hey there passengers, it's me, ya commissary

[dealwiththe]

Passengers: Everyone (get in here)
Location: Ye Olde Commissary
Date: March 1-7
Summary: Put tickets in, get knives, foam wives, and novelty t-shirts out (sorry I couldn't think of another rhyme)
Warnings: Will add as needed.


[ Ooooooooooooooh.... ]

Comments

[rank1]

Friends. Travis feels momentarily blindsided. Friends? Okay, sure. They're friends. Cool.

"She isn't gonna convince anyone," he says, flatly. Anyone but him, anyway. She's his foam replica of his wife, and that invokes feelings in him not unlike how people get attached to worn-out t-shirts and bad habits and ugly babies. It's different when it's yours. "And she's not an 'it.'"

[saklas]

"I'm talking about a hypothetical uh... second foam person."

Another ginger, apologetic pat on the shoulder. There there, 𝓯𝓸𝓪𝓶 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮. Sorry.

"A duplicate of someone we need to not have anyone realize is missing for a couple of minutes. Don't know who yet, but it's the kind of card that's good to have available to play."

[rank1]

Appeased and overtaken by confusion, Travis asks:

"What, like you tuck the foam into their bed or in a place where you can only see a sliver of them and hope no one notices they're foam?"

[saklas]

"Kind of, yeah. If it was a duplicate of you or something, and you could plausibly be asleep, people might not notice you were actually gone for a couple of hours. If it was someone with their own room, it'd work even better..."

[rank1]

"Alright," Travis says. Sure, that makes sense. "They only last a month apparently, and we can only get one in the first week if the pattern holds... so we gotta know who to get in advance."