
From: Lemma To: You, Dean, Hitman 11:53a.m.
So that's how Richie hits those high notes.
From: Hitman To: You, Dean, Lemma 11:54a.m.
I'm leaving now.
To: Dean, Hitman, Lemma 11:54a.m.
Fuck off, Dave.
From: Dean To: You, Hitman, Lemma 11:54a.m.
Can it, Rashbaum.
From: Hitman To: You, Dean, Lemma 11:55a.m.
Dave, go harass the internet more if you're bored.
From: Luke Ebbin To: You, Hitman, Lemma 11:56a.m.
Guys, Richie really is trying to work here.
From: Hitman To: You, Dean, Lemma, Luke Ebbin 11:56a.m.
Sorry, Luke.
To: Dean, Hitman, Lemma, Luke Ebbin 11:57a.m.
Sorry, Luke. Dave, STAY OFF THE INTERNET.
From: Lemma To: You, Dean, Hitman, Luke Ebbin 11:58a.m.
How about I don't and say I did?
From: Hitman To: You, Dean, Lemma, Luke Ebbin 11:59a.m.
Look out, ladies.
To: Dean, Hitman, Lemma, Luke Ebbin 12:00p.m.
Sigh...
~END~