Edwin Jarvis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
edwinjarvis) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2018-05-28 06:00 pm
edwinjarvis) wrote in driftfleet2018-05-28 06:00 pm
Entry tags:
video;
Who: Edwin Jarvis and You!
Broadcast: Fleetwide!
Action: The Melting Pot, or Tourist!
When: Now-ish!
It is certainly that time of the year where I must broadcast the usual Help Wanted sign of sorts... Which is to say, if anyone would like a job in The Melting Pot, do let me know; we can always always use more hands on deck, especially cooks with any sort of capability. Hobbyists will even do, so long as you're not the kind of hobbyist to completely ruin a good meatloaf.
And I do apologize for being so missing in action because of it. I'm currently... woefully without aid here, at the moment. Which is hardly an issue when it's just the bistro in my hands, but I'd rather not slack on my other responsibilities.
[Like cleaning The Tourist to an uncomfortably shiny degree, or making at least two meals a day for the crew, or piloting people to their destinations, or making sure Miss Carter or Mr. Stark are doing well (and feeding them, too, shut up); he needs to be on his a-game!]
The pay is decent, and you're free to eat for free here.
... Like-wise, if you are not interested in a job but you're tired of whatever you're eating, by god, make your way here so I can properly feed you. And by all means, please tell me your favorite dishes; they may very well show up on the menu at some point, if I can get my hands on the ingredients necessary.
[He can be found at The Melting Pot, working everything solo (bless his soul), or he can be found on the SS Tourist, playing catch up by baking bread for the crew and setting out little cookie-like biscuits and a pot of well-heated coffee for whoever would be passing the kitchen table. He's humming a little tune to himself — an old 40's melody, though few other than his own friends would probably recognize it.
Unless you're one for old tunes.]
Broadcast: Fleetwide!
Action: The Melting Pot, or Tourist!
When: Now-ish!
It is certainly that time of the year where I must broadcast the usual Help Wanted sign of sorts... Which is to say, if anyone would like a job in The Melting Pot, do let me know; we can always always use more hands on deck, especially cooks with any sort of capability. Hobbyists will even do, so long as you're not the kind of hobbyist to completely ruin a good meatloaf.
And I do apologize for being so missing in action because of it. I'm currently... woefully without aid here, at the moment. Which is hardly an issue when it's just the bistro in my hands, but I'd rather not slack on my other responsibilities.
[Like cleaning The Tourist to an uncomfortably shiny degree, or making at least two meals a day for the crew, or piloting people to their destinations, or making sure Miss Carter or Mr. Stark are doing well (and feeding them, too, shut up); he needs to be on his a-game!]
The pay is decent, and you're free to eat for free here.
... Like-wise, if you are not interested in a job but you're tired of whatever you're eating, by god, make your way here so I can properly feed you. And by all means, please tell me your favorite dishes; they may very well show up on the menu at some point, if I can get my hands on the ingredients necessary.
[He can be found at The Melting Pot, working everything solo (bless his soul), or he can be found on the SS Tourist, playing catch up by baking bread for the crew and setting out little cookie-like biscuits and a pot of well-heated coffee for whoever would be passing the kitchen table. He's humming a little tune to himself — an old 40's melody, though few other than his own friends would probably recognize it.
Unless you're one for old tunes.]
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[She said before leaning in closer with a low whisper]
Have you sat in one yet?
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I would much prefer a golden telephone, if anything! Much more kind to the eye.
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[Mabel...!]
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I suppose I have to congratulate you on a joke well-made, young lady.
Treasure my begrudging respect well.
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You want to hear them?
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[oh dear lord help him]
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[Don't mind her as she clears her throat]
Why weren't the pirates allowed to see a movie?
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Why weren't they?
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[GET IT???]
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Raaarrgh?
[He does not. He's from 1945, Mabel, they didn't have R-Rated movies.]
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[Pause]
That or you can bring in a fake ID.
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Goodness, it sounds ominous.
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Are you serious? But aren't you an adult?
[Yup, that's the answer she's going with]
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Is it possible you're from a different time or place, then? You sound surprised that I wouldn't be familiar, after all.
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To think that there is a world out there where adults don't know what a rated R film is? That's scary!
[Pause] Although, it does probably allow me to see all the gore and violence without an adult...
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Gore and violence? What sort of horrid movies are in your world?
That's terribly unpleasant!