cuddlr

[enarms]

John Watson (41) Ex-military doctor. Yes, that John Watson.

✓       ✕

YES / MATCH / TICK
<span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>


NO / CROSS
<span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>

Comments

[prettier]

The same way that everybody who agreed to come to fucktown to fix some massive fuck up in their life is. Right?

[enarms]

Can we move on?

[ it's not a request ]

[prettier]

[Did he hit a nerve, doctor.]

Where to?

[enarms]

[ honestly anywhere else ]

What do you do?

[prettier]

Food service. At home I worked in a canteen in an insurance office, here I'm playing greensleeves and selling 99s out of a van.

[enarms]

Oh. Joy.

[prettier]

It's a very rewarding, fulfilling career. With every flake I'm rewarded by a child's smile.

[That much sarcasm may not come across in text but he may seem too smart, or too old, for the form of work.]

[enarms]

[ there is surely not a person alive who could mean that wholeheartedly, especially not this person ]

It sounds like a dream. Grew up aspiring to spread Mr Whippy's good name I'll bet.

[prettier]

Actually, I was mentored into it by an older, more experienced ice cream man. Always happy to give me a screwball in the back of his van.

[enarms]

Right. Handy. An apprenticeship with benefits.

Do you have a catalogue of these or are you likely to run out soon?

[prettier]

A catalogue of what, exactly?

[enarms]

Double entendres.

[prettier]

If that's what they are. You might just have a filthy mind, Mr Watson.

[enarms]

I might've been about to congratulate you on your craftsmanship but clearly I was mistaken.

[prettier]

It's just words. Though I am very good with my tongue.

[enarms]

I wouldn't dare doubt it.

[prettier]

it's not a threat. It's not even a promise.

[enarms]

Never said it was.

So. I'll let you know when I've got that suit. Might even buy you a drink or two as a thank you.

[prettier]

Might even let you. Talk to you then, then, Doctor.