Yeah, guys like him were ‘In Injia’s sunny clime, where I used to spend my time, a-servin’ of her Majesty the queen…’ they MADE that Empire possible. Dress for dinner.
Absurd.
“Dress for dinner” makes a lot of sense when you’re trying to avoid laundering too much, and so you wear your clothes only for a few hours at a time so the top layers don’t need it much. Obviously only the rich had the luxury of time to keep changing clothes, but there was a little practicality in there.
“Good Morning, Doctor,” HT said. He tried, desperately, to hide the husky purr from his voice. Maybe Tip would think he just woke up.
No one could know. He’d lose all credibility. The stakes were too high!
“You again,” Tip said. Rattled by the sexy purrs (writing this doesn’t make a furry! – Marcie), and trying to hide his manful, true feelings, he blurted breathily: “You know full well I slept in the mud, in a ruin, surrounded by howling plant beasts!” …and you weren’t there! he cried, inside his head.
Afraid his desperation showed, Tip added, hurriedly: “Not that I got any sleep–” because I was thinking of you! “–agonizing over this crisis.”
As one, he and HT looked away from eachother. Took a breath. Surely he hadn’t spoken aloud?
“And yet, you managed to change into yet another outfit,” growled HT. How had he missed THAT? His lids lowered as he looked deeply into Tip’s eyes…
Tip tried to play it cool: “SOMEONE has to remain decent!”
Would HT notice the fuzziness of his scarf? He touched it, self-consciously.
Dun-dun-duuuunnnnn!
Not as fun as the other one, but I hope this was similarly terri-bad enough to bring smiles to folks’ day. š
I’d desperately wanted to include a line with Tip ‘dressing HT with his eyes–perhaps Chanel??’ but could not make it fit.
Iām so tired, my worries will not cease.
Iām so tired, thereās all those howling beasts.
I may have changed my outfit, but that gave me no peace.
No, no, no.
Iām so tired, I spent the night in mud.
Iām so tired, between us thereās bad blood.
I wonder what youāre up to, ācause I know what you can do.
You say what you do is right.
But as Swamp-guy, youāve started a blight.
You know I canāt sleep, because of your reign.
You know I will speak, you make me insane
I know youāll covet everything Iāve got,
For a little piece of mine.
Iām so tired, Iāll do what I can do.
Although Iām so tired, Iāll do it for the rest of you.
And praise the Mother Cypress,
Though weāve bidden her adieu.
You say what you do is right.
But as Swamp-guy, youāve started a blight.
You know I canāt sleep, because of your reign.
You know I will speak, you make me insane
I know youāll covet everything Iāve got,
For a little piece of mine.
I know youāll covet everything Iāve got,
For a little piece of mine.
I know youāll covet everything Iāve got,
For a little piece of mine.
(H. T., H. T., H. T., how about another one?)
—from “I’m So Tired,” John Lennon and Paul McCartney.
Well, as long as Tip can change outfits at a whim, we can be sure that he is not a plant. That kind of skill cannot be replicated, only learned over many long years.
He’s very Victorian, in his way.
Yeah, guys like him were ‘In Injia’s sunny clime, where I used to spend my time, a-servin’ of her Majesty the queen…’ they MADE that Empire possible. Dress for dinner.
Absurd.
“Dress for dinner” makes a lot of sense when you’re trying to avoid laundering too much, and so you wear your clothes only for a few hours at a time so the top layers don’t need it much. Obviously only the rich had the luxury of time to keep changing clothes, but there was a little practicality in there.
I bought a suit about three and a half years ago. I wore it once.
I have a suit that I wear maybe once a year. I would actually enjoy dressing for dinner if I were in an environment where it was expected.
How much would you pay for that treatment at the spa?
Take my check? Post-dated a year or two?
Tip’s sang froid is cooler than cat’s.
From Marcie’s Very Secret Diary:
“Good Morning, Doctor,” HT said. He tried, desperately, to hide the husky purr from his voice. Maybe Tip would think he just woke up.
No one could know. He’d lose all credibility. The stakes were too high!
“You again,” Tip said. Rattled by the sexy purrs (writing this doesn’t make a furry! – Marcie), and trying to hide his manful, true feelings, he blurted breathily: “You know full well I slept in the mud, in a ruin, surrounded by howling plant beasts!” …and you weren’t there! he cried, inside his head.
Afraid his desperation showed, Tip added, hurriedly: “Not that I got any sleep–” because I was thinking of you! “–agonizing over this crisis.”
As one, he and HT looked away from eachother. Took a breath. Surely he hadn’t spoken aloud?
“And yet, you managed to change into yet another outfit,” growled HT. How had he missed THAT? His lids lowered as he looked deeply into Tip’s eyes…
Tip tried to play it cool: “SOMEONE has to remain decent!”
Would HT notice the fuzziness of his scarf? He touched it, self-consciously.
Dun-dun-duuuunnnnn!
Not as fun as the other one, but I hope this was similarly terri-bad enough to bring smiles to folks’ day. š
I’d desperately wanted to include a line with Tip ‘dressing HT with his eyes–perhaps Chanel??’ but could not make it fit.
*noms popcorn* š
[the rest of the notebook page is filled with tiny hearts and a hastily scribbled over image of Tip and HT doing smoochies; Chris has a new beard]
Good Lord! That’s… certainly one way to write a fanfic!
Brava, good captain, bra-va!
Tipās such a Wimsey Princess. (Except for that āPurity Testā.)
An outfit off which he somehow managed to keep the aforementioned mud.
He has a wardrobe from the same company as Handsome Stranger’s.
Iām so tired, my worries will not cease.
Iām so tired, thereās all those howling beasts.
I may have changed my outfit, but that gave me no peace.
No, no, no.
Iām so tired, I spent the night in mud.
Iām so tired, between us thereās bad blood.
I wonder what youāre up to, ācause I know what you can do.
You say what you do is right.
But as Swamp-guy, youāve started a blight.
You know I canāt sleep, because of your reign.
You know I will speak, you make me insane
I know youāll covet everything Iāve got,
For a little piece of mine.
Iām so tired, Iāll do what I can do.
Although Iām so tired, Iāll do it for the rest of you.
And praise the Mother Cypress,
Though weāve bidden her adieu.
You say what you do is right.
But as Swamp-guy, youāve started a blight.
You know I canāt sleep, because of your reign.
You know I will speak, you make me insane
I know youāll covet everything Iāve got,
For a little piece of mine.
I know youāll covet everything Iāve got,
For a little piece of mine.
I know youāll covet everything Iāve got,
For a little piece of mine.
(H. T., H. T., H. T., how about another one?)
—from “I’m So Tired,” John Lennon and Paul McCartney.
Bravo!
I envy Tip’s fashion sense and powers.
By the waymeet…how can Tip mention mud and not expect us to have a flashback to when he and Konstantin toplessly-wrestled in mud?
… and of course, just a few comics later, we see…
Y’know, Clifton, even if you’re just giving away something that happens only a few strips later, it’s still a spoiler.
I have a feeling that Tip can wield that scarf as a bolo, a garrote, a whip and numerous other weapons…
Or is it concealing the absence of his explosive collar, hidden in an inner pocket to ricochet into action like Captain America’s shield?
Well, as long as Tip can change outfits at a whim, we can be sure that he is not a plant. That kind of skill cannot be replicated, only learned over many long years.
I also want to note his hair now looks like Sweetheart’s when she was piloting the drone body.
Unless a plant can produce a new outfit from its own organic material.
dangit, you made me go back and look at his previous previous outfit… and it’s the same one! http://skin-horse.com/comic/at-the-next/
It’s similar, but not the same. The coat is the same style but a different color, he didn’t have a scarf before and he doesn’t have a hat now.