IC CONTACT POST

[uberboned]

[A woman's voice comes over the line.]

You've reached the Trickster's voicemail. Unfortunately, Mr. Trickster isn't available to take your call, nor will he likely ever be. Should you still wish to leave a message, please respond after the tone, and maybe we'll remember to get it to him, mmkay?

[Beep]

[[OOC: This is an IC voicemail post for all verses games. Please put the name of the verse/game you want in the subject heading.]]

Comments

PUDDIN' POP~

[paterelohim]

Uh, actually...

[Ffffff.]

[checkoutpandora.livejournal.com]

[A beat]

I want copies.

[paterelohim]

Hey, man. All you had to do was ask.

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

Oh, I'm asking. I need a Christmas card.

[paterelohim]

Get over here and I can show you the video.

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

Bribing me to get me into that damn house, huh? You minx.

[paterelohim]

If you can stay for ten extra minutes, the alarms will never go off for you again. Besides. Don't you want the video?

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

Temptress.

[A sigh] Gimme a minute.

[paterelohim]

I'm... just drawn that way? [Shrug.] Okay. Waiting~

Offline

[checkoutpandora.livejournal.com]

[AND LO DID AN ANGEL APPEAR AT THY DOOR AND RING THY DOORBELL.]

[paterelohim]

[And lo did the drunkest Hobbit of them all let the angel in with a shit-eating smirk.]

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

Okay, let's see it. [Even though he's headed to the fridge. If he's going to lurk Casa Del Magneto, he is going to eat ALL THE FOOD.]

[paterelohim]

Gimme a sec. [Jeez Gabriel, he has to find the file first okay.

That didn't take long. Chuck beckons him.]

C'mere, come here.

[The video is noisy and not the greatest, but clearly shows Chuck, Michael, and Lucifer around a table, singing drunkenly and very, very badly. Chuck appears as smashed as they are, but when Michael and Lucifer drop off from singing to lean against each other and dissolve in giggles, the way he smoothly takes a drink and smirks when they can't see him is decidedly too evil to be accidental.]

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

[Snickering and in sing-song] Iii found our Christmas card~

[paterelohim]

[Sniggering and trying really REALLY hard to keep a leash on his glee~]

They'll kill you and decorate a Christmas tree with you, dude.

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

Worth it.

[paterelohim]

Can we get this thing in a Superbowl commercial?

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

Bet we could. This could be beer commercial gold.

[paterelohim]

Tequila, actually.

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

[Impressed stare] Classy.

[paterelohim]

Tequila shooters. [With lime and salt. Chuck looks pleased with himself.]

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

Did they lick the glasses or their hands first? This is crucial.

[paterelohim]

Their hands.

[Putting a hand to his forehead to just laugh.]

I got Satan and the Archangel Michael to lick themselves.