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«Thus Begins the evening we also call JP-in-a-Box»
JP eventually came back with what he set out to get: things one just doesn't easily steal. He acquired a bucket of nails, more electrical wire (because), an extension cord (previously owned and not yet missed), and a hot dog. Because he wanted one.
When he returned he nudged at doorknobs with an elbow to tag them and make them open thus avoiding making two trips which, as everyone knows, is for the weak. The hot dog had no hands though so that was just stuffed half in his mouth.
The apartment door opened and he got all of six steps in when he noticed the overly conspicuous box set up like a makeshift bunny snare with a beer under it. His beer to boot. All tied up with wire like a proper comedy. "Mrr faa urlhurr 'oo?" (Translation: What the hell now?)
Things were set down and oh this… had… so many implications to it. This Sev's? Slowly his glance angled upward reasoning, "Naaah, frere if this you you'd descend on me from the ceilin by now." He crawled around it examining this before his eyes went wide and he crabwalked back away from the box with as much alacrity as that allowed before he fell on his ass and just stared at the box wide-eyed with legs sprawled in front of him. "Meeeerde, merde merde merde…. Jean-Pierre what the hell you doin…."
Getting into trouble as always. And getting caught in the process, JP. Why you ask?
As always.
A finger tapped the box and poked it. It didn't collapse, explode, or turn him colours. It sat there as a box ought to. Finally he crawled under the box careful of the stick or lifting the beer. None of it was mechanical in the slightest so he was operating blind on this one. As a precaution he looked up into the box that was propped up with the broken paint stir and burst out laughing. "Aaaaaaaah fuck."And with that he snapped up the beer letting the box collapse on his torso.
There were worse things than bein caught sometimes.
It was a while later before anyone else showed back up at the loft above the garage and JP was still able to be found there laying on the floor, face up with the box eating his head and torso. The beer, notably, was empty.
When Elmo comes upstairs, toolbelt cinched on in preparation to do some fishing, that's what he finds. JP on the floor with a box for a head. His eyebrows go up as he assesses the situation. Beer: empty. Box: on head. JP: not bleeding. So he goes over and lightly thunks the box with the side of his work boot. "Hey. Sleepin' Beauty."
Severin eventually returns to find JP on the floor with a box on his head, an empty beer in hand, and Elmo kicking at the side of the box. The cat just smiles, smugly, even though he is in person form at the moment, and just wanders into the kitchen. "Well, they set the right kinda bait, anyway," he opines as he goes to get himself another beer. "Evenin' Elmo," he says with a sly grin.
From inside the box there was a muffled sound, partly French, part deflection, and almost entirely incoherent. Not a lot was happening where movement was concerned but he tried again in English bother not to get up or move the box. That was effort. "Hey Elmo… that Sev smirkin? It soundin like he smirkin. " His hand jostled the bottle. yup. Empty. "They say get someone somethin they get fo' themself…why not give em their own shit then mmmMmm?"
"Evenin', Seveleh," Elmo replies, like finding JP on the floor in a box is totally normal. To be fair, it is. "You, uh, you know anythin' about why yer brother's under a box?" Balancing neatly, he lifts the edge of the box with the toe of his boot, then flips it off JP. "Why shouldn't he smirk," he answers JP, tone halfway between annoyed and resigned. "You're ridiculous. You oughta get smirked at."
Severin touches his nose and points at Elmo, indicating that the man has the right of it. "My guess," he says to Elmo, "Is that someone was tryin' to lure him, an' they figured out the right bait, an' now that he's good'n'caught, he's stayin' that way." He shows no sign of helping his brother, but instead pushes himself up onto the counter to sit there with boots dangling.
JP pointed the bottle vaguely brother-wardly. "Bein correct do not suit you Louis Bonaventure. Do not suit you a'tall." The bottle was set back on the ground. There was a sigh in his chest as he lay under the box with his thoughts. A muffle came from the Boxaventure brother and with his free hand propped it up on one side an inch more, "Got the stuff you needed there on the table, Sparkplug."
Elmo lets the box back down on JP. "Thanks, pal," he says, mouth quirking. Not quite a smile. Maybe he's a little jealous of whoever was clever enough to bait a Looney Tunes style trap with beer for JP. Why didn't he think of that? Well, JP's happy in his box. He can stay there. "Who's settin' traps for you? Do I wanna know?" He goes to the table, picks up the wire and extension cable, pressing the pad of his thumb to the prongs of the cable.
Severin continues to sit on the countertop, drinking his beer and idly swinging his legs back and forth, watching the pair of them with a slight shake of his head. "Good thing I'm not Louis, then, eh?" He snickers when Elmo drops the box back down on him and then says, "We need better locks."
JP crossed one ankle over the other. "Or a better cat. I swear we get one security cat and he jes wander off an' anyone come on in here. Fuck it. We blame the possum." He pointed ther- no… there? Bah. "Sid, I blame you mon ami. I blamin' you. But maybe yeah. You know what kinda crazy yous gotta be t'break into someone else's apartment?" He paused to let that sink in. "Sorry. I didn't mean f'that t'sound like a question."
Elmo snorts, so obviously Not Replying that it's a reply in itself. That doesn't stop him from muttering several uncomplimentary Yiddish phrases under his breath. He stuffs wiring and cable into the tool pouches.
JP moved around inside his box; his new fortress of ridiculousness. He was quiet for a while before he commented to the guys, "This box needs a fridge." There was a pause and finally, finally, he sat up murmuring something crawling to his feet, "An' a restroom." He eyed Elmo carefully, slid a curious look to Sev. Back again and tentatively pocked Elmo before tapping him on the shoulder twice to see if he was grounded or not. When that was deemed safe or relatively static free enough he got a pat on the back. ""The bag is safe but careful. The garage may be weaponized now." He looked to Sev chagrined, "You enjoyin someone gettin the drop on us way too much, man." That said he plodded to teh john and took the moment to address concerns and wash his face.
Severin doesn't seem to have any real particular opinions on the entire thing. He seems idly amused, but doesn't seem about to give anything away if he knows anything about the happenings which lead to the beer trap being laid. And so with that, he hops down off the counter and says, "I suppose I can go check around and see if anything's going to turn you blue down there." And with that, he turns into a bird and flies off into the garage, presumably to booby-trap check it
"I'll be sure not to grab any beers under any boxes," Elmo says, sour as a good pickle. He drags the ladder out, sets it up against one of the framed walls. Fishing the wiring needs to be done. He doesn't have time for JP's nonsense. More to the point, the nonsense JP is indulging in with some unknown party. Nope. Fishing.