Thread: Party Favors (Attn: Malks at the Asylum 6/23/10)

Maddalena peers at the security camera screen watching JTM stand there knocking on the door. She stands, debating making him wait. The though seems funny and so she just continues to stand, watching JTM, studying him, waiting to see what he will do.

Ferguson is strolling about the Asylum's well-tended grounds, looking at the stars and occasionally writing furiously in a small and tattered notebook. He is so caught up in his perambulation that he absentmindedly strolls into the bike. He looks down at the bike with a frown, and looks about for its owner.

JTM bangs abit more on the door.

“Goddamit!! I know you guys can see me. Now open up. This aint funny anymore.”

He turns to see a body walk right into the bike. He quickly catches it before it falls. He looks a little pissed at Ferguson.

“Dammit Fergie. Why don’t you fucking watch where you’re going. Put that book down and pay attention.”

He shoves the bike over to him setting the kickstand.

“Here you go. One Ducati rental for a week as promised.”

He slaps the paperwork in Ferguson’s open book pointing at him.

“Paperwork and rental of this for a week for Joy. Keep it with the bike in case they get into trouble with it. It’s got full coverage so she can fuck it up all she wants to. I can afford the whole bike if she totals it anyways. It’s in my name with extra drivers on the papaerwork. I paid a pretty penny for this. I hope they remember that.”

He snaps his fingers at Ferguson to get him to pay even closer attention.

“Make damn sure she returns it to the rental place on time. The address is on the paperwork. I’ll make a call over here and check on it, but it’s your deal and show now, Ferguson. I trust they wouldn’t flaunt this gracious request of a gift either, however you want to fucking process what I just said. Sit on it if you want and read your damn book for all I care. Oh yeah. Here. Catch. He flings the bike keys to Ferguson. You take it in there. Give that bad boy to Joy ASAP. I got other biz I gotta do. You don’t want to piss em off by waiting. I know you REALLY don’t.”

He turns to walk away down to the parking lot realizing he doesn’t have a bike now. Pulling at his hair frustrated, he keeps walking towards his next destination contemplating his next move..

Ferguson stands mutely as the Brujah Primogen's tirade flies over his head, catching bits and pieces of the monologue. Words like 'Joy' and 'paper work' stick out, but for the most part he's dumbfounded by the situation he just found himself in. As the Primogen bowls over the Malkavian, Ferguson stutters and stammers half-heartedly, trying to explain that he doesn't know anything about the motorcycle, or where to put it.

The Kook falls silent as the Rabble finishes his speech, staring from the slowly receding figure walking down the driveway to the keys laying in the flat of his palm. He bounces them up and down for moment, toying with the idea of trying to ride the hog, but thinks better of it, not wishing to become a pate platter at the hands of the Brujah elder.

Ferguson turns around and walks over to the door JTM was hammering on, and raps softly three times. "Um, hello? If anyone can hear me, I have a--package--for Joy. That is to say I, um...Hello?"

Suddenly a thought occurs to Ferguson as he's waiting for someone to respond to the knocking on the door. He fishes his cell phone out of a pocket crammed with scraps of papers and maps and time zone lists and then goes through his wallet for JMT's phone number, the one on the card the elder gave him at the soiree. Taking a deep, unnecessary breath, the Malkavian punches in the number and nervously awaits for an answering hello.

JTM is grumbling down the street just a few blocks away when his ass does the vibrate wiggle. He stops and pulls the cell out reading the caller ID answering it.

“What the fuck do you want now Fergie!!! What part of get the fucking bike in the asylum and deliver it to Joy didn’t sink in your thick fucking head!!! Maybe this’ll help you out. The keys I just gave you hold them out and jingle them abit. Now stop doing that and reach in your pockets to see if you have another set of keys there and jingle them. I’ll hold. (chuckling)”

He pauses a bit.

“Now if they were smart. Sometimes I even wonder about that. They would have given you some door key to the asylum so you could get in there. Find that fucking key and use it. If not, call one of em to let you in. You should ahve their numbers from the party. Shit!!! You are really new around here aint ya, Fergie. Wheel the bike to Joy and hand her the paperwork. Now how hard can that be!!! So unless you need anything else…don’t call me again, I’m really fucking busy Fergie. (pauses) UNLESS you wish to tell me, wait!! make that text me, that you got the bike delivered and the fucking job done!!!! Hopefully you got that. I aint repeating myself again.”

He hangs up on him walking down the street clenching his fists even more pissed.

Stupid fucking Fergie and those damn fucking malks. They knew I was coming by. I know they saw me. Keep walking JTM. You are almost out of the looney bin's turf. Just keep walking. Don't even think of looking back.

Once again, Laurent Ferguson finds himself at the recieving end of a Brujah outburst, this time however he is fortunate enough to be be able to hold the phone a foot away from his ear. As he listens to the elder expel his litany of invectives, he waits patiently, looking at his watch, trying to find a rhythm or undercurrent to the cussing. Finally the stream of words ends, and the line goes dead.

Ferguson sighs with dismay, and shakes his head in wonder at the conduct of one who claims the title of Primogen and respect due an elder. Shrugging his shoulders, he decided this time to go a more circuitous route, and instead sends a text message to Mr. Mogul.

It reads:

"Dear Mr. Mogul,
I have a proposition for you with regards to Malcolm.
It is a risky one, but may prove fruitful.
If interested, get back to me, text or phone.

Yours respectfully,
Laurent Ferguson"

Maddalena opens the door that Laurent is standing at with the bike as she chuckles. She waves a hand motioning for him to wheel the bike inside.

"JT will never figure out how to deal with us. Bring the bike inside for now. I'll call Joy and let her know it's here. How are you?"