oh god oh god there is nothing jack wants to do more than get out of the piano--
Well no actually there is one thing Jack wants to do more than leave the piano and that is to not throw up in the piano. Cohen would probably like that even less.
Cohen smashing the keys just draws another horrible sound from Jack. Maybe with some refinement and tuning, it could be a functioning musical system, but uh, no.
Jack somehow rallies the strength and coordination to get his hands on the edge of the piano, with the next step to haul himself out of it. It goes... Well, it works in that Jack's out of the piano, but to get there he kind of... slowly squeezes out from under the lid and drops to the floor beside it, shoulder first, where he lays, moaning again.
Cohen will probably notice his sound isn't back to, er, perfection yet, because apparently Jack from six hours ago decided the piano wasn't comfortable enough without some lining. Which is probably and hopefully where Jack's sweater went. And his undershirt. And his left shoe. fuck?
He should probably get around to figuring out where he is and what's going on and how screwed he is -- but instead he just stays on the floor for a minute.
no subject
Well no actually there is one thing Jack wants to do more than leave the piano and that is to not throw up in the piano. Cohen would probably like that even less.
Cohen smashing the keys just draws another horrible sound from Jack. Maybe with some refinement and tuning, it could be a functioning musical system, but uh, no.
Jack somehow rallies the strength and coordination to get his hands on the edge of the piano, with the next step to haul himself out of it. It goes... Well, it works in that Jack's out of the piano, but to get there he kind of... slowly squeezes out from under the lid and drops to the floor beside it, shoulder first, where he lays, moaning again.
Cohen will probably notice his sound isn't back to, er, perfection yet, because apparently Jack from six hours ago decided the piano wasn't comfortable enough without some lining. Which is probably and hopefully where Jack's sweater went. And his undershirt. And his left shoe. fuck?
He should probably get around to figuring out where he is and what's going on and how screwed he is -- but instead he just stays on the floor for a minute.