fandomhigh | Potpourri - Danger Shop

Buster had once again ~~handwavily~~ told his students to go to the Danger Shop today. He looked extremely amused with himself. He was about to inflict horrible mental torture on these kids and they had no idea. If Buster was the type to laugh evilly he would totally laugh evilly.

"Hahaha-oh jeez" Buster sneezed a few times into his sleeve before continuing to speak. "Heeeeey students. So here we are. The last day of class. It's sort of sad in a scholarly sort of way."

"Today we'll be continuing on our 'life sucks' theme. Are some of you in the Dealing With Stupid People class?" he paused for a moment to see if anyone raised their hands. "Today's activity sort of deals with the same thing."

He tapped his hook against his desk nervously. "People...hmm, how to say this. People are weirdos. Weird weirdos who say and do weirdo things. They most likely think you're the weirdo for thinking that they are a weirdo but in reality you're not the weirdo, they are! I'm completely normal, mother!"

Buster frowned. "You can't avoid weirdos. You run into them at work, in bars, in public restrooms. They're your bosses, your friends and your family. Weirdos are everywhere. But you learn how to deal with them and eventually you like said weirdos. Or if they're your family members you learn how to not stab them all with your hook."

"So today you are going to be talking to some holographic replicas of people I know in real life." said Buster. "Not all of them are weirdos...oh who am I kidding, you all met GOB. Just enter through one of the doors and you'll be in a scenario with one of my family members or friends of the family. Survive a conversation with them without crying or being attacked then you win. At life."

"Alright, saddle up!"

[Up early so I actually have time to play. ~~Wait for~~ OCD is up! Note: Some of the Bluths aren't as nice and caring as Buster and GOB are ~~hahaha!~~. So keep in mind I love you all OOCly]

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"A piano could stand on those legs." said the woman. "Have a seat. Try not to break it."

Annette blinked and looked down at her legs. They were short, yes...but...

She walked forward and sat down very carefully, almost afraid that she would break the chair, just because the woman warned her against it.

"I'm Annette Hargrove." She said softly.

"Lucille Bluth. I'm Buster's mother." said the woman. A waiter appeared out of nowhere. "Vodka, rocks and whatever the blonde wants."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bluth. And you have a wonderful son, I really enjoy Buster's classes." Annette looked up at the waiter then back at Mrs. Bluth. "Uh, I'll have the same."

Lucille scoffed. "Buster's a failure. He's almost more of a disappointment than my oldest."

"That's...not very kind so say about a criple, Mrs. Bluth." Annette ventured slowly because she really didn't want to get involved in family situations that just didn't concern her at all.

Buster was her teacher though so she felt the need to defend him.

"If he had listened to his mother then he wouldn't have gotten his hand bitten off." said Lucille. The waiter came back with their drinks. Lucille put the vodka in front of Annette. Since this was a classroom Annette's glass was filled with water.

She found out it was water and was actually quite thankful for it, she drank nearly all of it. "It was probably mad seal disease. Something that I am sure will never happen again."

"Mad seal disease? My idiot son got his hand bit off because my other idiot son fed cats to a seal in a bowtie!" said Lucille, gesturing her point with a wave of her hand. Unfortunately this was the hand that was holding her drink so Annette might get splashed.

She got splashed but she was just too stunned to do anything about it. Clearly this woman was a little drunk. Maybe a lot drunk. "Um. So how is Mr. Bluth? I mean the head of the family Mr. Bluth and not your sons. He must really be proud of you all, hmm?" Clearly Annette had no idea what she was talking about. But getting a wife to talk about her husband had to be a good thing, right? She wasn't including her parents in that thought process. Not at all.

"Mr. Bluth is currently on the run from the law." said Lucille. "I could give a damn what he's proud of."

"Ooh-kay, well then, what shall we drink to?" Man, this Bluth family seemed like such a mess. Poor Buster. No wonder he's like he is.

"Running from the law? Why?" What? She was curious okay?

"Here's to hoping that you discover the slimming qualities of black clothing." said Lucille, finishing up her vodka and pointing at the waiter for another one.

"George Sr. was building homes in Iraq." said Lucille. "He was in cahoots with Saddam."

Annette ducked her head and pouted. She was fat? Ohmigod. Black clothing? She liked black clothing only to a certain degree. Like for funerals and stuff. Or evening gowns, nighties...

Mrs. Bluth caught her attention again and Annette frowned, "Evil. Mr. Bluth is evil. I hope he gets caught and sent to prison."

"My husband is not evil! He was just an idiot. If we had done things my way we wouldn't have gotten caught. His brain must have fried from screwing his cross-eyed secretary all the time." she said. "And I don't think Buster would appreciate you calling his father evil."

That was a lie twice over. Buster didn't really care for George Sr. and he wasn't even his real father anyways.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Bluth!" Annette stammered quickly. "I would never talk to Buster about his family. It's personal. Probably." Then cause she was flustered and just didn't know what to add to that, said, "I hope the secretary got what she deserved!"

"Kitty's a whore." said Lucille bluntly. She tilted her head and looked at Annette closely. "You remind me of her."

Annette gasped, "I am not a whore!" She would not cry. She would not cry. First a slut, now a whore? Omigod! "Only girls with the name Kitty are whores. It fits."

"Oh, sweetie. Nobody thinks they're a whore. You just have to believe what other people say about you." said Lucille. This is something she had been saying to her own daughter for years. "Of course I don't know you well enough to judge..."

"I'm not a whore," she repeated. "I have a boyfriend. Only one. To be a whore I would have to sleep around or something. Buster must take after his father. Or something. You should wear black too." There! Take that! HAH!

Lucille smirked. "Looks like someone is getting a little defensive."

"Would you like me to hand you a mirror?" Annette started to dig around in her pocket book for a compact. This woman was rattling her senses dammit!

Potpourri - Danger Shop - Tuesday

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