dear_mun | What am I even doing?

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canon: cabin in the woods

What am I even doing?

Ain't gonna do a little puppet dance, puppeteer. Nope. That's not how this show is going to run. See, I'm... I'm really stoned. But! But, I'm also my own person. My own incredibly high person. Who will, hopefully, be even stoned-ier and assisting my dear, ol' buddy Nemo in Sleepland or Dreamland; whatever. Just... Just gotta read a book with pictures in it.

Seriously. Nemo's gotta wake up. Shit's all topsy turvy.

...Man. Mun. What if... What if I'm Nemo? Ah, shit. What if you're Nemo and I'm just a dream? So, when you wake up, I'm gonna die.

Fuck what I said. Nemo, man. Nemo. Stay asleep. If you wake up I'm haunting you and eating all your poptarts.

...Hey, mun, you got any food?

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Sorry man, but no one's dreaming here. This is all way too damn real.

...Curt...

[It's odd to think someone can look so serious when stoned off his face.]

What did you do to your hair?

[ Sam eyes the guy, as though he could be crazy. But then he lets out a sigh of frustration. ]

Sam. My name is Sam. Why the hell do you people keep asking about my hair?!

Sam...?

Christ, this is more puppet-master bullshit, isn't it? Well, I'm not playing, man. I won't do a little puppet dance for you or your government.

[He huffs, absently searching his pockets for one of his many joints in order to calm his nerves. He still doesn't enjoy the idea of taking walks after, well, you know.]

Quit messing around, Curt. You're freaking me out.

[Ah. There is it. Joint number... well, let's not number them.]

Jesus! I'm SAM! Not Curt. Not Thor. Not whatever other name you want to call me! Sam Phelan from--

[ He eyes the joint, suspiciously. ]

What the hell is that?

[Shush, jointy, don't listen to this non-believer. Good ol' Marty will smoke you, even if nobody else will. Speaking of which, excuse him while he lights up.]

It's a jay. A joint. A doobie. A geeter. A once-around. A cone. A Jamaican jelly-roll. A bomber. A fattie.

[Bringing the cigarette to his lips, Marty smiles softly.]

Wanna hit it, too? I'm cool with sharing.

[ He wrinkles his nose in disgust, stepping back as the other guy lights up. ]

I don't smoke.

That explains all the "puppeteer" talk...

Getting high saved my life. Stopped all the other shit from getting in.

[He sighs, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.]

And the puppeteers are out there. You just gotta look.

[ He fans the smoke away from his face, coughing. ]

...do I even want to know what you're talking about?

Would you even believe me?

Got my ass kicked by a Norse god with freaky horn cause I kinda looked like his brother. So...maybe.

My friends and I went to this cabin. All off the G.P.S, you know? Totally unmarked on maps. So, we're all just hangin' around, when everyone starts acting all weird. Anyway, we found a cellardoor full of weird crap and ended up being picked off one by one by fucking redneck torture zombies. Turns out it's all part of some kind of bullshit ritual organized by the world's governments to keep ancient Gods happy, 'cause apparently dead college kids gives them husband bulges.

[Give him a second, he needs more pot.]

And because I lived, the ritual was all fucked up and the apocalypse begun.

[Another long, long intake.]

Shit's all topsy turvy.

[ He looks between the guy and his joint, as if trying to decide whether to believe him. ]

What about...what was his name? Chris? Curt! Did he-- wait. No. Nevermind. I don't wanna know.

Hell... Does ANYONE around here come from somewhere not totally fucked?

Beats me. I'm just gonna chill here while I'm safe, you know? Toke up while the doobie is hot.

Yeah, don't be so sure about that whole safe thing.

This is no dream, friend! We have all been brought to this realm, and others, for many different purposes!

Ah, fuck this, man!

[Too many Curts with odd haircuts. Way too goddamn many. This is like a million bad trips all at once.]

This is way too goddamn weird for me.

Not many mortals are accustomed to things such as this, to being brought to a new realm with such speed. But you will see that this is no terrible place! That it offers many gifts! Here, allow me to show you!

[ With a sweep of his arm, he reveals a feast fitting for an Asgardian army. ]

Edited 2012-07-03 10:57 (UTC)

...

[Hold up. This stuff looks pretty ancient. And that Sam guy did mention there were Gods wandering around.

Thor better not be one of those ancient Gods, otherwise Marty's going to give him a very stern talking to.]

While I appreciate the feast, I kinda have to ask; are you an ancient God? 'Cause it's a pretty big deal, man.

[ That was strange. Usually the question of his godhood came AFTER the introduction, not before. ]

To some, yes. I am Thor, son of Odin!

I see. Well, then. While I'd usually eat all your food - I mean, I'd devour that stuff - I've gotta let you know that you and all your God pals are assholes. I dunno what it was like back in ye olde times, but these days, you can't go around torturing college kids 'cause it gets you a husband bulge.

So, with no offense meant to your Godliness, fuck you, fuck your friends and fuck your demonic ritual that ended up killing all my friends.

[And with that, Marty flings a piece of paper he was planning on using to roll another joint right at Thor's face. Take that, friend killer.]

[ He watches the paper as it fails to reach his face and floats to the ground. Then looks at Marty with great concern. ]

My people do not resort to torture, especially not of anyone from Midgard. It is terrible that you had to face such horrors, and it saddens me that you have lost your friends.

Do you know the names of those that call themselves ancient Gods? If they are killing innocent mortals under such a claim, they must be stopped!

WhOa BrO
AiNt AbOuT dOiNg No PuPpEtEeRs DaNcE
NeVeR wAs
S'aLl AbOuT jUsT rOlLinG wItH iT
AnD dOiNg YoUr OwN dAnCe
BeCaUsE wHeN yOu Do YoUr OwN mOtHeRfUcKiNg DaNcE
nO oNe Up AnD pUlLs ThE sTrInGs BuT yOu :o)

You're not one of those demon clowns, right? Because my organs and I have a very close, intimate relationship.

If ThIs BrOtHeR wAs Up AnD bEiNg A dEmOn I tHiNk HeD uP aNd KnOw AbOuT it :o)
OnLy oRgAn Im MoThErFuCkInG iNtErEsTed In Is A sWeEt MoThErFuCkInG pIpEoRgan.
HoNk.

Oh. Sorry, man, didn't mean to be racist or anything. Just gotta be careful, you know? Need each of these organs. Even the weird ones like the liver.

NaW mAn ItS aLl cOoL
GeT tHaT mIsTaKe A lOt Yo
TruSt Me
BeInG pRoTeCtIvE oF yOuR mEaTsUiT iS a GoOd MoThErFuCkInG pLaN

[Emotions are...all over the place with this guy.

So far nothing hurts... yet.]

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What am I even doing?

I couldn't resist

Mistaken identity ftw~!

Hey, it could have been Thor! (which have, as well)

...This giant bong... I like it! BRING ME ANOTHER!

Oh god, stoned Thor would be....interesting.

And terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.

Or amazing.

Or amazingly terrifying.

That, too!

I'd imagine he'd sit around crying out for Loki to come home

That'd break my heart! Maybe he'd just tell everyone how AWESOME Loki is.

"Guys, we should all hang out with my brother. He's got that frost giant chronic."

....then we'd get stoned Loki. Now THAT'S terrifying.

...OH GOD.

He would tell everyone his plots to take over the world. Then conquer their snacks.

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Stoner, meet stoner

These two, man. These two

Re: These two, man. These two

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No regrets...(P.S. You're awesome.)