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So. Duke had been in Fandom for two weeks now. And while he'd absolutely never say out loud that he felt like he had a handle on things . . . he felt a bit like he had a handle on things.
Case in point: he was lounging on the deck of his boat, sipping bourbon and pondering whether or not he could sail to 2008 Baltimore, stash an inexpensive bottle somewhere, then walk across the causeway to 2019 Baltimore, pick it up, and sell it all nicely aged. He was pretty sure he could get away with something like that without breaking time. So long as he didn't manage to run into his older self or something. But wouldn't his older self know to just avoid Baltimore in 2019?
He was not so lost in such thoughts as to not notice the small green thing creeping around his crates, though. He dropped his hand down to the butt of the gun taped under his chair.
"Pretty sure biting your subjects is a big reporter no-no."
The gremlin made a sort of grumbling, snarling noise, and scuttled off. Duke nodded to himself and sipped his bourbon.
Yeah. He was getting a handle on things.
[open boat deck is open!]
Case in point: he was lounging on the deck of his boat, sipping bourbon and pondering whether or not he could sail to 2008 Baltimore, stash an inexpensive bottle somewhere, then walk across the causeway to 2019 Baltimore, pick it up, and sell it all nicely aged. He was pretty sure he could get away with something like that without breaking time. So long as he didn't manage to run into his older self or something. But wouldn't his older self know to just avoid Baltimore in 2019?
He was not so lost in such thoughts as to not notice the small green thing creeping around his crates, though. He dropped his hand down to the butt of the gun taped under his chair.
"Pretty sure biting your subjects is a big reporter no-no."
The gremlin made a sort of grumbling, snarling noise, and scuttled off. Duke nodded to himself and sipped his bourbon.
Yeah. He was getting a handle on things.
[open boat deck is open!]
