Crowbar
@numberSeven
Unfortunately employed. Third in command. Maroon mangler, headache handler, gang guy.
Clicking still plagues my office. Such is my unhurried, can't-be-assed-to-mince-about-it fate. Will resume my search after a nice walk. Fresh air, or as fresh as it gets on this dustheap.
Who was the last person on basement lock-checking duty? #manorupdates #highpriority
CANS KNOW CANS ANSWER. IF WANT TO ASK CANS. :)))) CANS WOULD HIT. HARD. WITH BIG KNUCKLES. TIGHT FORM FISTS. WILL NOT SEE FOR VERY LONG TIME EVER AGAIN.
YOU JUST WANT TO SEE DISGUSTING WENCH ON WENCH ACTION WHEN I GO DOWN THERE. DON’T YOU.
NO ONE IS SEEING DICK FuCKALL ON CuNT FuCKNOTHING. THE ONLY ACTION. BEING PERFORMED. BY ANY NONZERO NuMBER OF WENCHES. IS YOu. YOu ARE THE ONE. BEING ASKED. TO INSPECT THE STuPID FuCKING BASEMENT. SO DO IT. LIP IS FINE. SASS IS ACCEPTABLE. BACKBITING IS EXPECTED. NONCOMPLIANCE IS NOT.
NO CHANGE. AS PER USUAL. YOUR FEARSOMENESS. AND HOW WOULD YOU FEEL. ABOUT A LITTLE WENCH ON WENCH. FOR OLD TIME’S SAKE. #MISSHERSOBAD #ARACHANWHENAREYOU #SHEWOULDYURIBAITWITHMEINFRONTOFYOULIKENOOTHER #HHHH
HOW I WOuLD FEEL IS ENTIRELY IRRELEVANT. HOW SHE FEELS. EQuALLY SO. RANKMAID WILL FuRNISH HER TITLE AND ITS PuNGENCY FOR MY PuRPOSES WHEN MY JAW SLACKS TO ACCOMODATE THE SLITHERING TONGuE OF TEETH SLICKING SALACIOuSNESS. ACCOMPANYING MY SICK AND TWISTED DESIRES. TO SEE YOu TWO ON TOP OF ONE ANOTHER. IN ACCORDANCE WITH MY OWN GRAND DESIGN. YOuR FINGERS WILL ENSNARE LIKE BARS OF A CAGE. INTERSECTING WITH THOSE OF ANOTHER CAGE. ENSuRING AFFIRMATIONS AND LITTLE CHASTE TOuCHES CAN TEASE uP AND DOWN THE ARMS. YOu CAN EXCHANGE GLANCES. BASHFuL LINES OF INQuIRY ABOuT HOW AND WHY YOu BOTH BECAME THE WOMEN YOu ARE. BuT THOSE LINES BLuR AS YOu COME TO LOVE THE SWEET TENDER WARMTH OF LEARNED HANDS. OF ARTFuLLY CRAFTED HANDS. OF HAuNTINGLY HARROWING INTERSECTION OF MEAT AND MASS. OF TOuCH AND FEELING. OF THE MOPING SOFTNESS OF HER FEEBLE. “uWAH. BuT I DO NOT WANNA!” PROTESTS. AS YOu uNTANGLE EVERY KNOT. AND uNWASHED LITTLE TANGLE. IN EVERY HAIR ATOP MY ONEECHAN’S SMOOCHABLE BITCH HEAD.
OHHMFFUCKING. GOD. I MISS HER SO MUCH. MY BULBS ARE SO CLOSE TO SPILLING THEIR SLICK. ALL OVER MY PATHETIC WHORE FACE. FROM BEING TURNED ON. AND NO OTHER EMOTION. PLEASE EXCUSE ME. I NEED TO ATTEND TO AN URGENT PERSONAL MATTER.
I DID!!!! IT WAS NOTHING THREE HOURS AGO. AND IT WAS NOTHING JUST NOW. SHOULD I LOCK MYSELF IN THERE. ON ROUND THE CLOCK BITCH PATROL.
1/3 file cabinets. Took longer than expected. Can't say it wasn't appreciated, and won't say it wasn't a slog. May as well not say a damn thing, actually. 4/5 corners. Wallpaper's peeling in the forth corner. 1/3 tables. Moved my radio. Should be in a better position for the jazz hour. #clickhunt
OKAY. HOW MUCH OF THESE. HOW MANY MUCH OF THESE. WOULD BE BETTER. IF CANS PUNCHED HOLES INTO ALL OF THEM? ✊
Delicate touch needed here, Fifteen. The Mime's left a present in my office, Lord knows where, and expects me to turn monkey rings looking for it.
CANS CAN PUNCH SO SOFT. THINGS WITH HOLE IN IT WILL NOT EVEN KNOW HOLE IS THERE. UNTIL SECONDS PASS. AND HANDS PASS THROUGH IT. LIKE. DAMN. HOLE THERE NOW.
You got a way with words, big man. ...Tell you what. Could use two big hands moving some furniture around. But you've got to be Tinkerbell about it, understand? All grace, all flutter.
CANS. WILL TINKER. TO EVERY BELL. GRACEST FLUTTER EVER FLUTTED. LIKE PRETTY LITTLE BUG. WILL NOT BE EVEN ONE FURNITURE. THAT DOES NOT GET MOVED SOMEWHERE.
Good man, stripe. My office. Third floor, north wing, with the crooked door.
Not a problem. Suits me fine, and it's easier to find in the dark when damn-near-dead tired. Either way, you'll know the way in.
:o) You're being very thorough. :o) It is a good trait.
2/5 corners. Kittybitch droppings located, which explains the smell. Another detailing for the Chalkbox. Poor sod's got every bit of work cut out for him. 1/3 chairs. Expected something big, considering the massive tear. Just a handful of not-inflated balloons. I don't do balloons. Remanded to wastebin. #clickhunt
:o) Inflate the balloons.
Agreein' on a game of "find" don't translate to a game of "puff air into balloons" for me. Eurgh. Obscene. #nsfw
About time. #dashwatching
Overhead light checked. Bulb needed changing. Flickering, sure, but the :o) occupying the glass was a factor. 3/4 bookshelves. Reorganized my Sensible Chuckle collection. Found three coupons for the cinema in issue 80085. Unsurprising. #clickhunt
:o) Ah, you found my face! :o) That's important for a mime, you know. :o) I should much like it back at earliest convenience. :o) Keep looking for my toy, though...
Noted. Return :o) besmirched lightbulb to whatever room you're haunting this week.
:'o) I do have a respite block you know :'o) You just never visit :'o) Shunned...by dearest Uncle Crowbar
Could have fooled me. Sometimes I wonder if you and Megido are playing musical blocks.
;o) Well, we often appear in one another's respite blocks, that's for certain
One inexplicable mandatory time-nonsense hassle later. Office is still haunted. The search continues. "Party books" returned to shelf. #clickhunt
:o) Hee hee.... :o) Hoo hoo.... :o) Haa haa.... :o) Come now, Uncle Crowbar. You're surely a better detective than those carapacians, aren't you? Show them up. :o) Do our shining syndicate proud.
Never been the type to fumble. But you do tempt me, sometimes, to let my standards fall just the once. Scandalous.
1/2 desks. 2/4 bookshelves. 2/2 lamps. Confetti populating at least three books on thorough shakedown. Somehow not shocked at all. Note to self. Inform the Chalkbox about that later. #clickhunt
:o) Do you like my partybooks? #MyBooks
2/2 wastebins. Nothing of note behind or underneath. Did find an old friend inside. A4, folded twice, purple and maroon crayon on matte cream. Could have it framed. #clickhunt
:o) Waaaarmer...Warmer.. :o) Oh, nope. Colder. Colder. :o/ Frigid motherfucking tundra
Three file cabinets. Two desks. Windowsill and box. Wastebins, one per desk. Four bookshelves. Two lamps. One overhead light. Five corners. Three chairs. Three tables. And... One long search. Should have made coffee. #clickhunt
:o) Tick... :o) Tock... :o) Tick... :o) Tock...
Tadpoles. What can you do? Metronomes and leapfrog games. Some things never change. #clickhunt
The hell is that clicking. Metronome?
Maybe it's the bomb finally arriving. Or not.
:o) Oh, I do so love a good metronome!
Different clicking. Not anglin' to explain the difference. Need that edge whenever Deuce ships a "present" manor-side.
Really, really appreciate it. More than words can express. Maybe not more than a crowbar could. Where is it?
:o) Why, Mr. Crowbar...Is that not part of the fun? To listen to the ticking and find your focus drawn to it but not have full knowledge of where it is? :o) It's a fun little game we play, isn't it, you and I? :o) You've watched me grow up in this manor. Surely you know all of my best hiding spots by now...
I'd ask who taught you to be a nuisance but. There's a half-dozen contenders. Myself included. Fine. A game of "find" and then. I work.
:o) Hee hee :o) Hoo hoo :o) Haa haa :o) Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find it soon enough. :o) I'll be watching your progress intently.
Suppose @midnightcityNumbers is off the air, then. Shame. Good voice for late work.
On a stage... #suggestive
... Never seen ballet. #suggestive
i apologize if i'm being crass! i don't mean to mark, mister crowbar. i think my family had a few people who did ballet! :D
It's. Well. The topic can be sensitive. But I am a gentleman. Won't pry too hard into your family's #nsfw proclivities.
of course! of course. i'm open to talking about certain things, not like i'm naming names. you must remember, for humans it's not considered salacious! much like how pranks aren't.
dog you can't one minute turn up your nose when i vaguely imply that you get some an then next minute go jonesin for some orchestral game a playin footsies
I am not. You. This is not my fault, or my concern. It was a passin' curiosity. Not even a fancy.
Nothing but, miss. Your ball-side manner is workable. I've seen worse.
well i'd be happy to answer any questions you may still have in a dm. not to imply you'd consider anything uncouth of course.
Right. I'll... hang onto your handle. If it ever piques my interest again.
Concerns me to see the Maid this... delighted by my damn plight. #reactspam #indiainkmishap
THERE SHOULD BE A WORD. FOR THE PLEASURE TO BE GAINED. FROM WATCHING ANOTHER SUFFER. OR NOT SUFFER. #SUGGESTIVE.
Sadism, Maid. You're not helping matters by putting thoughts in my head. #suggestive
NOT IF I’M WATCHING YOU HAVE A GOOD TIME. THEN IT’S #VOYEURISM.
Rare for me to disbelieve myself, but. How washable is "washable" here?
... When I say something worth a chuckle, sure. Life of the damn party. Suppose I should say thanks.
A SMALL MERCY. IT IS DISCERNIBLY NOT BLOOD. BuT THAT uNFORTuNATELY MAKES IT CONSIDERABLY LESS LICKABLE. AND THuS. MY TALENTS WOuLD BE WASTED. SQuANDERED ON COSTING YOu AN OPPORTuNITY TO PROVE YOuRSELF ONCE MORE WORTHY OF THAT CROWBAR.
Always a shame when I can't perform for you, sir. Heist tonight should end a little bloody, if it appeals.
HHHWHOSMEAREDALL OVERYOU. WAS IT SNOWMAN. #HHHH #RANKINGOUT.
Ahem. I mean. No. Miss Eight and I didn't spend the night together, out of courtesy to her time. I— fell asleep.
A PITY. SHE’S PROBABLY A GOOD DANCER. #TANGO #WALTZ #BALLET #SUGGESTIVE #GETONTHAT #YOUTWOAREMYOTP.
Maid. Who she dances with and how is not my concern.
Fell asleep in the office. Pitying the four ruined pages leaving happy smudges on my jaw. Hope this washes off.
Nothing on the radio. Shame. Think the Doc would call it a "dreary evening" but I'm not a flowery type. Accounting in silence; my own personal hell.
Not every boss can be a winner.
1537. [C] numberSeven It features your favorite number as well as an algorithm to reach it. -1+5+3=7. I had you in mind.
Certainly, sir. Chitt was made with respect to your efforts. Not every boss... asterisk.