IC INBOX

[charlastan]

"Hi! You've reached Stan Pines' magic phone box thing or whatever. Leave me a message and maybe if I care enough about what you've got to say I'll actually get back to you. I probably don't, but hey! Test your luck! (Followed by obnoxious laughter until the BEEP)"

Text / Audio / Video / Etc

CLOSED FOR BUSINESS

Comments

[voice]

[charlastan]

So we'll-- I dunno, we'll lock him out or somethin'. We'll figure something out. He's a fucking triangle, how hard can it be?

[Very hard, probably. But Stan's looking for bright sides and silver linings here, even though there really aren't many. The truth is, he doesn't know what the hell to do. He's not a scientist and his usual approach to weird things is to avoid them as much as possible.

He sighs, and then dryly adds:]

Hey, buddy. Rick. I got this fucking portal design but it was kinda invented by a demon. [Then, after a beat of hesitation and with a little less sarcasm.] ...You wanna figure out how to Punch Cthulhu In The Face without ripping the multiverse to shreds?

[Even as pissed off as Rick is, they still kind of need him.]

[voice]

[wriggedywrecked]

Don't be stupid, Pines. Y-You're not as fucking stupid as you pretend you are.

[That's probably some kind of weird roundabout compliment in some way. The thing is, when you're as smart as Rick, everyone else is a fucking idiot to some degree. So you just sort of learn to identify the people who are slightly less idiotic than others. And Stan is one of those. He just has some kind of dumb stupid complex about his own smarts. And whatever, it's gotta be kind of shitty having Ford for a twin.]

Yeah, yo-you realize late isn't always better than never, right? But wh-whatever. I'm already balls deep in this fucking mess. Might as well try to punch Cthulhu again. Maybe I'll die in a cooler way than, than having to blow myself and some mushrooms up this time.

[voice]

[charlastan]

[That...actually throws him a little. He's not about to sit there and argue that he is stupid, because that's pathetic, even for him, but as far as he's concerned? He's not pretending. He's always been a dumber sweatier version of Ford and everyone knew it - even their parents knew it. He knows all about acts and pretending to be things he's not, so to be accused of pretending to be dumb is such a weird concept for him. It feels almost like...a compliment? Kind of? He doesn't know what to do with it though, and he's glad it's a phone call and not a video thing so Rick doesn't have to look at his dumbfounded face.]

Uh. ...Thanks? But hey, there you go! That's the spirit!

[Stan's just going to willingly ignore the fact that late isn't always better than never, because it's at least a little better this time.]

Pfft. At least you didn't get absorbed into a tree or whatever the hell stupid thing happened to me. Besides, we're not gonna die - and even if we do, we'll just come back good as new.

[Probably. Maybe he shouldn't be so flippant about that but hey, Rick was flippant about death first. He started it.]

[voice]

[wriggedywrecked]

[That pause is pretty telling, but Rick doesn't really care. He's too busy being pissed and hungover. There's the sound of a cap unscrewing and the telltale sound of someone chugging booze. He burps.]

Whatever.

Yeah. R-Real fucking embarrassing either way. And y-yeah sure it was so much fucking fun the first time let's, uh, let's make that a repeat experience. Sweet.

[voice]

[charlastan]

[Stan sighs, and even if it's audio it's pretty obvious that he's rolling his eyes on the other end.]

Quit gettin' your panties in a twist, Sanchez - no one's dying and everything's gonna work out. You'll see.

[voice]

[wriggedywrecked]

Sure. Whatever.