Shadow Eyes cocks his head in a very doggie gesture indeed, and pads away. Soon after, Elan pops in by the same door, looking around exaggeratedly. "So," he says. "My secret ID is still safe." He looks to Thomas. "GnawerBoy at your service, citizen." He gives a broad grin and poses in a very comic book fashion.
Thomas grins bemusedly at Elan until he catches sight of Pid. He stares.
Piddles looks up and grins toothily at all and sundry. "Ho ho ho!" he bellows. "Merree Creesmass! Feliz Navidad!"
Elan also looks at his packmate, and leans against the door, laughing.
Thomas breaks down into helpless laughter - a response that Pid seems to provoke not infrequently. "Merry Christmas, Pid."
Elan walks over and slaps his packmate on the back, laughing. "You're great, man." He looks over to Thomas. "You know Pid and me are tight, yeah? Pack, an' all that?"
Thomas nods, still smiling.
Piddles holds out his day's booty for inspection. A bowl full of change, even containing a few green flecks of paper, greets any inspection. He looks enormously proud. "Eeza goood day fer shakin' da pan, ya? Pid eeven borry a jeeengul bell frommanudder Santee."
"They probably thought you were the Salvation Army," says Thomas. "Little do they know."
Elan gives a chuckle. "Pid? Um, they thought they were giving that to charity, man? You know?"
Piddles grins again. "'Ey, Pid, he salving peepul, yah?" He nods at Elan. "Pid, he know. All dis fer Creesmas dinnur fer de folkee at de church an' heer. All de broke folk, yah?"
Elan nods. "I figger'd, yeah. Just makin' sure, man."
Thomas hears this without surprise, as well.
Piddles flops down on the floor and runs his fingers through the change. "Pid count on de way home. Almos' fortee doller. Buy big turkee, yah?"
Elan nods at this. "Yeah! That's a good sized bird, alright. Good ham, too."
Thomas's eyebrows lift. "Be kind to broke Jewish folk. Get the turkey," he suggests sardonically.
Elan slaps his forehead. "You're right, dude."
Piddles eyes his day's catch greedily, briefly, seemingly contemplating whether anyone would notice the absence of enough change for a Big Mac, then sighs and sets the bowl aside. "Who shuld Pid geev eet to? Pid shur ain't goin'ta buy de food, nah."
Elan smiles. "I'd be able to buy it. Or Thomas, here, could."
Thomas blinks at his inclusion in what he had considered 'pack business.' Belatedly he says, "Sure. Yes, of course. If you like."
Piddles bestows the spoils in a grand manner upon the folding table. "Izza yu guyz. Pid, he just de hunter, yah? Yu skin an' cookit?" He grins and winks.
Elan smiles. "I can cook up a very good meal. Even if I do say so myself."
Thomas gives a bark of laughter at Pid's announcement, and lets Elan decide which of them will go to retrieve Pid's kill.
Elan thinks for a bit. "Why don't you, Thomas? You mind?"
Thomas shakes his head. "Not at all. My pleasure. One turkey? Anything else?"
Piddles hums to himself briefly, then looks up. "Howsabout raspberry jam and apple-tart and mince-pies and cheese and pork-pie and salad and more cakes -- and ale -- and coffee, if you don't mind?"
Thomas's eyebrows rise again. "I see why you're not doing the shopping," he murmurs. "We don't have enough for it, Pid. Is anyone else contributing?"
Elan smiles. "I'm sure Jimmy is. He can probably cover the bill."
Piddles inquires with a blink, "Hooos gonna do de deeshes?"
Thomas nods. "Whatever you say."
Piddles hums to himself again, rocking and staring thoughtfully into space.
Elan says "I'll do the dishes, Pid. We'll all help. You know that."
Piddles grins and dreamily recites,
"Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!
Pour the milk on the pantry floor!
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!
Splash the wine on every door!
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;
Pound them up with a thumping pole;
And when you've finished, if any are whole,
Send them down the hall to roll!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
So, carefully! carefully with the plates!"
Thomas gazes at Pid and shakes his head wonderingly.
Piddles grins. "Pidza reedin' De Hobbit now."
Thomas nods. "I can tell. I haven't read that since it came out."
Elan falls over laughing. "Oooover Misty mountains Cooooolld..."
Piddles grins excitedly. "Yuz olllld, Thomas! Yu red it wen it firs' made?" He nearly bounces at Elan. "Izza Pid's favrit song!
'Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold.'"
Elan joins in at the last of that. "Never read the book. Saw the cartoon, though."
Piddles gleefully offers, "Pid, he reedin' it ta Emmy now, he reed it ta yu layter?"
Thomas chuckles. "I was sixteen. Remember it vividly. I had to read it in ten minute snatches and hide the book under my mattress. Rarely been so frustrated." He smiles benignly at the memory, viewing it from a safe distance.
Elan smiles to Pids. "I'd like that," he says then looks to Thomas. "Your parents?"
Thomas nods wryly. "My father. He was damned if his son was going to waste his brains on fairy tales." His voice holds, for a moment, the faint echo of a harsher, deeper voice than his own, one with w east coast, working class accent. He shrugs, and adds in his own voice, with his own irony, "There were a lot of things my father was going to be damned if I did. I hope he wasn't."
Elan's eyes sparkle a bit, and nods at hearing this. "So, now you're living a fairy tale, huh? What's it like?" he says, curious.
Piddles' eyes get large and cocker spaniel sad. "Datz meen an nasstee."
Pack> Elan says "Sure is, packie."
Thomas starts to respond to Elan when Piddles' assessment hits him. He gives a whuff of sardonic amusement and loses his place for a moment. Then he looks at his hands. "Well," he says, with a crooked smile. "You know, I did what he wanted. I really did. I'm not sure I meant to, but that's how it worked out. I was a professor at an ivy league school and a published writer. And then the fairy tales caught up with me, whether I liked it or not." He looks up, with something in his eyes that used to be bitterness but has mellowed over time. "What's it like? Miraculous. Nightmarish. Real. You know as well as I do."
Elan sighs. "I just figgered it might be different for you guys. You can do anything."
Thomas's eyes widen. "God. You should have seen me last night."
Elan nods. "I didn't really get what the heck you were talking about. What thge hell happened. You got some strange wizard in town, huh?"
Piddles intones, "Meddle not in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
Thomas shakes his head uncertainly. "I don't...I'm really not sure. What happened was that I got mugged by about eight young thugs with assorted blunt objects--" He chokes on laughter.
Elan can't help it. He gives a chuckle. "Shit, yea.."
Elan says "Hey! We might get to see Thomas....uncloaked!!"
Thomas shakes his head again. "I'll do it up as a cross stitch sampler and put it up on my wall..."
Piddles shakes his head vehemently. "Pid duzzent wanna hav Thomas fiytin' no Balroog, nohow."
Thomas nods gravely. "That's very considerate, Pid."
Thomas sighs. "Anyhow, Elan, all I meant was that if you could have seen me scrambling and dodging and handing over my wallet, and flinching and getting thumped last night, you might have revised your notions of omnipotence sharply downward. On the whole, mind you, I'm just as greatful there weren't any more witnesses."
Elan crosses his arms and resumes his heroic stance. Which he manages to carry off fairly well. "You need a bodyguard."
Thomas goes still for a moment. For some reason, the joke has hit a little off center. Then he smiles drily and says, "It might get in the way of my classes, don't you think?"
Elan seems a bit taken aback. "Sorry, dude."
Thomas shakes his head quickly, ducking his eyes, and then giving Elan a sidelong look and apologetic grin. "Sorry. Anyhow. What were we saying?"
Elan says "You're gonna go buy the Christmas Goose."
Thomas nods. "Or turkey, which I imagine is better value. And rasbery jam, assorted tarts and tartlets, mince, quince, and every kind of pie the mind can imagine. Or somethign to that effect."
Piddles giggles. "Wuz jus' kwo'in' agin."
Thomas recognizes the quote belatedly and looks amused. "I beg your pardon, I missed my cue entirely."
Piddles grins. "Izza okie."
Elan pats Thomas' shoulder. "Well, I gotta go patrol for Scrooges and such. See you guys later?"
Thomas grins back, now thoroughly at ease. "You're a very forgiving man, Pid."
Piddles grins at Elan. "Seeya layter, buddee."
Thomas holds still through the pat and then smiles at Elan. "See you."
Elan has left.
Piddles looks up at Thomas. "Izza yu okie?"
Thomas looks honestly surprised. "Sure," he says. "Why?"
Piddles shrugs. "Yu jus' lookt notsogoood las' night."
Thomas grimaces, understanding. "Well, yes. I had a number of notsopleasant shocks last night, but things seem to be all right." Then he adds, under his breath, "I think."
Piddles nods. "Izzagoodting." He abruptly changes subject. "Yu likin' Pid's nu look?"
*Thomas is looking at you.*
Thomas hesitates. Then he says sincerely, "It's very striking."
Piddles grins and strokes his protuberant beard proudly. "Izza dif'rent. Pid kin wear mirrorshayds an' look like a bodeegard, yah?"
Thomas grins. "Very intimidating."
Piddles frowns. "De onlee prob izdat Pid, he lookin' a little funnee hiz udder wayz, ya know? Gudlookin' dis way, notso de udder way."
"I'm, ah, not sure I foll--" Thomas begins, and then says, "Oh. Yes, I see. That could certainly pose a problem, I can see that."
Piddles leans forward, closing the distance so he can confidentially whisper, "Pid, he look... *groomed*."
Thomas nods, solemn-eyed, appreciating the gravity of the situation. "Like an Airedale."
Piddles nods slowly, eyes wide. "Sumbuddy might tink Pid... a *show dog*."
Thomas is having a little difficulty with his mouth, but manages a serious nod of sympathy and concern. "Although...you do have a rather unusual, ah, /blended/ appearance, don't you? That might help, I suppose."
Piddles rocks back to sit flat on the floor and nods thoughtfully. "Yah, dat might help, yah. Don' want de chicas tinkin' dat Pid go all respectabul."
Thomas's mouth twitches again, but his will remains firm. "I'm sure you can explain. And even if your appearance has changed, your manner is still entirely your own."
Piddles nods with a satisfied smile. "De chicas, dey all go fer de Pid, he alla big dog dey culd want, yah."
Thomas shifts in his chair as though he suddenly finds it designed for someone else entirely. "That's...great...Pid. I'm really...glad for you."
Piddles grows a sheepish look. "Pid sorree. Don' usullee talk dat way. Izza de setter in heet aboot two mile away."
Thomas starts to laugh weakly. "It's all right. I quite...er...understand."
Back to home.
Pack> Piddles says "Pid nevva gonna do dat too heez keedz!"
Pack> Elan says "I know you won't packie. Like I won't, mine."
Pack> Piddles says "Pid, he gonna teech heez puppeez howta reed, yah!"
Pack> BJ says "