The phone's answered on the second ring, as per usual. "Pryde." Crisp, businesslike, nevermind the music playing in the background. Well, never mind unless you /like/ Elvis Costello. "Don't have any," replies Erik, tiredly. "Hi, Kitty. I was hoping to get ahold of you before you found Ria. Am I too late?" "... You'd better not, or I'd have to start checking my drinks for Rohypnol. No, you're not too late - I haven't been able to go hunting as much as I'd like, yet. Which is good, because it occurred to me that there're a few things I should probably know first." Amusement, there; then more seriously, "How're you feeling? Besides 'like crap.'" "Rohypnol? That's, uh, not familiar. You'll have to forgive me on that count," Erik stretches out a little, grunting once. "Like crap. Just for emphasis. Other than that? I'm managing along okay. Emma's been pretty cool with the whole thing. The joy of having room mates. Anyways, I wanted to tell you that Ria, uh, doesn't *know* me that well." "Well, yeah, that's because you're not scum." There's a faint creaking on Kitty's end, then a muffled yelp and words away from the phone: "Hey! Come back here with - okay, okay, you can /have/ it. Cripes." Then something inaudible, followed by, "No, it's okay," and Kitty getting back to the cellphone. "Sorry about that. Glad Emma's not freaking. I passed your message on to your downstairs neighbor to pass on to your /other/ downstairs neighbor, by the way. The question is, how not-well does Ria know you? First-name basis, or no?" "Not even. She knows my favorite color, though." replies Erik, blandly. "Emma freaked, but more in the 'Jesus you got the hell beat out of you' kind of way. I'm..not quite sure how to explain it all to her, but I'm managing." "I commend to you our usual plan: 'improvise like fuck.' And I'll be careful taking Ria holiday shopping for you, no worries." Kitty pauses for a moment. "Anything else we can do for you?" "Improvise! Sounds like a great plan to me," Erik tries to sound cheery, but it doesn't work too well. "I think I'll just tell her I got hit by a train. A really big train. It'll be close to the truth, anyways." "Crunch," Kitty offers brightly. "Except that trains usually produce a 'splat'. I'd go for a bus if I were you." "Mmn. A bus. Sure. That works just fine. I got hit by a bus. A really big, green bush with fists the size of boulders. I'm hoping she didn't put two and two together. 'Hulk fight', 'Erik comes home UTTERLY THRASHED SAME DAY'. Hmmm. She probably did and is politely not saying anything about it." Erik seems amused by this. "Well, that's the advantage of the English types, isn't it. They just don't ask." Pause, and Kitty corrects, "The /polite/ English types. Shut up, you." Now that gets a laugh from Erik. "Right, right. I'm sure it is. Hopefully, the downstairs neighbor will have a clue what to do with the guy. Right now, I'm not sure what else I can do with him. I really don't have the faintest. I mean, he's just this... this *guy*." He soundsa bit weirded out by that. "Good luck," Kitty advises. "At least he's getting the request from the person he's most likely to be listening to, right?" The idea of the Hulk being 'just this guy' doesn't seem to weird her out. Too much. But then, it's not /her/ problem. "No kidding. I'm gonna need all the luck I can get to deal with this. Not to mention his help. I'm hoping he might be able to, uh, you know, help figure out a way to keep the guy from flipping out like a ninja or something." Erik coughs, clears his throat. "Anyways, I'm a little concerned. I can't keep him forever." Kitty says dryly, "Don't look at us there. Our solution usually involves calling the police or something, and I don't think that's what you're looking for." She pauses. "If you figure out any way we /can/ help, though - yell, okay?" "Sure thing," replies Erik. "Thanks a lot. I mean that, you know. The painkillers were, uh..yeah. Really nice." Mmmn. Painkillers. "Oh, man, you /needed/ those. That's, you know." Pause of about the length of a shrug. "Basic, right?" Doesn't count! "Well, yeah. Yeah, I did. But it was still really cool of you to bring those by. Other than? Absolutely. I will. You know the same applies to me if you guys need anything." Of course, when he can *do* just about anything.. ...that would actually be kind of frightening if Kitty thought about it. "Understood and appreciated." A pause. "Uh. Erik. Ask a silly question, but - who do you guys have handling groceries right now?" "..I'm assuming Barbara," replies Erik. "I, uh.. haven't exactly been paying attention. I haven't exactly asked Emma to do it, that's for sure. I think Supermarkets are just a bit much for her right now." "'Kay," Kitty agrees. "I'll see if I can waylay Barbara on her way into school, and check with her about it. If not, well, time for me to drag Emma on an educational experience, right?" "That wouldn't hurt to do anyways," Erik says agreeably, "to tell you the truth. I'm pretty sure she's not gonna be wanting to live here *forever*. I mean, there's three-..oh god." There's a lingering moment of silence. And then, crooned into the cellphone in a voice that doesn't /quite/ manage to stay on-key, the inevitable words. "Come and knock on our door... We've been waiting for you..." "I hate my life," replies Erik, quietly. He sounds downright pained now. "Could be worse," Kitty comforts. "Could be John Ritter." "At least nobody thinks I'm gay," replies Erik. "I hope." He coughs once, clears his throat. "Moving on!" "... Erik? How about - fleeing? I think you broke my brain twice in the last three minutes." "Score," replies Erik, this time with a bit more cheer. "But, uh. Yeah. *Fleeing* on. Anything new with you and Pete?" "We don't have /time/ for anything new," Kitty replies cheerfully. "We've got two and a half weeks left before the wedding. Life's too insane to put new things in it." "Speaking of the wedding, I really hope I'm up and around for it." Erik seems earnest there. "I'm definitely not going to be up and around by Christmas, which is going to make putting that lump of coal in Constantine's stocking a real pain in the ass." "Oh, I'll /happily/ help you make deliveries." Kitty's just sounding way too pleased there. "Especially if it involves Constantine and coal. Wonder if we could rig a camera to catch his expression for you." "Ooohooh. Do it!" Erik says, his voice now taking a teasing tone, "Actually, if you want the honors, you could deliver it and put it under his pillow. You could be the Coal Fairy!" "Hey. /Hey/. I want /nothing/ to do with his bed." Firm and irate Kitty! - up until she gives in and cracks up. A pause on his part and then he says, "...good point." Of course, it's only a few seconds before he too is snickering loudly. He can be heard shifting around a little in an effort to get comfortable. "Nope. I draw the line at stockings. Of course, the stocking in and of itself would probably be a shock to the guy. Somehow, I don't think he goes in for the decorations." Kitty pauses. "This is way too tempting." Finally, Erik manages to get his own laughter under control. "Well, of course it is. I was going to do it, but I haven't had a chance to get ahold of John to deliver the lump in the first place. Besides, I wanted to do it in front of a crowd so that everyone can have a good laugh, but, yeah.. If we can get a picture? Just as good." Kitty says cheerfully, "I'll see what we can do for you. And if not, hey, crowds aren't hard to come by around this bunch." "True, true. Do you think there's going to be a Christmas party this year?" Erik asks, curiously. "Seishi said there might be. I mean, apparently Sigerson likes the holiday." Kitty's tone is speculative; she doesn't really know. There's a pause. "Sigerson. Likes Christmas." It would appear he's somewhat incredulous. Kitty says only, "That's what she said. I don't know, I wasn't here last year, it's not even my holiday, don't ask me." "I don't know whether to be frightened or amazed," replies Erik. "I really don't. I'm leaning towards 'frightened'." "Apparently, last year, he made dinner. Goose, actually." Kitty pauses. "That was the bit that got me." "Goose. Goose. Oh, geeze." Erik lets out a low laugh. "Well, I'll spare you the 'goose is cooked' jokes, okay?" "Thanks. I've been getting enough of those." Pause, and the glare - not at Erik, is audible. "Make that /more/ than enough. Grrr. Ahem. Anyway - your neighbors would be the best bet for knowing about any parties." "Yeah. I'll try and check in with them soon. I've been meaning to since, you know. The Big Green Thing and all." "Except," Kitty agrees, "stairs, big problem. With any luck they'll come up and visit, right?" "Oh, I'm not worried about navigating the stairs," Erik replies cheerily. "Getting around should be easy. But, yeah. It'd be easier if they came up to visit." "Definitely. I mean. Crutches are /such/ a pain." Not that Erik has to use them, but Kitty relies on the less-than-painfully-obvious references when she can get away with it. "Anyway, Sei knows, so, well, you'll probably be seeing her." "That's a plus. I could use the company." Erik tells her. "One can only spend so many hours in the day watching movies. Hey, at least I won't have to worry about work." "Ba-dum-ching," Kitty supplies ruefully. "Hey, did you manage to get your house line working again yet?" "Uh," Erik coughs once. "Yeah. New phone. A couple new phones, actually, just in case I..break one again." "Just checking," Kitty says lightly. "Around this place, it's alarm clocks." "Gee. I wonder why that is." Erik lets out a laugh. "It's a good thing I don't have to worry about that." "Because you'd need to replace 'em daily, yeah." Kitty's sounding amused. "Okay. Okay. Anything else? I'm getting looks, here." "Nope. I'll let you go. You take care. I'll talk to you later." Erik yawns, but its a muffled one. He's being polite. "And you get some sleep," Kitty mock-insists - and then laughs. "Like any force on Earth could stop you. You take care, too. I'll let you know how things go." Now that gets a laugh. "Fear the force of my snoring, for it is mighty. Talk to you later, Kitty." Click!