[ Peter had really wanted to be cool. Like, James Bond levels of cool -- kicking ass and looking suave as hell in suits, who wouldn't want that? But James Bond had had gadgets and guns and villains who would monologue themselves into submission, and the reality is, Peter can be a bit of a spazz sometimes. As he's busy casting around, trying to think of something, he blurts out, slightly panicked, ]
I don't know, I don't have a weapon!
[ He's afraid to back up much further -- the place is fucking booby-trapped, and who the hell hires two dudes to just sit around all day, guarding a hidden vault? Seriously, what the hell? Did they take breaks? Lunch? Were they unionized? Did they get workers comp--?! ]
Okay. Okay-- Get into the room when you can, got it? I have a plan.
[ Well, he says that, but it's more like 5% of one. Actually, it's more of an idea than a plan. But it sounds a lot cooler to say "I have a plan" than "I kind of have an idea maybe?" ]
no subject
I don't know, I don't have a weapon!
[ He's afraid to back up much further -- the place is fucking booby-trapped, and who the hell hires two dudes to just sit around all day, guarding a hidden vault? Seriously, what the hell? Did they take breaks? Lunch? Were they unionized? Did they get workers comp--?! ]
Okay. Okay-- Get into the room when you can, got it? I have a plan.
[ Well, he says that, but it's more like 5% of one. Actually, it's more of an idea than a plan. But it sounds a lot cooler to say "I have a plan" than "I kind of have an idea maybe?" ]