Con: *walks into the place and picks out a table*
Ryan: ..... Dude, why are you buying furniture? Con: *straitens jacket* Sometimes I like to have a place to eat besides over the sink, man Ryan: What do you mean, there's always the dining room
Ryan:... as empty as it is Con: the dining room...hey, isn't that where I was hanging my clothes?
Ryan: Probably, there's not too many rooms
Con: yeah, must be, I was using the room with the washer in it for poker
Ryan: !!! There's a washer?!
Con: if you move a few hundred things *checks out a few more of the dining room sets* Ryan: Do we have money for anything here?
Con: shhh! I can pretend Ryan: Are you gonna pretend a table and a coupla chairs outta here?
Con: well....I don't think they'd fit under my jacket *hangs head* Con: *glare* you don't have any money, do ya? Ryan: I'm not shopping for furniture!
Con: what do you waste your money on?
Ryan: Weapon upkeep, what else? Con: *growls lowly* Con: *sigh* guess we better go someplace else? Ryan: Where would you put any of this stuff, anyway? Con: *looks longingly at a bug-table* Next to the washer....hey, maybe we should get an ironing board. That would make a good table
Con: and it might actually fit in the place Ryan: And storable Con:*sigh* where to? Ryan: Home Appliances? Con: >> why would I want home applainces if I didn't have a table??
Ryan: Moron, where else are you gonna find an ironing board? Con: home living--*to himself* which is the same thing *doesn't admit that*
Ryan: You know what would be worth our money to buy? Con: *sarcastic enthusiam* No Ryan! I don't! Enlighten me! Ryan: *glare* We could sell our apartment( ?) and but a ship..... furniture not necessary Con: oh, yeah. brilliant. What the hell do we need a ship for?
Con: other than to prove I'm a better mechanic than you?> Ryan: *shrug* Mobile home theory? And I could so out-mechanic you any day Con: *glare* you could not! I've got natural skillz Ryan: *I'm* the one with the natural skillz! Con: wait a second*coughi'mbetterthanyoucough* even if we did your wierd-theory of buyin a ship, would our apartment pay off for that kinda thing? I mean, we could sell it and get pretty much no money, it's a real small place *coughimbettercough* Ryan: ...I know a place where we could get a ship for about as much as we've got
Con: you know a place?...I'm afraid of you knowing places, man.
Ryan: It's legit, alright? Heard about it on the radio Con:....the real radio? or that one they keep inside the bar?
Con: wouldn't wanna end up with something weird...like a ship full of eggs from 20X Ryan: Just trust me, alright? Con: I'd never trust you *sideways grin* but I guess it wouldn't hurt to look * besides, that chance to show you up on mechanics is sounding pretty sweet right about now Ryan: You could never show me up in anything
Con: swordsmanship! Con: Mechanics! Ryan: You lie! Con: I could write you a list, at the top is peanut butter and jelly sandwiches! Ryan: What's that supposed to mean?! Con: You skimp on the jelly man! But thats not the point Ryan: I can prepare my food any way I like! Con: Ugh, nevermind. I'm stil better than you. And taller. Wheres this place you were talkin about? Ryan: It's across town. And I'm taller than you, blind-one Con: only your freakish hair Ryan. I'm taller than the top of your hair. Lets get going. Ryan: My Hair Is Not Freakish Con: oh no. I've insulted the do. I wonder what would happen if someone were to ruffle your little alfalfa there? *holds up hand and grins like he's gonna pat Ryan's head* Ryan: *chops off your hand* Con: Ittai! what was that for? Ryan: Oh, you know quite well what that was for Con: yeah. Thats where all the money goes; hair crap. Ryan: ........... Con: *rubs sore hand* Lets go Ryan: Fine Con: *takes a few steps, turns, grins, ruffles Ryan's hair and runs outta the furnature store at lightening speedz* Ryan: ..!!!!!!!!!!! YOU'RE GONNA DIE, FOOOL!!!! *runs after* Con: *way ahead, running blindly to the vague area described as "across town"* Ryan: *oh, yeah, can't run as fast ^^;;* Con: *sticks out tongue and keeps on running* Ryan: *pulls out cross bow* Con: eeep! *bookz* Ryan: *takes aim......fires!* Con: *hits self in the head* I'm such an idiot! He has ranged weapons, and what did I do? I gave him RANGE! geez! Why don't I just--*bolt goes through bottom part of his pant leg/hits the ground, stoppin him?* Ryan: *runs up from behind and knocks you over* Ryan: *aims at your head* Con: *oofffhh!*
Ryan: *stares at you...fires..bolt quivers in the ground right next to your ear* Ryan: *disarms crossbow, puts out a hand* So, that ship place is around here somewhere Con: ugh. I'm such an idiot. You have ranged weapons. Why didn't I see that one coming, huh? *grins shamefacedly and takes Ryan's hand* Ryan: You said it yourself, idiot *grins* Con: *back on his feet?* you didn't win anything. *dusts himself off* I wasn't paying attention. *looks around* Somewhere around here, huh?...looks kinda shabby around here...you sure that radio thing was legit? Ryan: I did too win *grabs the bolts* It's off this way Con: I really like these pants *looks at the hole and goes in the direction Ryan points* Ryan: Those pants are ugly *walks* Con: come off it, look at what you wear. military boy. *looks around curiously* Ryan: Military clothes are highly efficient! Con: and mine are comfortable! *adjusts strap to the sword on his back* Ryan: *puts crossbow..somewhere* and ugly Con: you too *looks into a darkened shop* Wheres this fabled ship shop? Ryan: *looks around* The radio said.... over here~ Con: *sighs and shoves ryan in that direction* Know the name of it?
Ryan: *stumbles a step that way* Something stupid, *sees it* like that Con: *looks up and reads the dusty sign* Al's Ship Shop, huh? Almost sounds like a country music store *walks in* Ryan: *shudders* Country... *follows* Con: *looks around at the huge...place* oh my god. Look at all this crap. Con: lucky us, we might get that egg ship after all ryan Ryan: Crap indeed
Ryan: Do you think he's even got any whole ships here? Con: I'm gonna go ahead and say, yes, but in crap form. *nod* *hears something an focuses in on it*...oh no....awww man....thats not...country music..is it? *runs hand over face* Ryan: *cringes* how much you wanna bet that we gotta head towards the evil? Con: that half-eaten bagel in the fridge. I hate when I'm right. No, wait, I hate when you're right. *walks* Ryan: Whatever, man. *follows slowly* Con: *rounds the corner to see the happy/plump texan doing a little jig next to an old fashion cd player?* Ryan: Gawd, does he have to be doing that? Con: People sell thier soul to sell space ships. *nods in disgust and walks forwards* Ryan: For once I think you gotta be right Al: Well Hooowdy Buckaroos! You two look like your looking for a spaceship and thinks i'm just the guy to help ya out! What can I do yah for!? *pats the cd player and turns it down a bit*
Ryan: You got any ships in this ship...shop..? Con: *looks at Ryan with an eyebrow raised* *whispers* I think there's still time to get away... Al: Why a'course cowboy! What kinda ship you all lookin for?
Ryan: One that runs, cheap
Con: omg...he has spurs. *sad face*
Al: Well then, comma right this away!
Al: *goes thataway*
Ryan: ..A'ight Con: We could run now, we still have an apartment Ryan: Apartments don't travel the stars, now do they? Con: *dramatic* oh man! they don't!?! Oh god! My beliefs! they've been shattered into a million peices and scattered among the galaxy as space dust! *frowns at Ryan and follows the crazy Texan* Ryan: *hits Con upside the head* Drama Queen Con: texan lover Ryan: Short guy Con: thats it. When we get home, I am measuring you, shorty!
Al: Yee haw! Comma right this way gents! We got just what your lookin for, I garentee it!*
Ryan: Your guarantee wouldn't have money involved, would it?
Al: *tips his hat* Oh lawd no! A free bumber sticker fur yur ship!
Al: *leads thw two back to the far left corner to a selection of ships* these should be in about your price range, imma guessing you don't gots much in yur pockets!
Ryan: actually, we don't really have anything right now, but we can get ..some Al: *frowns at you and sticks his face in yours and whispers* look here kid, I have a job to do here. If you don't have any money, don't waste my time. *leans back and adjusts his pants* yee haw! Looks lika some other customerz are a'comin! *shuffles off to greet them*
Ryan: *hits head* Stoo-pid Con: well...that went well. Ryan: Oh, yeah, like you could do better Con: I wouldn't tell the crazy texan I didn't have money Ryan: >> What would you do, o-smart-one? Con: *grins* I'd lie Con: Look, as long as we're here lets check out the ships Ryan: ...fine Con: *starts walking around and looking at all the ships* man....so much crap! some of this stuff doesn't look like it could fly even with BOTH of us working on it! Ryan: I wouldn't trust anything *you've* worked on Con: same here, man. Didn't you program that microwave that blew up?
Ryan: *That* was for science Con: *unhideable grin/turns away so Ryan doesn't see it* See anything even remotely useable? Ryan: *looking under a ship* Hardly. You? Con: *sigh*....looks like anything in "our price range" is gonna be crap....anything you got stored up, or that we could pawn to get somethin better? Ryan: *thinks* I don't think I've ever had any money to buy anything that could be pawned Con: *looks at a ship* Whoa, I think something took a bite outta that one -.-;;......me either, really. *sigh* Well, lets see what we find *goes off looking at the under-sides* Ryan: *shrugs* Con: *goes about looking at the crappy ships, counting the dents in the hulls. One seems to be without landing gear and is on it's side O.o* *stops at one* hmmm, not so crappy. Hey Ryan, check it out? Ryan: *pops up from somewhere* Hmmm? Con: This one's got all it's fingers! *points at the large red ship* Imma check out the inside Ryan: *looks round the outside* Not bad, definitely better than any here.. Con: *goes up into the spaceship to check ou the interior* Ryan: *follows* Con: *can't hide the grin* man! this place is huge--well, for a ship! *goes into the next room* A washer! AND A DRYER! Ryan: Gasp Con: Hey!!! Theres a table bigger than an ironing board in here! AND a sink!! Con: *hugs table and curses sink* Ryan: Man, the cargo hold is as big as the main rooms! Con: We have no cargo! We could make it into a game room! Con:...or get a job as delivery boyz! Ryan: That sounds so wrong Con: common man, think about it! If we got a good job delivering things, this ship would pay for itself! Ryan: Or we could work completely unrelated to the ship, and still make sense Con: I'd hit you if I wasn't so happy. Ah, what the hell *hits and marches off into the cockpit* Whoo! This is NICE Ryan: >> *goes after* Ryan: What's this down here? *goes down poorly-drawn ladders to the lower deck*
Con: *hops into the pilot seat and goes off into flights of imagination, steering*
Ryan: *looks back passageways* This goes back to the cargo bay! Con: This is a *very* nice ship....I wonder how far we walked outta the "crap--/our price range" section to get to this baby? Ryan: Very very far, by the looks of it *sits in lower seat and swivels* but man, isn't it nice Con:...Theres gotta be a way to get it...but crazy cowman doesn't like us much, I think
Ryan: Stupid currency
Ryan: You feel it's worth fighting for?
Ryan: *swivels some more and checks out displays, then walks back the lower passage*
Con: *exits the ship and into the shipyard once more and looks for signs of the over-happy-texan*
ryan: *jumps down outta the ship* Con: Hey Al! *signs over the jolly fat man* Hey, can we have a word?
Al: *hops on over* lookie here kids, you're free tah browz the floor, but don't bother me if you don't got funds, yah hear?
Ryan: We'll get money!
Al: Not for this you won't. I saw yuh eye'n it, and tis pretty nice, but way outta you range, I can tell yuh by just lookin at you
Al: 'sides kids, you ain't wanting this ship.B'longs to a dead man! Gitcha eye on sumthin else, kid
Ryan: Dead man, huh?
Al: Yes indeedie! Dead as a door-nail and ain't nobody knows why! seller sayed it was cursed, but i figure i can sell anythin! yee haw!
Con: ugh. ghost story, nice touch *roles eyes*
Ryan: So, what, you figure this one's a bit hard to sell? Al: Yessir I reckon so! And at a good profit, one you ain't got on yuh, so skat
Ryan: Waitaminite
Ryan: How long have you been trying to sell this ship?
Al: *tilts hat* well...I reckon I've had it 'bout four months
Ryan: And how many people have wanted to buy it?
Al: S'no buisiness of urs! This a'goin somewhere buckaroo? gotz customers!
Ryan: You hold on, 'buckaroo'! I'll betcha his nasty old bagel that we're the first in four months who've offered to buy this ghost ship
Con: My bagel is a person betting tool!;but I agree!
Al: *looks about* And if yah were?
Ryan: I'd say it's worth your time to sell it too us for whate'er we got
Al: I'll....think it! Whatcha got?
Ryan: ...well, we don't want to gyp you, we just really want this ship Con: *fills him on about what we have?*
Ryan: And that's it Al: I paid a third less than that to buy it offda the guy, yessir. Barely no profit for me cowboy
Ryan: *hits head* you bought it from somebody just like us, didn't you? Al: Ghah! The place is gettin packed!....G'won, you got a deal. Y'better sign these papers sos when you come back with the money I don't hava change tah change my mind, now git outta mah hair! *pulls a peice of paper from his back pocket and hands to Ryan/runs off to tend to customers, all country-like*
Ryan: *takes papers*
Con: WHOO! *tackles Ryan* I can't believe you pulled that off! Con: You can have my bagel. Ryan: oouf! Get offa me! I dun want your nasty bagel! Con: I coulda pulled that off myself--but geez man! Look at this ship! It's great! It runs and everything....once we go get the money, we could fly it right outta here, unlike some of the other crap! Ryan: so what are we s'posed to do with these? *waves papers* Con: uhh...sign 'em? Give them back to chubz? Ryan: *looks at 'em* Alright, simple enough Con: You sure you want the "haunted ship" in your name? Ryan: ...what, you don't? Con: *grins* dead-man's-ship, gimme a break Ryan: Yeah, well, I don't see you jumpin' to sign for it Con: give it here, I'll sign Ryan: No, waitaminite Con: *grumbles* waiting for...? Ryan: Should we sign it together...? Con:....yeah, since we're both payin for it, we should both own half Con: I call the cockpit Con: and the bathroom, gotta have a bathroom Ryan: *raises eyebrow* you don't mean half literally? Con: *grins* I could get rich charging yah 5 dollars every time you gotta pee Con: *signs some papers?* Ryan: don't hog it! Con: chill out shorty *finishes his sig* Ryan: *grabs it and signs too* Con: Now, where do we leave it? Ryan: Dunno, where is he? Con: Hoping around infront of that old CD player, clicking his heels together...o.o; Ryan: ....On second thought, let's just take it with us... Con: I think I agree on this one Ryan: Feel like moving out today? Con: Who wouldn't when you got this to come home to? *grins up at spaceship* damn...thats a nice ship. Ryan: Ain't we lucky? Con: Couple of lucky bastards, thats us. Lets go move the stuff outta our place and get the money, we could move into that ship tonight Ryan: Sounds good to me we can write somthing like " Ryan and Conner emptied out thier apartment and sold it without problems. They paid the creepy texan his money and moved in that very afternoon. Late that evening, they went out for a drink at thier local bar to celebrate thier good fortune.
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