Boyfriend-be-gone (Tim)

[Tim Tawfeek]

"What else would you call me?" murmured Tim, wondering if he'd somehow taken a wrong turn on his way here and ended up in some hell of some kind. Maybe he'd walked into someone's illusions of his worst nightmares? No, no, Tim knew precisely what his worst nightmares involved: a certain young woman dying and rejecting him with his last breath. Yeah, this was probably just... a mild annoyance illusion instead.

Was that even a thing?

"yeah, I see, loads of gifts. Most of them seem to revolve around doing an awful lot of talking. Someone should lock you in a room with Frank Cox, see what happens," sighing, Tim reached up to adjust his glasses, at this point feeling more tired then anything else. "Look, are you actually going to hit me with the bat? Because I'd kind of like to get to the actual eating thing, and I'd like to get the beating thing over with beforehand if that's alright with you. You know," Tim shrugged, busy day and all.

And if Jack didn't actually go through with it, then Tim was pretty well just figuring that the guy was all talk and no walk, which would be something of a relief.

[Jack McCarthy]

JACK. HAD BAT. BAT.HIT.HURT. BAT.HIT HURT. A LOT. What the hell was it about that concept that Mr. Tim Tawfeek didn’t get? This guy was crazy. If the roles were reverse and Jack was the one threatened by being hit in the face with a blunt object repeatedly it would be a very fucking short conversation indeed. As Jack would do anything to avoided getting the shit beat out of him. Shit maybe that was his power? Maybe Tim had the ability to control any and every Bat. Maybe the moment Jack swung for his face and that excessively stupid haircut, Tim would turn Jack’s loyal weapon of choice against him…

…and he would stop there oh no no no. Before Jack knows it a fucking army of bats would come floating into the room making a beeline for Jack and confirming the fact that like most things seemed to do this plan would blow up in his face “Oh, I don’t know what I would call you: Tommy, Timmy Tomas, T-bone, Timmy tommy tim tim mcgee. Tori. Barry. What every your name is” Jack said waving off Tim’s question “Please, if I was locked in a room with Frank Cox, that’ll be only one reason for it…to sacrifice me to the care bears or some shit like that. That girl be cray-cray” Jakc shuddered wondering vaguely the horrors that would await him if he was locked in a room with that maniac “Oh yeah I’m totally going to hit you in the face…any second now… Here it comes, a face full of bat. Right now. Coming up right now….Yup…Bat to the face incoming. Any secord. I am not over selling how soon this is going to happen. Because when it happens you’ll know about it…which is right now…yup”

[Tim Tawfeek]

Tim stared at Jack as he kept prattling. Tim's expression had gone from something like anger to something like frustration to now just sort of a bored acceptance of the whole thing. Jack talked about hitting him an awful lot for someone who wasn't actually doing any real hitting here. For that matter, had Jack ever actually hit anyone with a bat? Tim had heard a good deal about him threatening to do so and all, but he couldn't recall ever hearing anything that said that Jack followed through with the threats.

Talking seemed to not be doing anything, so Tim figured an action would help. He calmly, very calmly, reached up and removed his glasses. he folded them and tucked them away into a pocket. Then, his body fighting the urge to just turn and sprint away as fast as he possibly could, Tim looked back up at Jack, locking eyes with him. and he raised his brows, very clearly letting Jack know that it was his move.

[Jack McCarthy]

Finally! It seems like Jack has reached his spectacled little foe, it was about time to, Jack was getting tired, this was a lot of rambling and bluster even for Jack his throat was getting dry and his voice was getting a little horse he never needed to convince someone to leave him alone, with this must effort before it disagreed with him to be honest, this amount of effort was against his very nature to say the very least, talking and pissing people off was his bread and butter, he was born with a silver tongue in his mouth and he was very talented at messing with people’s head

But this guy? This fucking guy? He was getting nothing from him, he was just numb to the entire thing Nothing Jack was saying was leaving any kind of a mark nor was the lingering threat of him getting his skull caved in by a pretty sizable bat. It was like he was immune to Jack Mccarthy’s signature brand of babbling

That was scary for Jack…

But it looked like that was the end of it, silence is golden or so the saying went so Jack took his silent as a victory

…Until he turned to Jack taking off his glasses as if to say “Are you going to do it or what?

Jack was…panicking Oh God was he meant to hit him now? Jesus he didn’t want to hit someone that would be bad joo-joo

“Ok here it comes! You ask for it, one bat in the face coming up and-Oh would you look at the time! I need to go to the pudding store to buy…pudding but you…Ohhh you. You have no idea how lucky you are, the things I was going to do to you ohhh man you..you were in trouble” Jack said rapidly backing off going to leave the scene

“Oh, and it’s probably best if you didn’t tell Lux about this

[Tim Tawfeek]

Tim squinted at Jack, listening. The act continued for a while, with Jack insisting that he was going to swing the bat and get to the beating and all. Tim already started wincing, figuring that he'd finally pushed the final button, crossed the last line that would result in the bat actually being used against him.

Instead, Jack suddenly backed off, both verbally and physically. Tim dared open an eye, looked at the retreating guy. Pudding? He was... Tim couldn't help but smile, grin. "Yeah, figured," he said, swelling back up. Jack was already moving away, and Tim just chuckled. "You are so all talk, McCarthy. And you'd better hope I don't tell Lux."

Tim grinned then. He was already trying to think of how to word this... and then he pictured Lux's face as he tried to explain that her best friend wanted to beat up her boyfriend with a baseball bat. The smile slid right off, and Tim nearly began cursing again. There really was just no winning here, was there? No gloating either, and when else was Tim going to be able to gloat.