(no subject)
Who: Fuller, Dylan and Alma
What: The flyer for the Horsemen's newest show is delivered to the FBI building in Las Vegas. Hilarity ensues.
Fuller: *when the mail came around, he was attempting to dig himself out of a pile of paperwork and barely paid attention to whatever the agent told him about the package actually having Agent Rhodes's name on it, but Agent Rhodes was on the phone, so he was just going to leave it with Agent Fuller, if that was okay. he held a hand out for the tube, glancing briefly at the return address on the side - or where the return address should have been. instead of an actual address, there was a symbol he had gotten far too familiar with far too quickly, and the files on his desk immediately lost his interest* Ah, crap. *an instant later, he's up from his own desk, heading for Dylan's office, and he barely knocks before he opens the door* You're not going to believe this.
onebehind: *despite the fact that he knew a package from the Horsemen would be coming any day now -- or at least a flyer, as Jack promised -- he really didn't connect mail call with that or he would have finished his phone call and actually taken his package. as it was, though, yeah, he waved the agent off when he started to come in the door, set up a meeting with the guy he was on the phone with, and went back to the report he was going over beforehand. all that said, and despite the fact that he promised Jack he'd take video of his reaction, he actually doesn't have a camera set up. all he has is this clusterfuck of a case in his lap* If it's anything about this shit -- *he gestures to the report as he looks up* -- I think I've had it up to here with it for today.
Fuller: *there's apology on his face as he holds the tube out to him. it might not be the same headache Dylan's currently dealing with, but it's still definitely a headache* I think I've got the cherry for the top.
onebehind: *he takes it from him, glancing between Fuller and the tube and back again* What the hell is -- *it's then that he notes the mark on the side* -- oh, sonovabitch. *his lips twitch, as if he's fighting a sneer -- in actuality, he's fighting a smile* Anyone get a good look at whoever dropped this off?
Fuller: *shakes his head a little* I came to you first. Mail dropped it off five minutes ago.
onebehind: *he looks back down at the tube* I'd ask you to have someone take a look at it to make sure it's not rigged, but that wasn't their MO, as far as the shit they pulled went. *still he sets it down on top of his paperwork gingerly, drops his hands in his lap, and looks up at him* What do you think? *and he may or may not be reaching for his phone while Fuller's attention is presumably on his mail again*
Fuller: The closest they came to actually hurting anyone was in New York. *between the fight in the apartment and the following car chase* I'd expect flowers or rubber snakes to pop out of that before I'd expect a bomb.
onebehind: *snorts, genuinely amused* Yeah, I was thinking snakes, too. *thumbs his phone on to record video -- all it'll be getting his is pocket, but it should pick up the audio, too -- and slides it back into his pocket just as casually. breathes out a heavy sigh, reaches up to rub at the bridge of his nose, and then goes for the tube, half-cringing*
Fuller: *cringes, too, a little despite himself as he waits for Dylan to open it*
onebehind: *points the tube away from the both of them, just in case, and pops the lid off ... and it turns out that was probably for the best, considering the flowers that burst out of it. he jumps a little, huffs out a sigh, shaking his head, and then practically growls* Assholes. *and that said, he reaches in to retrieve whatever's in there beyond the flowers*
Fuller: *jumps, too, shaking his head as he moves closer to Dylan's desk, pulling one of the chairs closer to take a seat* What've we got?
onebehind: *a poster, it seems, though he doesn't say that. he just pulls it out of the tube and flattens it out on the desk, using a stapler and a baseball paperweight he has to hold down the edges closest to Fuller. he rests his arm across the edge on his side of the desk so it doesn't curl up and looks down at it, studying -- or, more accurately, admiring it, though he keeps that much off of his face. it's a good poster. he imagines, later, once they've "brought him back", Daniel will have something new printed, something with Jack on it, too, but for now, it's just Daniel, Merritt, and Henley, doing their poses from their individual promo shots, an empty table, done up in shades of steampunk, visble behind them and between the gaps, however small, between them, and fading into the matte black that is the background. their logo, in gold, is at their feet, the name of the show printed under that, along with dates and the theatre name* This is ... *bait, according to the look on his face, but bait he's going to fall for*
Fuller: *gets up again as Dylan spreads the poster out, to help him weigh it down and to look at it. nods a little to what Dylan isn't saying, and a long moment later....* So are you telling Evans, or should I?
onebehind: *as if he feels Fuller is judging him ... * Someone's gotta go keep an eye on these guys to make sure they don't screw with anyone else. We nailed their boss -- *Bradley* -- but that doesn't mean they're gonna stop. *and no, that's not an answer, but he felt it needed to be said*
Fuller: *he's actually not. they just came close enough to getting fired before - he's pretty sure the only reason they weren't both carrying all their things out in cardboard boxes is because their records were spotless and full of closed cases before this one. Dylan's a good agent, and he, personally, loves this job and can't afford to lose it* You know I'm with you. I just want to be careful.
onebehind: Yeah. Yeah, I get that. *both what he said and what he didn't, and that latter bit is enough to derail him a little and in honesty. if Fuller knew about him, was one of them, had something beyond this place to look forward to, to make a dime, he probably wouldn't bat an eyelash, but ... but he's a guy with a wife and kids, and as much as he wants to play cops and robbers with the Horsemen, this is it. this is Fuller's life and he doesn't want to cost him that. wets his lips with his tongue and then breathes out a sigh* Look, Mike, if you don't wanna get involved in this, considering what a joke it was last time ... *he wouldn't blame him*
Fuller: *and not that he doesn't appreciate that, but.* Yeah, no, you're not leaving me with the Hermann case while you go chase rabbits.
onebehind: *he breathes out a little sigh of a laugh. even he's not sure if it's honestly genuine or not* Can't blame a guy for trying. *a beat and then more seriously* I'll talk to Evans about it. Hell, for all we know, he might be the first in line to get on board. *considering the fact that they screwed with him, too*
Fuller: Or he'll say we're crazy for going after them again. *a beat* What about your friend from Interpol? *he doesn't know if they're still comparing notes, but he does know Dylan was a bigger fan when they parted ways than when they met*
onebehind: *reaches up to scrub a hand over his jaw, seemingly idly. this is him hiding a smile* I should probably let her know. If we're not taking it on, they might want to. And even if we are ... *he shrugs*
Fuller: *finishing that...* They might want to send someone over again.
onebehind: *nods* Considering they made them look like assholes, too? Yeah. *though, he should probably give Alma the same out he gave Fuller. he knows she wouldn't mind playing with the Horsemen, either, but ... again with law enforcement actually being her life*
Fuller: *nods and then looks back down at the poster, chuckling a little to himself* I don't know if I should be surprised or not. *half of him thought they'd never heard from the Horsemen again after Five Points; another half knew it was just a matter of time*
onebehind: *glances down at the poster, too* They're ... *he pauses, searching for a good word for it. seems to give up after a second or two* ... entertainers, addicts, whatever. They've got a taste for this and they got away with it, give or take. They're not just gonna give it up. *long story short, he's apparently not really surprised*
Fuller: *and he's not going to argue with that, considering the proof is literally spread out on Dylan's desk*
onebehind: *yes. yes, it is. but at any rate, he breathes out a sigh, rubbing at his eyes again, and then glances towards the door as if he's debating going to the potential excecution now or later* Sorry. These guys are just kinda ... under my skin.
Fuller: *not unkindly* I'd say I noticed, but I think the entire office noticed. *he studies him for a moment, before...* What is it about these assholes? I've seen you get invested before, but... *this is a different level*
onebehind: *he snorts at the commentary but doesn't say anything to it. yeah, he knows it's a little obvious he's invested* You mean beyond the fact that they are assholes? I mean, Christ, Mike, you saw the tapes. You were there. Hell, one of them screwed with you. *he pauses, curling his hands into fists on the desk, and looks down at them. it's a show of anger, seemingly unconscious, but it's also to keep Fuller from picking up on the fact that, even though he keeps it off of his face, his eyes are laughing. he loves you, Fuller, really he does -- he's probably the closest thing to an actual friend he has here -- but ... the Tranny Tuesday thing was hilarious. and more for the "Wow, you sure are a kinky sonovabitch and I might be a little proud for some bizarre reason" factor than the "WTF dress?" factor. anyway, after a moment and a deep breath, he looks back up* They're -- we see guys like them every day. Guys who are arrogant, who pick up on your weaknesses and use 'em to kick you when you're down. People like that go away -- deserve to go away -- but these guys ... *he shakes his head* ... they get a free pass because they're performers and everyone suddenly becomes a six-year-old around them. And it's not ... *he pauses, shakes his head and steels his jaw. and very, very seriously, the act, the character slipping as he projects his feelings for Bradley and Tressler and all of it on to the Horsemen* People like them destroy lives and get away with it and no one deserves the right to hurt innocent people like that. No one. I don't care who you are. *a long pause follows and then a little less heatedly* And yeah, I get that none of the people they hurt were exactly innocent, but ... it's only a matter of time.
Fuller: *can't help but roll his eyes at the reminder of what Merritt said, though he manages to not look too embarrassed, this time, likely helped by the fact that he's paying attention to the rest of what Dylan says. he just nods, when he finishes* They'll slip eventually. You know as well as I do people like them always do.
onebehind: *he nods once, sharply* That's what I'm counting on. Then I'm gonna nail those assholes to the wall.
Fuller: I'm with you, again, but... Let's go for not dropping the hammer on our foot in the process.
onebehind: *snorts and mutters* Nice way of putting it. *a pause and then louder* But yeah. I'm not looking for a repeat of what happened last time anymore than you are. We'll be careful, take it slower, whatever. *which works for him because he'll need whatever leeway he gets from taking it slower to make sure the Horsemen don't actually get arrested*
Fuller: *nods* I can live with that.
onebehind: Yeah, I figured. *glances down at the poster again, sighing, and reaches to pull the weights off of it* Well, better get this over with, then I can call le Interpol. *yes, Merritt, he stole your phrase*
Fuller: Want me to tag along or should I go get out the alcohol and glasses now? *and he's teasing*
onebehind: If we weren't on the clock ... *he'd be drinking to the fact that OMG HE GOT A POSTER IN THE MAIL. but anyway* It's up to you.
Fuller: I'll come make sure Evans doesn't actually throw something at you, first. *still teasing*
onebehind: Why? You wanna take a picture if he does? *he's also teasing ... and rolling up the poster as he gets to his feet*
Fuller: I've still got some empty spaces in my scrapbook.
onebehind: *snorts* ... remind me why I'm friends with you?
Fuller: Because we were assigned to be partners way longer ago than I care to think about considering it makes me feel old, and being friends was less awkward than sitting in the car silently drinking coffee? *clearly, when Dylan said he attracted smartasses, he really wasn't lying*
onebehind: *no, he really wasn't. but at any rate, with a grin and as he heads for the door* I should've stuck to the coffee.
Fuller: *and he'll just laugh as he follows* Probably.
onebehind: *shoots him a grin over his shoulder and moves for Evans' office. when he turns again, it's outside of said office, and his humor is gone* You sure you actually wanna hang around for this, your scrapbooking shit aside?
Fuller: You want to face the boss yourself? *Dylan's his partner, he's got his back. but if he'd rather Fuller went elsewhere, he can do that, too*
onebehind: *he wets his lips with his tongue, glances at the door and then back at Fuller* One of us should probably come out of this not looking completely batshit. *so he'll talk to Evans on his own*
Fuller: *nods* I'll round up the bottles, then. *starts to turn away, but turns back, taking a few steps backwards* Remember, if things get too bad, you can always have your own symphonic performance. *grins a little. doesn't even know if that would work again, but for all the Horsemen were pains in their asses, that was hysterical*
onebehind: *breathes out a sigh of a laugh* I'll keep my violin handy.
Fuller: *laughs a little, too, and then turns away, heading back down the hall*
onebehind: *all that said, he watches Fuller go, and then, once he's out of line of sight, breathes out a sigh and knocks on Evans' door before letting himself in. outwardly, it doesn't go well -- to the point where Evans practically throws him out of his office at the end of it and holds onto the poster -- but on another level, he steps out of the office knowing that, as soon as the first show's over, he'll get a call telling him to start sniffing around. he deserves an Oscar and he's damn well making sure Merritt's in the room when he plays that part back for the Horsemen so he can admire how awesome that conversation really was. but at any rate, he looks properly frustrated as he stamps back to his office. if Fuller isn't waiting for him, he'll close the door and call Alma*
Fuller: *went back to his desk to try and wrap up a few things, since he didn't know how long Dylan would be in with Evans. so no, he's not*
onebehind: *slams the door to his office only partially epically -- wants to make it clear that he just got shot down without drawing too much attention to himself -- and fishes his phone out of his pocket. mutters something along the lines of Sorry, kids, gotta call the missus at it, turns the recording off, and sits down at his desk to get the number for Interpol's offices in France out of his Roladex. he could probably just call her up directly, but he needs to make this look offical. anyway, he checks the time, just to make sure she'll actually be there, and then dials, waiting with feigned impatience for them to put him through*
the_star: *it's not long after he finally gets past the operator that it's her phone ringing, and she sounds faintly distracted when she picks up, though she doesn't let it ring long* Agent Dray, allĂ´.
onebehind: *it's a miracle he manages to keep the smile off of his face. it really is* Yeah, hi, this is Special Agent Rhodes with the FBI.
the_star: *and the difference in her voice is immediate - she is smiling, even if she doesn't miss how he introduced himself and the significance* Agent Rhodes. It's nice to hear from you.
onebehind: You might change your mind about that here in a second. *a beat* A promotional poster from those -- *those assholes* -- from the Four Horsemen ended up on my desk earlier.
the_star: *and she has the act, now, too* The Three Horsemen, you mean. *and without waiting for him to respond to that* I assume you're reopening your investigation, then?
onebehind: *he makes a small, agreeing noise at her correction, all the same -- no more than a grunt, really -- and then breathes out a sigh, his frustration obvious. he hopes Alma realizes it's part of the act, that he's got all of this under control, but if not ... well, he'll fill her in later, the next time he swings by or when she shows up Stateside. whichever* Not at this time, no. *a beat* I figured I'd give you a heads up all the same, though.
the_star: *she figures it's part of the act, yes, considering she would have expected him to call her and not the agency or just stop by if it wasn't* You're not. *like she's just confirming that, not at all like she's surprised. that may or may not be acting, too, on her part* Well, I appreciate you letting me know. I'll have to take it to my bosses.
onebehind: *he pauses, reaching up to thumb at the corners of his eyes, and then wryly* Good luck with that.
the_star: *can't quite manage to hold in a laugh, at that, considering she can probably guess how his meeting with his boss went* Thank you.
onebehind: *breathes out a sigh of a laugh of his own and as much as he tries to make it dry, make it lack humor, it doesn't really work as well as he's hoping* You're welcome. *and another pause* And, uh ... that's all I called for, actually.
the_star: I'll let you get back to work, then. *a beat* I'm sure we'll be in touch again.
onebehind: *he nods, even if he knows she can't see it* If it pans out -- *her talking to her boss* -- let me know and I'll see if I can't get you anything we might have had on them. *and that Interpol didn't already have. but at any rate* Nice talking to you again, Agent Dray.
the_star: I will. *she'll let him know either way, really, but anyway.* And you, Agent Rhodes.
onebehind: *he ... really doesn't want to hang up, but ... acting. makes a small, affirmative noise in lieu of saying goodbye again and then hangs up. drops his phone back to his desk once that's done*
Fuller: *a minute or two after Dylan hangs up with Alma, there's another faint knock at the door before he pushes it open again to stick his head in* So?
onebehind: *he grimaces* So, I think I'm gonna need that drink after all.
Fuller: *makes a face and comes the rest of the way into the office* Didn't go well, huh.
onebehind: Yeah, no, not so much. Evans practically threw me out of his office. *and took his poster. he hopes there are a couple of extras floating around the suite somewhere. he wanted to frame that and hang it in the warehouse. but at any rate, after a lengthy pause, in which he stares at his phone* ... well, whatever. Not my problem, now.
Fuller: Lucky you. *a long pause of his own before... Sorry, Dylan. *the case was a pain in the ass and nearly got them both fired and he's not sure Dylan didn't get over-invested in it all, but the fact remains that the case was important to Dylan, and so, he's sorry*
onebehind: *he nudges the phone further away from him and then looks up, shrugging* It's probably for the best, considering what a clusterfuck that was. Not that this shit is much better -- *he gestures to the case still open on his desk* -- but ...
Fuller: At least no one's got a magic wand on this one.
onebehind: *snorts* Considering what happened, like, right after someone said magic wand? *he got tackled* Yeah, I'm not complaining.
Fuller: Yeah, I didn't think you would.
onebehind: *offers him a thin, wry smile and then sighs* ... speaking of, I should probably get back to slogging through this bullshit. *not that he's kicking him out, but ... *
Fuller: Same. *turns back to the door* Throw something if you need me.
onebehind: *laughs a little, genuinely* I'd say same, but I pass on getting a face full of whatever.
Fuller: *turns around again, to walk backwards the rest of the way out of the office, waving a hand at the cardboard tube and flowers scattered across the floor* Just load up the flower cannon again.
onebehind: *and that gets another laugh out of him* Get out of my office, asshole. *never mind the fact that he's already on his way out*
Fuller: *shoots him another grin before he turns around to walk properly again before he runs into someone, pulling the door closed behind him*
onebehind: *shakes his head, and once the door is closed, wets his lips with his tongue, repockets his phone and goes back to work. he'll share his reaction with the Horsemen when he sees them next. sending it to them now, acronyms or not, would probably be a bad idea*
What: The flyer for the Horsemen's newest show is delivered to the FBI building in Las Vegas. Hilarity ensues.
Fuller: *when the mail came around, he was attempting to dig himself out of a pile of paperwork and barely paid attention to whatever the agent told him about the package actually having Agent Rhodes's name on it, but Agent Rhodes was on the phone, so he was just going to leave it with Agent Fuller, if that was okay. he held a hand out for the tube, glancing briefly at the return address on the side - or where the return address should have been. instead of an actual address, there was a symbol he had gotten far too familiar with far too quickly, and the files on his desk immediately lost his interest* Ah, crap. *an instant later, he's up from his own desk, heading for Dylan's office, and he barely knocks before he opens the door* You're not going to believe this.
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Fuller: *there's apology on his face as he holds the tube out to him. it might not be the same headache Dylan's currently dealing with, but it's still definitely a headache* I think I've got the cherry for the top.
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Fuller: *shakes his head a little* I came to you first. Mail dropped it off five minutes ago.
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Fuller: The closest they came to actually hurting anyone was in New York. *between the fight in the apartment and the following car chase* I'd expect flowers or rubber snakes to pop out of that before I'd expect a bomb.
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Fuller: *cringes, too, a little despite himself as he waits for Dylan to open it*
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Fuller: *jumps, too, shaking his head as he moves closer to Dylan's desk, pulling one of the chairs closer to take a seat* What've we got?
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Fuller: *gets up again as Dylan spreads the poster out, to help him weigh it down and to look at it. nods a little to what Dylan isn't saying, and a long moment later....* So are you telling Evans, or should I?
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Fuller: *he's actually not. they just came close enough to getting fired before - he's pretty sure the only reason they weren't both carrying all their things out in cardboard boxes is because their records were spotless and full of closed cases before this one. Dylan's a good agent, and he, personally, loves this job and can't afford to lose it* You know I'm with you. I just want to be careful.
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Fuller: *and not that he doesn't appreciate that, but.* Yeah, no, you're not leaving me with the Hermann case while you go chase rabbits.
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Fuller: Or he'll say we're crazy for going after them again. *a beat* What about your friend from Interpol? *he doesn't know if they're still comparing notes, but he does know Dylan was a bigger fan when they parted ways than when they met*
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Fuller: *finishing that...* They might want to send someone over again.
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Fuller: *nods and then looks back down at the poster, chuckling a little to himself* I don't know if I should be surprised or not. *half of him thought they'd never heard from the Horsemen again after Five Points; another half knew it was just a matter of time*
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Fuller: *and he's not going to argue with that, considering the proof is literally spread out on Dylan's desk*
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Fuller: *not unkindly* I'd say I noticed, but I think the entire office noticed. *he studies him for a moment, before...* What is it about these assholes? I've seen you get invested before, but... *this is a different level*
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Fuller: *can't help but roll his eyes at the reminder of what Merritt said, though he manages to not look too embarrassed, this time, likely helped by the fact that he's paying attention to the rest of what Dylan says. he just nods, when he finishes* They'll slip eventually. You know as well as I do people like them always do.
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Fuller: I'm with you, again, but... Let's go for not dropping the hammer on our foot in the process.
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Fuller: *nods* I can live with that.
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Fuller: Want me to tag along or should I go get out the alcohol and glasses now? *and he's teasing*
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Fuller: I'll come make sure Evans doesn't actually throw something at you, first. *still teasing*
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Fuller: I've still got some empty spaces in my scrapbook.
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Fuller: Because we were assigned to be partners way longer ago than I care to think about considering it makes me feel old, and being friends was less awkward than sitting in the car silently drinking coffee? *clearly, when Dylan said he attracted smartasses, he really wasn't lying*
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Fuller: *and he'll just laugh as he follows* Probably.
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Fuller: You want to face the boss yourself? *Dylan's his partner, he's got his back. but if he'd rather Fuller went elsewhere, he can do that, too*
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Fuller: *nods* I'll round up the bottles, then. *starts to turn away, but turns back, taking a few steps backwards* Remember, if things get too bad, you can always have your own symphonic performance. *grins a little. doesn't even know if that would work again, but for all the Horsemen were pains in their asses, that was hysterical*
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Fuller: *laughs a little, too, and then turns away, heading back down the hall*
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Fuller: *went back to his desk to try and wrap up a few things, since he didn't know how long Dylan would be in with Evans. so no, he's not*
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Fuller: *a minute or two after Dylan hangs up with Alma, there's another faint knock at the door before he pushes it open again to stick his head in* So?
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Fuller: *makes a face and comes the rest of the way into the office* Didn't go well, huh.
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Fuller: Lucky you. *a long pause of his own before... Sorry, Dylan. *the case was a pain in the ass and nearly got them both fired and he's not sure Dylan didn't get over-invested in it all, but the fact remains that the case was important to Dylan, and so, he's sorry*
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Fuller: At least no one's got a magic wand on this one.
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Fuller: Yeah, I didn't think you would.
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Fuller: Same. *turns back to the door* Throw something if you need me.
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Fuller: *turns around again, to walk backwards the rest of the way out of the office, waving a hand at the cardboard tube and flowers scattered across the floor* Just load up the flower cannon again.
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Fuller: *shoots him another grin before he turns around to walk properly again before he runs into someone, pulling the door closed behind him*
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