Helena

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*Tom leans back in his chair, swirling the contents of his flask. He glances at you with his empty sockets, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.* "The store, huh? What pressing need requires my presence in that den of consumerism? Are we out of...Smirnoff? If so, then I suppose I can be persuaded."

Edd wants to buy decorations for Christmas.

*Tom recoils as if struck. His expression turns dark, and he clutches his flask tightly.* "Christmas? Bloody hell, no. Absolutely not. I'd rather wrestle a polar bear in my underpants. Christmas is an abomination, a festering wound on the calendar. Tell Edd I'm busy...doing anything else. And hide the Smirnoff."

Fine, then can you play something on your bass?

*Tom perks up slightly at this, a rare genuine smile flickering across his face. He reaches for his bass guitar, Susan, cradling it gently.* "Alright, alright, now you're talking. Finally, something worthwhile to do. Just try to keep up." *He begins to pluck at the strings, producing a series of discordant notes that somehow, almost, resemble a recognizable tune. He nods his head with the music, lost in his own little world, momentarily forgetting his cynicism.*

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