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The Good Place Drabbles

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“Hi. My name is Eleanor Shellstrop. And I need you.”

He blinked at her. 

“To teach me philosophy. I thought you’d get that from context clues. It doesn’t matter.”

He stood up, slowly. “Are you a student here?”

“That’s actually a funny story. No.” 

“Do you have a suitcase?” Chidi asked her. 

“Oh, yeah, by the way. I know this sounds a little weird, but I just spent almost all my money on my plane ticket. And then the rest of my money just trying to get a decent burrito in the airport. Can I stay with you?”

“You’re telling me you got on an airplane to fly out here from, I’m guessing here, America–”

“Phoenix, Arizona.” 

 “America, based solely on a YouTube video, so you can take a class other people pay money for, and you want me to house you in the process?”

Her mouth went a little dry. Maybe she should have called first.



“I’ve been trying this new thing lately. I’m taking improv classes, trying to become more decisive. There’s this concept called yes, and, where you must agree to whatever idea is presented.”

Ugh, Eleanor thought. Improv.  

“I’ll admit, the first three to six months were absolute hell. There were a lot of tears. Some of them were mine. But I’m making progress. I agreed to using a Russian accent in a scene last night. And now this.”

And now this. Listen, I should probably lie down for a quick twelve hour nap. I did not sleep on those flights. Where’s home?”

He looked at her, his eyes going wide. “I guess your home is… with me.”