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[dishonests]

☏ call. ≔ text. 💻 video. ✘ action.

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[prettier]

[dishonests]

What in the hell are those?

[prettier]

They're the local choir.

[dishonests]

They look tormented. You best not have let them on the furniture. [ such as it is... ]

[prettier]

Course not. Then where would I put the reindeer.

[dishonests]

Why are there reindeer, now? [ this conversation makes no sense. ]

[prettier]

Because I hadn't used up all the eyes.

[dishonests]

Why have they got red noses?

[ full disclosure: he doesn't know much about reindeer. but he's pretty sure they're not supposed to have red noses. ]

[prettier]

...Don't know. Because it matches Santa's coat?

[Did they... have Santa in your time, Cass?]

[dishonests]

[ ...no. not the jolly, round, red-suit-wearing kind, anyway. ]

You're making less sense than usual, Freddie.

[prettier]

Jesus, haven't you heard of Santa? He's like, the whole point of Christmas.

There's a song, about the red nose thing. I'll look it up for you if you're back later, I'm thinking of making a playlist of shit festive music, since we don't get it in the shops here. It's not really December if you're not ready to murder Bing Crosby.

[dishonests]

That's not how I learned it. Can't say as I've ever heard of this Santa fellow. What does he do, besides wear a red suit?

I'll be having much to learn, from the sound of it. Christmas as I know it be a time for mummery and minced pies, and the Advent, if you wish to be Puritanical about it.

[prettier]

He watches you sleep and sticks his hands in your stockings. But not if you've been naughty.

Mince pies are shit, but I suppose we'll have them. And we had advent for a bit but I think Jem ate the whole thing and destroyed the evidence on about the third. I'm not being your mummy, and I'm definitely not being puritanical.

[dishonests]

[ this is getting more, rather than less, confusing. ] Christmas has changed much since my time.

Advent isn't something you eat, it's something you do. Never saw the point in it, myself.

[prettier]

It is something you can eat. It's literally chocolate every day until Christmas Eve, when the only thing you're going to eat for the next three days anyway is chocolate, crisps and turkey so you don't need the advent stuff anymore.

Speaking of eating, you're coming to the Frasers?

[dishonests]

Now, did the Puritans do Advent like that, I might've saw the point.

I reckon I'll be there, aye. I've heard tell you'll be overseeing the food.

[prettier]

I did last year. We had it at Cupids, last year. Load of puritans in a gay bar.

And I'll be needing a few hands on deck, so you can help get things ready if you're around Christmas Eve.


...John'll be over, too.

[dishonests]

I can't imagine where else I'd be. Suppose I can spare a hand, even two. For a price.


Will he, now? All the better. I always enjoy the good doctor's company.

[prettier]

Is the price something other than free food and brilliant company? I could struggle.

And yeah, well. You haven't had the chance to enjoy too much of it so far. And it's Christmas, so. Anyway, he'll be in my room.

[dishonests]

Not a bad price. I could be persuaded.

Well, I dare say I've enjoyed what I've had. [ just give him a couple minutes to process. ] But of course he will. I can't think of another place he would be.

[prettier]

That's an easy deal, from a pirate.

Right. So, just letting you know. Try not to leave your pants on the floor. Jem's brother's probably dropping by, too.

[dishonests]

You might say I'm in a charitable mood. It's Christmas, after all.

Where am I meant to leave them, then?

[prettier]

As long as it's not a puritanical one.

You have got a room of your own. It's that one on the left of the corridor, gathering dust.

[dishonests]

Christ, no. Banish the thought.

Oh, that's right. [ as if he'd forgotten. ] I'll be reacquainting myself with it on Christmas Eve, as I guess.

[prettier]

I guess. Or Friday.