texts, sexts, exts-etera

[imahologram]

for all your messages of questionable merit and 140 characters

Comments

[imahologram]

Right. How's Ben?

[She's concerned--there's no possible way he isn't.]

I hope not. I need their votes.

[consolo]

Fussy.

[ Kid had a set of lungs on him, but given who his parents were. ]

And I need you here so let's cross our fingers.

[imahologram]

Sing to him. He likes that.

[Meanwhile, her sigh can probably be heard a star system over. Han, please.]

Even if I do, the speech isn't til tomorrow. You're going to have to manage tonight.

[consolo]

You think I haven't tried that?

[ He could have put out three albums worth of ineffectually crooning lullabies he's attempted. ]

I've handled worse. Maybe. The Death Star was a close second.

[imahologram]

I don't know what you've tried! Walk him around for a while.

[It's really hard to help from this distance, unfortunately. If she could leave, she would.]

It can't be THAT bad. You can handle a fussy baby.