[Completely fuckin' oblivious. Pickles isn't used to feeling quite so bad about offing a dude -- it became sorta second nature his first go around on the ship to just whack the troublemakers until they left him and his alone. None of the passengers he remembers were as soft and vulnerable and honest as this kid's being to him right now. Those sortsa guys got hardened or got got.
So. Time to get got, Jeff.
Pickles listens to him babble on and on as he gets up and meanders over to the guitar. He picks it up, feeling the familiar weight in his hands. It's a Gibson -- that's pretty good. Really good. He hopes whoever he's about to unleash can fuckin' play it.]
Nothin' but time, [he agrees, wandering behind Jeff across the stage. His hand placement moves from proper form, turning the guitar over until it's less a musical instrument and more of a blunt force instrument.]
...But we're a lil' late for crazy, [as he lifts the guitar overhead, both hands tight around the neck, and then he swings downward with all his might.
no subject
So. Time to get got, Jeff.
Pickles listens to him babble on and on as he gets up and meanders over to the guitar. He picks it up, feeling the familiar weight in his hands. It's a Gibson -- that's pretty good. Really good. He hopes whoever he's about to unleash can fuckin' play it.]
Nothin' but time, [he agrees, wandering behind Jeff across the stage. His hand placement moves from proper form, turning the guitar over until it's less a musical instrument and more of a blunt force instrument.]
...But we're a lil' late for crazy, [as he lifts the guitar overhead, both hands tight around the neck, and then he swings downward with all his might.
KABONK.]