Nov. 22nd, 2011

bravabarber: (Default)
Action: 2238 Stevens Road

(Let it not be said that Figaro is not a lady's man; he has both loved and lusted women from all walks of life. From the lowliest peasant to the highest of noble birth, he is, after all, a man driven solely by passion for what he loves. He has been young once and done his share of love-making under the stars.

However, he's fairly certain that he did not hire any prostitute last night, nor does he currently have a lover. So when he wakes up at the crack of dawn (for a such is a barber's life to get up at the whee hours of the morning) and sees an unfamiliar women at his side, his first thought is that he must've drunk too much at the local tavern again, to celebrate all the coins that the Count has paid him. A quick exit is preferable, so he searches for his clothes. But in the course of doing so, he catches sight of himself in the mirror. After a few moments of staring at himself in those weird clothes, pinches himself hard. Once, twice, thrice, just in case he's still asleep.

The curtains are also thrown open, and when he sees not his beloved Seville but a strange city with many strange contraptions, he has to stare and gape in horror, before he yells out in fear and dives back under the sheets.)

Oh Dio, oh Dio, OH DIIIIIIIIIIIIOOOOOOOOOOOO~

(The last word is sung out loud, to a high G. Too bad that Figaro has a really, really loud voice too. At least it's in tune?)

Phone:

(The phone rings around Mayfield, and residents will be treated to some very curious chatter today if they pick up.)

I wonder...what does this device do?

(The receiver is banged several times on the table, while the user continues to talk to himself.)

It's a strange shape indeed, much like most of the other items in this household. It's highly impractical too; it lacks the power of a hammer, the sharp blades of a pair of scissors, and I am fairly certain it can't bake bread. The artisan who crafted this should be ashamed of himself for creating such a useless item. Unless I have yet to find the purpose of it. Come on Figaro, think, think, THINK. Use that wonderful brain of yours to solve this puzzle, there's nothing too difficult that you can't figure out!

(Does anyone want to assist the stranger on the other side? I mean, ignoring the fact that it's 6 o clock in the morning and he probably woke up the entire town by smashing the phone on the table, he really does sound like he need help.)

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