053. Trampled Under Foot (backdated to 5/Feb)

[samson]

[Brock's voice comes over the journal abruptly. He is pissed off! It's a little scary.]

Hey! Whatever jackass took all my freaking records from my cabin, I hope you take good care of your teeth. 'cause I am gonna feed them to you.

[Spike]
Somebody broke in and took your car. Did you piss anybody off I should know about?

Comments

[heloise]

Your secret records?

[samson]

[No, he keeps those in the journal, filtered to himself.

Brock has to take a second not to yell at her; it's not her fault! Probably. He still sounds pretty agitated, though.]

No, they're -- music records. Vinyl albums. I don't know how to explain it.

[heloise]

[ Yelling at her would result in very bad things, don't do it, Brock. ]

They are precious to you and someone took them away?

[samson]

[He has a bad temper, he can't help it!]

Yeah. But it's okay, 'cause I'm gonna kill whoever did it.

[heloise]

Is that a common punishment for stealing?

[mal_addict]

...As in the musical kind or the paper kind?

[samson]

Music. Like hell I'm going to leave paper records around. [Not after this happened, anyway........]

I'm gonna have to wish for them again, god damn it...

[He might be throwing stuff in the background. Manly temper tantrums!]

[mal_addict]

[So so so dryly. Dry as an arid riverbed]

Oh, you poor darling. It's absolutely horrible that something so vitally important has been taken from you.


[Then] At least they only robbed the place this time instead of destroying it.

[samson]

Hey ... shut up! [YEAH.

Anyway. He spends a moment pouting like a giant child, then continues.]

They took my friend's car, too.

[mal_addict]

No. It could have been worse.

...

How can someone even steal a car? Aren't they loud?

Brock

[gottaknockhard]

[Of course this would be the day that Spike forgets to check the journal. When he does, and sees this, it's like someone just told him his own mother was kidnapped. (If she weren't dead and all.) There's a brief period of tense silence before he snaps right in half.]

They did what? [It's right there on the page, but he feels the need to confirm that he needs to murder someone.]

Spike forevs

[samson]

Your car. Who they hell are "they"?

[gottaknockhard]

[He shouldn't have kept it there. Too many people knew about the cabin, it was probably only a matter of time.

They want to hit him with a low blow to piss him off, fine. He's pissed.]

So much for a guard dog.

[samson]

[Spike isn't the only one who's pissed! It's violating, to have his shit broken into and stolen.]

Hey. Stop being cagey. Who was it?

[gottaknockhard]

[Who else? There's only two who know what that car means.]

I'm heading over. [That wasn't an answer, Spike. But all he's thinking right now is following the tire tracks while they're still fresh.]

[hard_talker]

Holy fuck, that is SO many levels below cool.

[samson]

Yeah, no kidding! This is the last thing I needed.

[hard_talker]

... What were some've the ones you had? I've got a shitload, we might have had the same ones. You can borrow mine 'till you find whoever took 'em and kick their ass.

[samson]

Oh, hey... thanks, man. [Genuinely touched!! The way to Brock's big, dumb heart: taking his record collection seriously, apparently.]

Uh, pretty much the whole Zep catalog... Sabbath, Howlin' Wolf, the Stones... Permanent Waves too, but hell, I'll take any Rush you got as long as it's before Moving Pictures.

[hard_talker]

I'm starin' down 2112 right now, dude. [give him a second to think as he starts to pull some albums]

How d'you feel about Thorogood?

[asseenontv]

Would you like assistance with that?

['Star, pass up an opportunity to punch people? Never.]

[samson]

Once I find the asshole... what's it to you?

[asseenontv]

I'm very, very good at hitting people.

[samson]

Well, I don't need, like, a posse ...

[asseenontv]

Well. I thought I'd offer.