Peter Parker (
madeupnames) wrote in
riverview2018-08-12 03:25 am
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Video | HAPPY... LATE... BIRTHDAY??? | @p.parker
[The feed is mostly full of textbooks, the spines all turned enough that they're legible; it's math, chemistry, social studies, all the fun things nobody misses from high school. And on the right side of the screen is Peter, sitting with his cheek on his palm and his elbow pressed beside a blank page of paper. He looks kind of sleepy, like he'd just nod off if he didn't have the feed to focus on.]
So I've got this essay I need to write by tomorrow, and I'm having a hard time getting — personal, and all that. The prompt's asking about what inspires you, specifically. [He looks to read it word-for-word:] 'What motivates you in your day to day life?' And I mean, I've got a lot of motivations, but trying to put it to paper is giving me a wicked case of the fogbrain.
[He tucks his pen under his nose, holding it with his upper lip for a moment before letting it fall pitifully to the table. He sighs.]
What motivates you guys? Into doing what you do? What makes you put your shoes on in the morning, huh?
And don't just say 'to avoid stepping on pointy stuff barefoot'. That's a cheap and obvious answer—
[Peter startles violently as birthday music blares behind him, so much so that his pencil goes flying through the air and RIP's somewhere off-screen. Pam the pancake making robot seems to be flying onto the scene in the background with freshly made pancakes and festive lights blinking all over her.

A little lighter arm pops out, preparing to light a lone candle on the stack of flapjacks.
Peter mutters, mortified:]
...I thought I disabled Birthday Mode for repairs...
[He looks back at the robot with his hand pressed to his temple, and clears his throat.]

... Pam, uh. My - my birthday was two days ago. Two days. It's August 10th. And, uh, it's... it's the 12th now.
[Peter watches as the AI seems to try to process this, tapping his finger on the table and thinning his lips at the awkward silence. Pam's little plate-holding robo-arms lower slightly, the generic birthday MIDI file slowing to a depressive stop as the party-themed lights and lighter are shut off together. A pause of nothing. Then she turns and dejectedly wheels away into the community kitchen with her plate of pancakes.]
Wait, Pam — Aw, c’mon, I can still eat them! Hey—
[Peter drops his arms.

... Note to self, fix her internal clock...]
So I've got this essay I need to write by tomorrow, and I'm having a hard time getting — personal, and all that. The prompt's asking about what inspires you, specifically. [He looks to read it word-for-word:] 'What motivates you in your day to day life?' And I mean, I've got a lot of motivations, but trying to put it to paper is giving me a wicked case of the fogbrain.
[He tucks his pen under his nose, holding it with his upper lip for a moment before letting it fall pitifully to the table. He sighs.]
What motivates you guys? Into doing what you do? What makes you put your shoes on in the morning, huh?
And don't just say 'to avoid stepping on pointy stuff barefoot'. That's a cheap and obvious answer—
[Peter startles violently as birthday music blares behind him, so much so that his pencil goes flying through the air and RIP's somewhere off-screen. Pam the pancake making robot seems to be flying onto the scene in the background with freshly made pancakes and festive lights blinking all over her.

A little lighter arm pops out, preparing to light a lone candle on the stack of flapjacks.
Peter mutters, mortified:]
...I thought I disabled Birthday Mode for repairs...
[He looks back at the robot with his hand pressed to his temple, and clears his throat.]
... Pam, uh. My - my birthday was two days ago. Two days. It's August 10th. And, uh, it's... it's the 12th now.
[Peter watches as the AI seems to try to process this, tapping his finger on the table and thinning his lips at the awkward silence. Pam's little plate-holding robo-arms lower slightly, the generic birthday MIDI file slowing to a depressive stop as the party-themed lights and lighter are shut off together. A pause of nothing. Then she turns and dejectedly wheels away into the community kitchen with her plate of pancakes.]
Wait, Pam — Aw, c’mon, I can still eat them! Hey—
[Peter drops his arms.

... Note to self, fix her internal clock...]
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.... Nooo, that would be a good way to end up with a mad teacher and an F.
[In reality, it's just hard to explain what inspires him. It's so — personal. And, you know, when you think of what you've lost, it leads to thinking about what you will lose when you get back home, and... yeah, it's icky. Joking about it is easier.]
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And that teacher would probably never like you again.
[And it is personal, and awkward. Not something you really want to share with people, right?]
You might be a hero to teenagers everywhere though...
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I'm too much of a teacher's pet to do it. My English teacher's cool.
If I were a hero, I don't think I'd choose to be Essay-Man, anyway.
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If you were a hero though, who would you be?
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Who, me?
[—he says. Stupidly.]
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[You know, considering she's heart broken at the moment.]
What, like you've never thought about it?
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I mean, sure. What kid hasn't? I guess, uuuh — I always wanted to fly? And be strong enough to carry airplanes through the sky. Things like that. I used to pretend I was a Super-powered Detective when I was really little. Probably because of Captain America comics my dad used to let me read.
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[He huffs out a laugh.]
I think I just wanted to be Cap when I was a kid. Or you know, the best Pokemon trainer ever. Both would have been awesome.
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Oh, no doubt, being a Pokemon trainer was super important.
... And I admit, I might've had some cardboard shields that looked suspiciously patriotic.
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[Yes, that's an important factoid, okay.]
See, that's totally relatable. Cardboard shields were the next best thing to the real thing, okay.
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But I dunno, I'd feel bad actually keeping them in pokeballs.
....
If you threw a pokeball at a human, would they go in it, too?
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[Like, it's fine in a video game? But if they're real, that just seems cruel.
But huh. That-- is actually a very good question.]
Now I wish we had a pokeball to test that out. Maybe. What do you think it's like inside one of those things?
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Oh! Or maybe it's like the TARDIS.
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The TARDIS is a way better theory. Like you'd have room enough for a home in there or something.
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... Is there a pretzel-type Pokemon yet?
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[He pauses.]
You know, I don't think so. I guess if you found a Ditto, you could train it to turn into a pretzel or something.
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Was that real, or am I just fever-dreaming things?
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[why does he know this??
Because Teddy's geek level has reached its peek, or something.]
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Oh my god, that was real. I don't even remember how I saw so much of it.
[Dude was just a baby when it was on TV.]
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Dude, it was totally real. I still don't even understand why, but it was so awesome.