calloperators | TEST DRIVE

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***

Waking up
Where the hell were you last night? Maybe waking up in an unfamiliar bed with a blacked-out memory isn't so unusual for you, but that buzzing in your head is. The phone beside you rings with a 7:00 AM wake-up call, and a message left behind:

Go downstairs, to the lobby. Meet the others. Don't get attached, and don't mention this call.

The AC is busted and in this hot summer, you probably won't want to stay in your room forever.

What's new, Pussycat?
Of course, there's much more around here than just the motel. Stepping out and hitting the town will give you plenty to do. There's stores aplenty, but that's nothing to say of the good residents of the stores; your friendly neighborhood bodega cats. They're content to laze around the aisles, though the more playful sorts may swat at your wayward accessories as you pass by.

Don't mind that they seem to disappear - and reappear - with a blink. That's just something cats can do.

Hungry?
Of course you are! There's plenty of places to eat here, but why go to some no-name joint when you can go to McDonalds? They've got burgers, they've got fries, they've got McPizza, and they even have a playplace! ...Though you're probably too old for the ball pit.

Regardless of what you order, if you even order, the cashier presses a small toy into the palm of your hand. Don't you feel a pair of tiny eyes on you?

McMurder
For fuck's sake, someone only went and killed a guy in the McDonald's parking lot. Maybe his head is smashed in under that chicken mask, or maybe you'll want to check? You could do the right thing and work out who did this, or you could make off with his baseball bat. The choice is yours.

Night life
What good's a city that goes to sleep? When the sun goes down, the lights go up. The city becomes aglow with every colour of the neon rainbow, with bowling alleys, nightclubs, karaoke bars, arcades and soon-to-be-extinct roller discos competing for your attention until the sun comes up. You're here, there's no curfew, it's time to make the most of it.

Wildcard
Have something else in mind? Go wild, and party like it's 1989.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Clover jolts a little, startled, and makes an equally sloppy attempt at playing like she was actually just adjusting her hood.]

...

Doing what?

[CLOVER THE BAT HANDLE IS VISIBLE]

Your famous bat disappearing act. Don't get me wrong, went great, real amazing stuff, totally disappeared without a trace, but you probably just got blood all over the inside of that sweatshirt.

...

[uuuggGGGGHHH she's CAUGHT!! she scoffs, mildly annoyed at worst, and makes a huge dramatic show of rolling her eyes, like a proper teenage girl]

It'll wash out.

I kiiiinda feel like whether or not your clothes are ruined are the least of your problems right now.

[Venkman crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows. He's not horrified or anything, just critical.]

Why are you stealing murder weapons?

[Come on, kid, if you're gonna steal something from a dead body, at least don't be so obvious about it. And start small.]

[in her defense, this exact tactic worked the last time she tried it]

He sure isn't using it anymore.

[sweet li'l smile!!]

I don't really think it's a murder weapon, though. [With no small amount of effort, considering, y'know, the bat, she crouches down by the corpse's masked head, and smiles real cute up at Venkman.] Wanna see?

[MMM DOES HE THO]

Thanks, but I already hit my quota on poking at dead bodies for the week. Plus, I just ate.

[Venkman isn't quite stupid enough to crouch down on the ground next to a corpse and a girl who tried to steal the corpse's weapon, thanks.

He is, however, just stupid to lean down a little to get a better look at the head. So if her end goal here is to knock him out, she might have a chance.]

In my, uh, professional medical opinion, that looks a lot like a caved in skull. Pretty sure the blood-covered bat could do that.

Oh, it definitely is. [She giggles. Venkman should consider, perhaps, being literally anywhere else.] Look at this, though.

[Apparently unperturbed by all of the, uh, everything, Clover tugs at the stupid chicken mask, not enough to dump all of the horrible gore out of it, but enough to show and point at the corpse's neck.]

Someone slashed his throat.

[my specialty personally is making stupid tdm hypotheticals more complicated than they need to be because clover has exactly enough sense to not steal the murder weapon from a crime scene she knows people are going to investigate when she doesn't care about anyone involved—she's just too busy dedicating her one brain cell to that specific task to be good at stealing the murder weapon]

[oh that is so valid

Venkman grimaces and leans in a little closer.]

You're right. Still, you can't really slash someone and cause blunt force trauma with the same object, so there's probably two weapons. And it's hard to tell which came first- the head trauma or the cut throat. He coulda died from either. [He taps his chin in thought.] Cut looks pretty even- no jagged edges, so whatever did this must be sharp.

[He's learned a few things from working with ghosts over the years, including "what recently-deceased murder victims' wounds look like". Sometimes, their wounds transfer over to the ghostly form, particularly for those traumatized by the circumstances of their death.]

My take is, [she says all this lightly, standing once she's done listening to Venkman (having to hold the bat in place as she moves, um) and rocking back and forth on her heels,] what's the point in slashing someone's throat after you bash their head in like that? It doesn't affect your presentation. You're not adding anything. Not really.

[is this an art critique, clover? is this your review???]

Do it the other way around, though, and you're hoping everyone's too grossed out by the worst of it to realize you were too much of a weenie to do it while he was alive.

So I'm keeping the bat.

[CLOVER]

Maybe. Or maybe he got his brains bashed, but was still kickin', so they cut his throat so he'd go ahead and die already? Or the other way around, I guess.

... I don't like the cops any more'n anyone else, but I'm pretty sure they, like. Need that as evidence. Or at least someone does.

[He's already taken the hint that the law is handled differently in this place.]

You're already in the middle of brain-bashing, why bother with a whole new weapon?

[commit to your brutal murder methods!! go all the way!!!! she's unimpressed, less with venkman and more like the hypothetical murderer he's come up with]

Yeah, well, that's not my problem.

[THIS IS A PROBLEM SHE CREATED]

Good point. Could be they just had a really weak arm for this kinda job and weren't sure they could kill with just the bat.

It'll be your problem if someone bangs on your door asking why you're holding crucial evidence?

[He's not really a snitch but like. Obviously someone's gonna notice the fucking bat she's "hiding".]

What, you gonna snitch?

[listen. no. no CLEARLY the ONLY mistake she made was not checking carefully enough to make sure no one was watching her in the act ONCE SHE'S OUT OF HERE SHE'S GOLDEN??? SHE'S VERY GOOD AT THIS]

I dunno. I could.

[He probably wouldn't bother. But she doesn't need to know that.]

Why, is my silence worth somethin' to you?

You could.

[She rocks on her heels some more, sways and smiles.]

You shouldn't, though. It'll just be more trouble than it's worth for you.

What kinda trouble? Being vague like that- not really a decent motivator.

[Peter Venkman is not above blackmail and not above blackmailing teenagers with baseball bats who may or may not be willing to kill him]

So, what's in it for me?

TEST DRIVE

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