Number 2 With Fries


warren_icon.gif lola_icon.gif

Scene Title Number 2 With Fries
Synopsis Lola places a large order
Date October 01, 2010

Warren's Place

One could argue that testing a miniature test version of your microwave cannon in ones apartment is a bad idea, but Warren has his reasons for everything. He's in that black suit with the tight swinging in front of his buttoned up white shirt, his open jacket still on despite being in the house. In his hand is what looks like a modified megaphone with wires and metallic tubes going up in a spiral, with a makeshift microwave stator in the front, surrounded by around four inches of glass tubing.
He looks into the camcorder set up at the end of his living room, then says, "My name is Warren Ray. This is test 24 of the microwave cannon prototype." Furniture and coffee table pushed off to the walls, there's a one foot mechanical spider walking around in the middle of the room, which he aims the device at. Pulling the trigger, anyone right outside the door will hear what sounds like a loud microwave, and that robot starts sparking and malfunctioning… and then it starts to flame. "Crap!"
He releases the trigger, then sits it on top of his entertainment center to run into the kitchen and grab the fire extinguisher, spraying it all over the robot, until it's like a robot covered in snow.

Lola doesn't like being around this man. Warren. Mortimer Jack is ore like it. He can call himself whatever crazy ass name-du-jour he wants, he'll always be Mortimer Jack to her. The man who stalked her, obsessed over her and all the rest.
She's wearing jeans and a takn top and a light jacket, and a bag is over her shoulder. There's some cash in it - hopefully enough to sway Jack to her needs.
She knocks three times on the door, her free, undbandaged arm reaching
behidn her to rest on the weapon tucked in her pants.

Warren walks over to the door, peeking through the hole, then opens it for her with a look of surprise, extinguisher still in his left white leather-gloved hand. "Lola… I didn't think I'd see you again. You look great." His demeanor might be surreal at best. He seems pleased to see her, but he's almost definitely not Jack. "My robot just kind of almost exploded because I'm doing an experiment, so if you don't mind the disarray?" He swings the door open for her, nodding her on in.

Lola just breezes in, hardly waiting on him. He always made her nervous, and no matter who he thinks he is now, he still makes her nervous. She glances around teh room, but seeing no one, she turns to face him. From the bag she pulls out a wad of cash and slaps it down to the tabl. Several thousand dollars.
"Ya ain' defective anymore, are ya?" She demands, in her own southern way. "Ah got a job fer ya, but ya can' be all powerless ta do it."

"Well I'm told I used to have split personalities and kill people before someone stuck their fingers around in my brain, but I don't think I'm—" Warren stops himself as he looks down at the money, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, you meant my ability… yeah that works."

Lola nods, throwing herself down in a nearby chair. She crosses her arms, one of which is still very well bandaged. "Well then, you an Ah's got business, sugar. An don' go makin' eyeballs at me or nothin'. Elle an me are pretty tight these days an Ah don' wanna rain on her crazy parade where yer concerned. So." She gestures to the money with her chin.
"Ah want ya ta outfit me, sugar. More tools an gadgets than any thief's ever had."

"I can barely remember you, it's choppy, but… I think we dated? According to the pit of my stomach, you're one of the best things since food processors." Warren's eyes return to their reflective silvery state, and he crouches down to the robot. He removes his left glove, turning the robot over with his bronze mechanical hand so he can poke away at the spider. "I don't remember Elle at all, I only just met her the other day, but I decided to see if I like her. And if you want me to outfit you, I need you to tell me what it is you want to be able to do."

Lola shakes her head. "Ya thought we dated," she clarifies. "We ain' never did. Ya thought we did but…well shit, yer crazier'n me an Elle's sick ol lovechild, if we had one an she had a penis with which ta be makin' one." She looks over the money, pausing to light a cigarette. She exhales, happily.
"Over-ridin' electronic locks an alarms, mostly's what Ah need. Maybe some stuff ta help me get up an down a tight places an the like."

"My current project is an EMP, so you chose a good time to ask for that." Warren lifts up the robot and carries it into his bedroom, tossing it somewhere before walking back out and heading over to that makeshift megaphone. "I'm still testing it, but when I'm done I can make a miniature version. And if I was crazy, which I don't remember, I'm not crazy anymore. I can't imagine ever doing any of the things people say I did, and I definitely can't imagine having people in my head. Shame we didn't date though, you do have a certain charm."

"Perfect. Make me one a them an Ah'll pay ya for it," Lola says, getting up to follow him in. She looks over everything, an eyebrow raised. She shakes her head and decides to let it pass. "Well you an me wouldn' never have worked out, sugar. Ah'm crazy, but Ah ain' yer kinda crazy. Ah'm just the…well Ah'm not sure what kinda crazy Ah am. Ah'm just…special I guess. Ya? Ya were somethin' else. Sociopathic an delisional and all the rest a that fancy doctor talk. Also, kin ya make me somethin' ta get up an down buidlin's or elevator shafts or the like?"

"I think I could do that, but I need to look at an elevator shaft first. I could probably make you a special set of bump keys too. I'll ask around and come up with a full list of things you could use." Warren places a hand over his chest, thinking. "I feel almost guilty. Elle was supposedly my girlfriend for so long, but all my feelings seem to be aimed at you, and I can barely remember you. Whoever 'fixed' me must have had a hell of a time smashing three people together."

Lola rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "Yeah well, ya an Ellie Ah'm sure'll be just fine once ya'll sit down an chat it out. Or whatever it is couples do." She tries to push him off the topic of her.
"Anyway, how much would that run me? Ah kin get it, a coruse will all a this stuff it'll make it easier ta make money. An some weapons wouldn' go wrong neither."

Warren looks to that stack of money, then nods to it. "I think the few thousand dollars on the table should cover the building expenses and payment." He sits the microwave gun back on to the entertainment center, crossing his arms to watch and size her up a bit. "I get the feeling this isn't the last time I'll have surreal memories. But is there anything else you want before you leave? I get the distinct feeling that you don't want to be here."

Lola laughs, snuffing out her cigarette on the nearest flat surface. "Sugar, Ah ain' never wanna be anywhere. If ya wanna remember me, ya'd best be rememberin' that. Particularly since that damn snowstorm locked me in yer underground lair fer months at a time without no sembelance a sky." She shivers at the memory, shaking her head.
"And no, yer memories are gonna be just as fucked up as ya are. Which, by the way, was pretty fucked up. But ya oughta remember that if ya fuck up with Elle, Ah'll put a bullet in ya afore ya even smell me."

"I have an underground lair?" That seems to be news to Warren, who starts walking into his kitchen. "Maybe it's best if I just put that all behind me. And I won't hurt Elle, she's a nice girl."

Lola shakes her head. "Well Ah ain' a nice girl, sugar. In fact, Ah'm a pretty fuckin' shitty girl. Which is why if ya go feckin' with that nice girl, ye'll have ta deal with this shitty girl. Do ya…do ya understand?" lola watches him, her eyes sharp. "Do ya understnad what Ah'm tellin' ya sugar?"

"You don't need to make threats, especially not at the guy with the microwave gun." Warren laughs lightly from the kitchen, walking back into the living room with a glass of milk. "I don't know what you or Cardinal think I used to be, or what kind of crap I took, but you can leave now. Put your number on the table and I'll call you when I make progress with your order"

Lola has no problem complying, writing down the information. "Pleasure doin' business with ya, sugar," Lola promises. Bag over her shoulde,r she makes her way to the door without a second glance back. No, Mortimer Jack scared her enough times in the past for her to be too welcoming of this new man so easly.

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