Quoted By:
>Hey Ellery! Hey Ellery! Hey Ellery! Hey—
You press your face against the cage bars. "That's <span class="mu-i">rude.</span> A good host ought to offer his guest a drink, too, if he—"
"You're not my guest," Ellery says, and slurps extra-loud.
"Yes I <span class="mu-i">am.</span> You let me in here, obviously, so—"
"You—" He has to take a moment to formulate a sentence. "You <span class="mu-i">busted</span> in here, you mean? You did some— some— some <span class="mu-i">gullshit,</span> you busted in, and I intercepted. I don't see where the fuck you get 'guest' from that?"
You were just hoping for a free drink, though knowing him it'd probably be disgusting. "You don't understand etiquette at all, but okay. What are you talking about, 'intercepted'? I didn't <span class="mu-i">bust</span> in, I— I sacredly communed with you, so I don't see how 'intercepting' factors in, Ellery. How does that even work?"
"What do you mean, <span class="mu-i">how?</span> I could feel you busting in, and I—" He sloshes his drink around. "I— you know— I stopped it."
You nod sagely. "How?"
"Does it <span class="mu-i">matter?</span> I— clearly it <span class="mu-i">worked,</span> so—"
It doesn't matter that much: you just want to make him sweat. "Yeah, but how did it work? Specifically?"
"I— I— I don't really— that's not really my <span class="mu-i">style,</span> alright? The 'hows,' and the— that's for other people. That's for Nettie, and Eloise, and whoever. <span class="mu-i">I'm</span> street-smart, you know, I go with my— go with my gut, and I— it all works out for me. And clearly it <span class="mu-i">has</span> worked out for me, since you're intercepted, so— yeah." He adjusts his sunglasses. "Piss off."
If only you had a little notepad, so you could scribble down <span class="mu-i">Ellery — Mad he doesn't know how his stuff works</span> all smug-like. Woe! You will settle for needling him a little further. "Is the weird sun stuff all <span class="mu-i">gut</span> too?"
"There is no sun stuff," Ellery says. "What do you— do you think I'm hiding something about it?"
"No," you say convincingly.
"Okay, well—" He tilts his head back. "I'm <span class="mu-i">not.</span> I don't know anything about it. It has nothing to do with anything. It's been happening for <span class="mu-i">years</span> before any of this horseshit, Charlotte, way before Maddie and I were— I mean, what do you want me to tell you? I know what it means? I don't know what it means. Now piss <span class="mu-i">off.</span>"
You rattle the bars of the cage in response. He tilts his chin back, sets his drink down, and— and— oh. He's putting earplugs in. "Ellery! Ellery? Ellery, that's not <span class="mu-i">fair,</span> that's—" No reaction. "Come on!"
Despairing, you fall back, cross your arms, and sit upon the spongy floor. Waking up? Nonsense. Ridiculous. You do not get <span class="mu-i">defeated</span> by the likes of Ellery, especially when he openly admits(!!!) to being dumb and ignorant. Nay! You shall free yourself lickety-split, and wave The Sword in his face, and—
(1/2)
