[Jay pauses partway through shoving handfuls of reflective cutlery into the drawers.]
Yes.
[Shut up. At least he's doing something.]
[He approaches the first mirror, raises the hammer, and, after a moment's contemplation, taps gingerly at the area near the corner. He doesn't expect much at first, maybe a few cracks spiderwebbing out from the impact site. He doesn't expect the hammer to just...sail right through.]
[He drops it. Of course he does.]
Goddamnit.
[It's hissed, under his breath.]
Sorry. [Sure, it's Tim, but it's not Tim. The longer they talk, the more pronounced the differences become. He's a similar shape, and he's got a similar outlook, but they're not the same guy. Shouldn't talk so freely around somebody you don't know.] It's just...Christmas.
[Not enough.]
They're over here. The Mirrors, they got--It's Christmas, so they're, like, allowed over. So they're not...
[He gestures vaguely to the glass--or rather, where the glass should be.]
[This is good. No, no, never mind, this is bad. Might even be worse.]
[Jay draws closer to the table, eyes a little wider, voice a little more frantic.]
Look, Tim, if you see a guy who looks like me, he's not. Don't--just don't. Goes for seeing yourself, too. Maybe more, I dunno. He tried to kill me, so.
jay, please chill, i beg of you
Yes.
[Shut up. At least he's doing something.]
[He approaches the first mirror, raises the hammer, and, after a moment's contemplation, taps gingerly at the area near the corner. He doesn't expect much at first, maybe a few cracks spiderwebbing out from the impact site. He doesn't expect the hammer to just...sail right through.]
[He drops it. Of course he does.]
Goddamnit.
[It's hissed, under his breath.]
Sorry. [Sure, it's Tim, but it's not Tim. The longer they talk, the more pronounced the differences become. He's a similar shape, and he's got a similar outlook, but they're not the same guy. Shouldn't talk so freely around somebody you don't know.] It's just...Christmas.
[Not enough.]
They're over here. The Mirrors, they got--It's Christmas, so they're, like, allowed over. So they're not...
[He gestures vaguely to the glass--or rather, where the glass should be.]
[This is good. No, no, never mind, this is bad. Might even be worse.]
[Jay draws closer to the table, eyes a little wider, voice a little more frantic.]
Look, Tim, if you see a guy who looks like me, he's not. Don't--just don't. Goes for seeing yourself, too. Maybe more, I dunno. He tried to kill me, so.
[Jay gestures, aimless. Do what you want.]