Saturday Night Live

SNL | Chapter 6

(not best edited)

Well, that clearly answered all the questions that were swirling in my head. Robert Downey Jr thought he was the character from The Judge. He thought it was twenty fourteen because that's the year the movie was filmed. It just didn't make any sense to how he could think he's Hank Palmer when he was clearly an actor. I mean, do you see where the confusion that was hanging in the balance. Oh, God. How was this going to be put into explanation?

I closed my eyes and chopped down on my bottom lip. Fletcher slid out his coat, draped it over the couch and whilst doing that, exhaled a very loud sigh. His night was done. He couldn't go out and see what he could find tonight. Not with a stomach full of a man who thought it was the year of two thousand and fourteen. How were you supposed to go get drunk and not unintentionally bring that up?

“Puppy, can I speak to you for a second in private?” Fletcher grabbed hold of my elbow as I went to him and he looked at Robert standing where he was, his hands still in his pockets and gazing around. “And I mean private. You're supposedly a lawyer. You know what that means, right?” Hank twitched a shoulder.

I elbowed roomie/agent in the gut and glared shaming eyes at him. He stood down but took us to the kitchen to be some ear shot away from Hank. He talked in a hushed tone. “I don't see this coming together, Puppy. I just...don't. I mean, come on—!”

“I know, I know,” I loud whispered to him, glancing towards the living room. “Me either, but what can we do? Wish him well and throw him out to the streets? We can't do that! He won't last without someone spotting him as Robert Downey Jr.”

“Puppy, that is Robert Downey Jr!” But when Fletcher really soaked into the ray of my eyes, he paused and looked crestfallen. “You aren't really falling into this,” He flashed the quotation fingers, "I'm Hank Palmer from Indiana", are you?“ I said nothing and didn't need to because my eyes were saying, "Well..." for me. ”Puppy!“

I rolled my eyes, groaned and walked to the cooler where I pulled the rectangle stained silver door back and reached inside for a bottle of water. Feeling the cold recyclable plastic against my palm, I scoffed at myself and shook my head. Wow. I could have easily gave Hank a bottled water instead of wetting his feet with my stupid clumsiness. How idiotic of me.

I closed the door with a swing of my arm, cocked back my hips as I turned around to lean against the door and twisted the cap to the bottle off. Fletcher was waiting for me to say something but I couldn't imagine me saying anything. I mean, I didn't know what to say. What did he expect me to say? That he was right? Surely he was, but I didn't know how to say it. Hank was Robert but Hank was Hank. There was no other way of saying it without it bring math problems I couldn't figure out gloating around my brain. I was already starting to feel a headache creep up at the back of my skull.

”I don't know what to say,“ I finally uttered before taking a few desperate gulps of water which waterfalled down my throat but rushed to my brain causing the temperature in my mind to drop a few degrees below zero. I clinged my eyes shut and gripped the fridgerater's handle bar. Fletcher made sound of annoyance with his throat.

”Don't use a bottled water to change the subject at hand, Puppy. It's insulting. We have no choice but to deal with this. Whether you like it or not—," He added in a mutter, “I can't believe I'm saying this—he's our problem now until I don't know. He goes back in the TV or...whatever. How are we supposed to school a guy who's mind's in the year of fourteen? That's too much to explain and we just can't go walking and touring him around to sight see new generation of things. We just can't. I don't know—”

“What to do,” I finished, sighing and bobbing my head. “You think I don't know either, Fletch? I'm literally brain storming a plan here.”

“I'm surprised you still can walk on your left and right foot. I mean, you cherish this guy and he's in our living room. I mean if that was SJP, I'd be in the ICU right now on life support. I mean, her eyes and blond hair just take your breath away.” Before he could go ranting on about his sex fantasies, I stopped him right there by planting my hands firmly on his cheeks. Fletch flinched.

“We don't have time wishing for the sex life you want to live. Our own SNL is there in the livingroom. And you don't think I want to tweet about this? Ugh! But I can't. This has to stay between us and Rob—Hank.”

“No, it's Robert. Say Robert. Don't get use to Hank. It's not healthy. By the way, the water is turning my cheek into a boner.”

“He doesn't like that.” I returned my hands to my sides.

“I don't care what he likes,” mentioned Fletcher in a small wicked tone. “I don't like that he's invaded our lives with...whatever happened with him coming into our lives. How did that happen anyway?”

Drowning my throat with more frezzing water, I went over the events that happened during the time he was gone. None of it made any sense whatsoever, my words not sounding sane at all. It sounded insane, matter of fact. Any doctor or someone either than Fletcher would refer me to some psychiatrist.

“...I don't know. He just came tossing out the TV like some...magical-science fiction-voodoo achievement. I didn't know if I was awake or not. I was still in zombie mode and feeling like my life was over from earlier today which I'm still mad at you about. Why did you—”

“Puppy...”

“Right. Stay on topic. So, well, yeah. That's what happened. I was rambling on and on while I was watching the stars. I said this and that, wind came blowing like some important verse was just spoken to Mother Teresa. I came back inside, closed the window a little bit, laid down after eating my second sundae. Fall asleep, woke up because something flew by my eye. I noticed the TV wasn't off or playing the movie anymore so I looked and the rest is standing...”

I extended my hand in the direction of the livingroom. Fletcher followed the lining of my gesture and again sighed, bended his arms and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. Doing that, he slid his hands up his face and met fingers with hair which he dug into and pulled back.

“Alright, here's what we do.” I glinted wondering eyes at him. Hank's voice came walking in from the livingroom before Fletcher could continue.

“Are you guys alright in there?”

“Yeah, yeah, Rob. We're fine. We're gonna need to buy more time. We'll let you know when we're done here. Why don't you make yourself comfortable and try to put those pieces on the floor back together? Maybe I can sell it on Offer Up for a decent price.” He said the last words under his breath, looking out the kitchen and saw Hank taking a seat on the couch but not knowing what he was doing since he only could see his rear view “Alright.” He turned back to me who was itching with wonder and wanted to slap him not only for being a shitty agent but for keeping me curious this long.

“What, Fletch?”

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'm updating for you guys but I may come back and re-edit some a little later. I hope you enjoyed what's written now. ♡

x Birdie