Day 49: Late Afternoon - Lil' Tyke Toys

[vstheworld]

Scott had barely gotten a few feet out the door of Tasty Burger when the nurses started blaring their megaphones and shuffling people back indoors. He was definitely getting just a little tired of this, not least due to the dazed and confused mood he had been in since breakfast. Would he get any chance to just walk down a street in a straight line again today? What if he liked the rain, huh? Did the nurses think about that? ...Okay, he didn't like the rain, but that was beside the point. The point was that seeing more of the town was turning into pretty much a non-option.

He was caught by a nurse in front of the door to a local toy shop, and before he could get out so much as a protesting yelp, he was hurried inside with a strong, encouraging shove.  Great, thought Scott, reluctantly peeling off his coat again as he wandered down one of the back aisles and resigned himself to staying. What am I gonna do in here? It's a toy store in Outer Bumblesticks. What are they going to have to keep my mind off things? Dolls? Tin soldiers? Teddy bears? This is gonna su— "HEY is that Godzilla?"

Sure enough, it was. Or rather, it was a large Godzilla action figure sitting on a shelf just ahead of him. The toy was wired into the box good and tight, but the front was open to allow kids to test out the toy's arms and sound before buying. Drawn inexorably to the blinding red "TRY ME!" written on it, Scott pulled the box down and pressed the button on the back of Godzilla's head. 

"AAEEEEEAAAAARRRR."

The roar was small and tinny, but it made Scott grin a little.

"Heheh."

"AAEEEEEAAAAARRRR."

"Heheheheh."

"AAEEEEEAAAAARRRR."

"Hee. Oh Godzilla, you wouldn't leave me, would you?"

"AAEEEEEAAAAARRRR."

[For Mothra Peter Parker. Stein can come too.]

Comments

J.D. needs to be a doctor here. I don't care how many RPers I have to troll, I will find one.

[tightsofmight]

Smooth move, Travolta.

"Nothing! It's just fine," he assured, putting on his best poker face to combat the urge to twitch as Stein cranked the screw. If they had been sitting at a table, Scott's toes would have been crushed under the reprimanding force of Peter's heel. Sadly, their legs were in full view and Scott was being too much of a dumbass for even a swift kick to the shins to fix. You did not tell crazy people about their crazy. You simply did not talk about it. Like Fight Club.

That first time in Stein's office was totally different. Peter could punch through steel. Scott giggled at plastic Godzillas in toy stores. There was a severe disparity in what the two of them could get away with.

He subtly stepped a small ways in front of the older boy, a silent sign to zip it if there ever was one. "Is there anything we can help you with?"

Dammit, forgot about Dr. Acula. Why did I miss the most obvious joke? DX

[vstheworld]

Scott was about to tell Stein that probably at least one or two laws each of physics and biology were wrong with the screw, but Peter moving in front of him did indeed send him the message to zip it. He looked down at the floor, trying to let his brain catch up with what his eyes had seen. He also listened in slight awe to the teen hero trying to talk to his improbably-named doctor. It was a wonder that anyone could talk to this "Stein" as though he were a normal person; somehow, though, Peter was doing it. Clearly, whatever had gone down during therapy with this guy, Peter did not want to risk it happening again. Scott could only imagine what might have happened.

"Er, uh, yeah, it's fine. I was just curious," he finally managed after looking back up, trying to keep his gaze below Stein's face. He knew that would probably open him to some variety of "my eyes are up here" joke, but he figured it was worth the risk to keep from himself bugging out again.

[drheadscrew.livejournal.com]

"It seems to be a common thing to be curious about," said Stein with a lopsided grin. "Tyler was even curious as to whether it would grant wishes. Of course, there's no way such an un-scientific tool could exist." Outside the realm of demon tools, anyway. "To answer your question, it helps me think." He gave it a couple more cranks, as if to prove his point.

Ah, amusing. Stein watched Peter's actions like a scientist observing insects - because that more or less exactly what he was. Stepping in between them, both shield and barrier, trying to keep him from interacting with Scott or the other boy from interacting with Stein. With himself in the way. That kind of heroic impulse was familiar to Stein - in others, anyway. No, not himself of course.

"Oh, nothing much. Just thought it might be nice to see you were doing, Tyler," he said. "And get to meet your friend as well! So how's the trip treating you two? Shame about the weather, huh?"

Scott's aversion was amusing as well, but there wasn't much point in calling him out on it, since he already knew what the problem was. He'd let Tyler have this little victory for now and concentrate his questions on him for the moment.

[tightsofmight]

Wonderful. Now Scott was going to think he was a jerk for silently getting on his case over the screw. The best he could do now was shrug uncomfortably and provide himself with a lousy defense. "Well if you're going to stick things through your head they had better be pretty special."

He needed to end this conversation. Pronto. His hackles were raised and he did not trust Stein even in a public venue with a shmuck in a nametag peeking into their aisle every five minutes to make sure the crazies weren't stealing anything. (Hello, who was the bigger freak here? The two well-behaved boys or the man patched together by medieval science? Everyone in Doyleton was stupid.) The man had pinged his spider-sense before. If he was dangerous enough to do that when the thing was this broken, that meant he was a genuine threat. Maybe not now, but it was getting closer to nightfall. Peter didn't want to deal with both zombies and psychopants surgeons. That just wasn't fair.

"It's been all right," Peter said shortly. His voice was clipped and polite, as if this were an accidental meeting with his school principal rather than a ten point creeper. "Wet, but I think we missed most of it."