knewaguy | (no subject)

I mean, I want you to tell me if I'm being threatened, yeah. I don't think that's that strange of an ask.
Serial killers threaten their victims all the time. Huge cornerstone of the serial killer industry. Sideshow Bob literally passed out after writing Bart all those threats in blood.
You're acting like people don't send each other threats all the time. Daily. Hourly.
Somewhere out there, someone is threatening someone else. Right now. That's literally happening as we speak.

Threats come with blood, not with icing
seems you have an admirer, if anything

Okay, well, you've met me, so you know that's not true. Tell me with a straight face that I'd be more likely to have an admirer than a killer.

would a stone cold killer worry about allergens

Maybe. Yes. Yes. Let me think.
Uh.
Okay. Yes. Yes. I would want to know what someone was allergic to if I were planning to poison them.
Maybe these cupcakes are harmless! Maybe they're as innocent as they look. That doesn't make them any less dangerous.
Maybe if the person trying to kill me finds out I'm deathly allergic to seafood, or something, they'll send me a fucking lobster bisque next.
This could be an information... gathering. Mission. So.
Yeah.
Foolproof.

Okay, so, full disclosure.
It is my birthday today.
But nobody should know that! I haven't told anyone. The constant fear of being killed in my sleep hasn't exactly put me in the mood to celebrate.

[ and if he has told anyone, he doesn't remember doing it. because he was a very sleepy boy when he made that comment in passing without really thinking about it. ]

you think you're too unimportant to have an admirer yet you're convinced someone will want to kill you this much?
kid, trust me
if they want you dead they'll just kill you.

happy birthday.

I don't think I'm unimportant. Just more likely to be killed than secretly secret admirered.
Anyway.
I'm eighteen. You're now legally prohibited from calling me "kid".

Edited 2020-04-07 06:09 (UTC)

you're still a kid.

what happened to that guy you know from home
he know it's your birthday?

Am not. I'm a grown-ass man.
You're a kid.
You're a big bearded baby.

Derek? Dude, I love the guy, but I'd sooner expect lovingly crafted cupcakes from you than from him.
Which. I mean.
I can't pretend like I haven't considered the possibility that maybe you're behind this.

Point still stands, he know it's your birthday?
He could've told someone. Secrets aren't always secrets

especially when you run your mouth the way you do.

I don't think he knows. I don't think he talks to other people, either. Generally speaking.
I guess I can ask him, but he'll probably just stare at me until I leave him alone. Which - by the way - free tip?
That won't work if you try it, so don't even bother.

Anyway. If I start thinking about these little bastards as genuine displays of generosity and affection, there are only a couple of people worth fingering as potential culprits.
I just needed you to tell me if you could sniff out a murder plot here, so. Thanks. For doing that.
I kind of assumed that your definitely real job as a definitely real limo driver forced you to witness a ton of danger and heinous criminal activity, which is part of why I came to you. Figured your instincts might be sharper and less baselessly paranoid than mine.
I'm working under the assumption that you were, like, fully Liam Neeson back home. If you haven't dived out the window of an evil corporate office or a penthouse suite firing machine guns and witty one liners then I don't know what to think.

I don't like guns

[But, y'know, otherwise kind of on point.]

Pretty sure you're safe, kid
if you don't feel it - throw that shit out and stake out your door
see if they come back and confront them

I mean, I can't do that. Gift giving is a sacred art. I can't spit in my very secret friend's face by being all, like, "hey, love the gifts, super appreciate them, are you trying to kill me?". That level of paranoia is just a little too end game Walter White for me.

[ there's a long, long pause. ]

Amara wouldn't give me cupcakes. I think. Maybe. She seems a little too intense for cupcakes. Derek's the same.
My other friend doesn't eat. My other friend is a surly old man. That's you.
So.

[ only one person left, really. ]

So. Okay. Sorted. I think.
Deduction deducted. Deduced? Deduction deduced.
I think these are from a guy I know. Which I guess I don't need to tell you? I don't need to keep you updated on this anymore. But.
There we go. Great. Okay.
I should leave you to it? I'm gonna leave you to it.

so you do have an admirer.

I mean, I have a friend, yeah.
"Admirer" seems like a strong word. He's getting me cupcakes, not penning me a heartwrenching goodbye from neck-deep in the trenches.
I think I kind of annoy him, actually? Hard to admire someone who annoys you. That's why you've never told me how much you value all my good work cleaning your car and eating your food.

[Yeah, Logan's not going to get into this weird teenager bullshit.]

we've solved your pressing problem
anything else or can I get back to the shit I was doing

I was pretty clearly fishing for a thank you for cleaning your car.
Wasn't even being subtle. That's clearly the anything else.

I think paying you and letting you eat my food is thanks enough

Incorrect.

It's my birthday. I deserve nice things. I deserve to hear you say something nice about me.
Could be anything, really. Doesn't even have to be a thank you, if that's too hard.
We could jump straight to the solid, hearty compliments. I'll even go first!
I like your beard. Very rugged. Remember when the Internet was nothing but Chuck Norris jokes? Makes me feel like I'm back in that era.

I've stopped wanting to kill you
but we walk a thin line back that way each time you do this.

Do what?
Communicate?

I'm hanging up now

Shy because I said I liked your beard, aren't you.
Bet you're blushing.
Lil old man face all pink and nervous.

[This is the sound of no reply. None. Nada. Nil.]