Don’t undress, please, Hannah.
Well, it’s a good thing she’s funny, ’cause no one would be watching her otherwise.
Despite a rocketing viewership—and actual income—we’d been ready to quit, deciding no amount of money was worth the humiliation. Then Webizode came along, offering us a home with awesome comment moderation. They gave us the equipment, too, plus promotion, exposure, and enough income for Trinity and me to leave grad-school housing. We found this gorgeous old house to rent, and yes, Trinity swears she gets spooky vibes from it, but honestly, I think she’d say that about any house more than twenty years old.
While we loved having our own house, it was Webizode’s moderation we appreciated most. Still, the morning after our latest upload, Trinity is scrolling through comments, ready to hit our personal report button if anything slipped through.
“All good?” I croak as I rise from the couch, the floor tilting underfoot.
She doesn’t turn. “That was a really shitty thing to do, Hannah.”
“Wh-what?” I blink and stagger to the desk as my head and stomach spin…in opposite directions, of course.
God, I need to drink less for these videos. Except that’s the point, as Webizode pointed out when I tried subbing water for half my vodka shots. Our fans noticed and were not impressed, and neither was Webizode.
In six months, I’ve exhausted every hangover remedy on the planet. The only thing that helps is having a full stomach pretaping and then drinking enough water afterward that I might as well sleep in the bathroom. I may have actually done that once or twice.
I look down at Trinity, my lurching brain struggling to remember why I’m here.
Oh, right.
“What’d I do?” I say.
She turns on the volume and hits Play on the frozen video. I’m saying, “The prevailing theory of time is that it moves in a straight line, like this.” I demonstrate with an empty shot glass, which does not move in any actual semblance of “straight.”
“Which means that to travel through time, you’d need to…” I did something on-screen with the two empty glasses.
I groan. “Time travel? Really?”
On-screen, I continue drunkenly explaining concepts that I don’t even understand sober.
“But that presumes that time is orderly, when it could actually be,” my drunken self says, and then launches into aDoctor Whoquote about time being like a ball of“wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff.”
“What?” on-screen Trinity says.
I continue to quote the show with, “Things don’t always happen in the right order.”
Trinity hits Stop and glares at me. I sink into a chair and blink at the screen. Then I blink at her.
“I made a fool of myself,” I say. “Situation normal. But I’m not seeing what…”
She jabs a finger at a section of the comments.
trekgal98:
Twenty points to Hannah for the Doctor Who refs!
larrybarry:
And they both zoomed right over Trinity’s head.
trekgal98:
Are you surprised?
larrybarry:
LOL
