Who are you and what have your planet's people done with the real Shen?

[nomen_est_numen]

[action]

[Anyone who's known Shen for more than, oh, say, thirty seconds, would never expect to see him doing what he's doing, now.

He's in a perfume store. That isn't the strange bit. The strange bit is that he's assembling shelves. He's been sweeping and assembling shelves and re-stocking merchandise all day. Y'see, someone spotted that that giant bird EVO was him--kind of hard not to, with that colour scheme--and called him out on it. And he agreed to fix whatever he could fix.

One might wonder if he's feeling well or got another blow to the head or if someone's holding his feather-conditioning powder hostage.

One could ask...]

Comments

[Text]

[trustycrowbar]

shen, what the hell are you doing over there?

did you lose a bet or something?

[If Shen looks around, he'll find the sender of that text across the street at a half-rebuilt cafe. Gordon smirks and waves, and a few seconds later.]

you know, it's about lunchtime.

if you can tear yourself away from your indentured servitude for an hour, i'll pay.

[Action]

[stinglikeabat]

Shen? You have a job?

[And one involving menial labor at that! He'd always thought he'd be more of a desk jockey sort of person. Sort of peacock.]