The joke's on me.

[Martin Moss]

Martin walked through Zonko's joke shop, lightly perusing the items. He often liked to take apart the joke products and use them in his weapons-building -- their magic was usually surprisingly strong and terribly clever, and more importantly, Marty thought it hilariously funny to attack a Dark Wizard with a rubber chicken or something.

He heard a loud cracking sound from behind him -- something blowing up, surely -- and nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned around, noticed someone standing right there and smiled weakly at them.

(ooc: Anybody at all! ... and the thread title might be the lamest thing I've ever written, lol)

[Sarah Watson]

((ooc: Hope you don't mind Sarah, haha she was just begging to be written in this situation.))

Sarah stood surrounded by joke products and absolutely hating it. The irony of seeing someone like her in such a shop was clearly lost on those who didn't know her, something she was thankful for because under normal circumstances she wouldn't be seen dead in such a stupid place. Backing away from a group of children- she classified anyone under 20 as a child especially if they were in Zonko's of all places- she instead headed down an another aisle which seemed quite empty. She supposed this was the safest place in the shop but apparently not because just then a rather spotty male sales assistant moved towards her asking 'can I be of assistance?'. He must have observed formal clothing of a crisp suit and assumed she would need help since she didn't exactly look as though she belonged there. With this assumption in mind Sarah merely fixed him with an unamused look, "You can't darling, go back to giving the kiddies their whoopee cushions" she advised him sarcastically before turning on her heel and walking away from him.

Just then a joke model of Blast Ended Skrewt on the display next to her exploded, a loud crack coming from it, followed by smoke. Sarah started, drawing her wand immediately in a defensive manner before even realising she had done it, it tended to be instinct to Aurors. Seeing a child the other side of the shelf with his wand aimed at the toy and looking rather pleased with his little moment of mischief she merely rolled her eyes scathingly before turning to see a familiar face in front of her. "Aah if it isn't Moss The Boss," she greeted in her own way before sighing, "Finally I find someone... fairly sane at least in here. Unless you are here to buy a hilarious whoopee cushion which sets the victim's arse on fire in which case I revoke that statement and say you are insane," she remarked, leaning against the shelf beside her in a casual, bored manner.

[Martin Moss]

(ooc: Sarah is fantastic!)

"Oh! Good afternoon, Watson," Marty greeted Sarah formally. He always called the Aurors by their surnames, even if they were on friendly terms... not that he could ever tell with Sarah if they were on friendly terms or not. He leaned against a shelf in an attempt to look cool and casual in front of this incredible woman. "Indeed it is I, Moss the Boss," he spoke in a dramatic voice typically reserved for narrations as Dungeon Master in his weekly D&D circle.

"That would be rather insane, wouldn't it?" Marty remarked thoughtfully. "I mean, get someone to look like they've farted: hilarious, but someone who appears to have a spontaneously combustible arse would just make me sad, or... make me want to hire them for party tricks." Marty looked at Sarah seriously -- he'd never in a million years imagine her walking around in a joke shop, and was unable to fathom why she'd choose to be there.

The worst case scenario suddenly dawned on Marty, and in a state of paranoia he started to shake his head. "Oh shit, you're not catching some Death Eater in here, are you?" (And really, if you couldn't be safe in Zonko's Joke Shop, where could you be safe?) "Would, er, would you think less of me if I cowered behind this row of Dungbombs? It's just, well, this rubber chicken is going to need some serious pimping out before it can be considered a viable weapon."

[Sarah Watson]

"Good afternoon? If you say so, Moss," Sarah countered in a mocking manner before snorting softly as he spoke his name in a dramatic voice. Whenever the title was used by her at least it was in a highly sarcastic and teasing manner for which she should feel a little bit ashamed, but she didn't, not really when it came to him anyway. "Yes, hilarious," she said, rolling her eyes at the idea of a whoopee cushion being funny to anyone over the age of 10, "I can't say I would consider hiring them for party tricks... perhaps getting them to Mungo's would be the best protocol first?"

Replacing her wand back in her jacket pocket since there was no immediate danger Sarah folded her arms casually as she leaned against the display and observed him. A slow smile grew as he asked if she was catching a Deatheater... she wasn't, of course, but it was too amusing to nod seriously at him as though confirming she was. "Yes actually, I am, he's a nasty piece of work that likes to use seemingly harmless joke toys as bombs," she remarked dryly, her expression serious and firm, "Would I think less of you? Perhaps... why? I am sure you of all people could, what was it, 'pimp' it out into a fully functioning weapon for me to use?" she suggested coolly.

"Don't sweat it, Moss," Sarah assured him with a smirk, "I'm lying, I'm not catching a Deatheater today I'm..." she sighed slightly as she admitted, "I'm shopping, or supposed to be anyway. A friend of my family has twins and their eleventh birthday is this week. They both like Zonko's and if I must get them a present from here then I probably need one that they can't terrorise their whole household with," she explained, flipping her wavy blonde hair over her shoulder as she spoke.

[Martin Moss]

"I mean, not hilarious to me obviously, but to some people... out there... in the world," Marty tried to absolve himself, raising his eyebrows so they bounced just above the black frames of his glasses. "Well, what I meant was if I actually witnessed an arse randomly combusting I'd assume it was more of a superpower, you know? Bit like Johnny Storm from the Fantastic Four, except only around the arse region. Johnny R. Storm... Johnny Arsetorm?"

He peered around the corner, looking a little bit sick to his stomach at the prospect of some Death Eater fight happening right here, right now, in the middle of a nice relaxing afternoon at the joke shop. "He makes weapons out of toys? That's... terrible. A truly reprehensible offense. I would never," Marty said while shaking his head, finally letting go of the rubber chicken and placing it back on the shelf.

When Sarah revealed that she was just messing with him, Marty glared at her, but inwardly sighed with relief. He was perfectly comfortable staying within the safe confines of the Ministry while the sexy spy ladies did all of that dangerous stuff... he was a modern, enlightened gentleman like that. "Alright Watson, aside from the fact that I hate you, I believe I may be able to offer some assistance. You may not expect it from my job as an expert in badass motherfucking weapons, but I have a... bit of aptitude in the prank product arena."

[Sarah Watson]

Sarah nodded slowly, "I see," she said sternly though her raised eyebrows probably showed that she didn't believe Marty wouldn't find fake farting hilarious. "So arse combusting is a superpower then? I didn't know that... so would any limb combusting possibly be a superpower?" she asked in a mock serious tone, looking to him with a smirk as she waited for an answer.

"Yes he does, I know, he's despicable," Sarah agreed seriously with a sad shake of her head in dismay at the way this Deatheater had turned out, or so she was pretending anyway. "To be honest he's a bit of a twisted bastard, I mean... who uses this place as their weapons store, really?" she pointed out jokingly and then smiled slowly as it had sunk in to Marty that she was only messing around with him. "I'd be careful with that glare Moss, I could have you on the floor in a matter of seconds if I didn't like it," she pointed out in a cheerful manner, as if she wasn't proposing physically assaulting him and throwing him to the floor just for looking at her.

"You hate me?" she asked with a shocked expression, "That hurts, Marty, that seriously hurts," she said dryly, holding a hand over her heart for a moment in a dramatic gesture before sobering once more into her usual mocking smirky expression. “But I think you can make up for hurting my feelings by helping me, yes… so… it’s your duty more than anything,” she argued logically before unfolding her arms so she wasn’t quite as intimidating standing there. “Right, well… I need something for the boys, preferably something prank-ish but not something they can cause any serious harm with. I know boys can probably cause harm with most pranks but… their mum would kill me if give them, for example, arse combusting superpowers,” she explained.

[Martin Moss]

"Nah, I reckon for a superhero, combustion of the arse would be ideal, if you had enough thrust to propel you forward," Marty said while motioning with his hand to illustrate. "Hey, here's a fact intrinsically related to the conversation: it is quite possible to light a human flatus on fire. It burns blue!" He lifted his hands and grinned in the oh, isn't science incredible! sort of way very common to a certain Mr. Moss.

"Oh... well... that's a bit full-on isn't it?" He adjusted his glasses, laughing awkwardly. He shook his head and tried to get off the subject of Sarah, you know, beating him up.

"Yes... Sarah," he replied. She had called him by his first name and he tried to do the same, but it just felt weird. "I hate you. I'm going to design a rubber chicken torpedo for you to use on your next mission, how do you like that?"

Marty began to sift through the joke products on the shelves with an easy familiarity, thinking that his own parents would be thrilled if he came down with superpowers, even if it were a combustible arse... he could be called The Arsebuster... or something that sounded less like a bad porno. "Okay, so there's stuff here you ought to be wary of -- take this for example," he said as he lifted a box from the shelf. "Punching telescope, clearly designed by monkeys in trousers. With some small charms alterations and minor welding experience, your average eleven-year-old can turn this baby into a powerful spud gun, which doesn't actually sound too serious... unless you've been hit in the kidney by a pneumatically launched potato," he explained while lightly tapping the box.

He dropped it back on the shelf and continued to browse while humming quietly, probably doing more to expose his eleven-year-old self than actually helping Sarah.

[Sarah Watson]

Looking over at him with an amused expression Sarah nodded in a faux-sincere manner, "I see," she said in a serious tone before a smile broke through. "You say that as though you speak from experience... are you... speaking from experience I mean?" she asked teasingly.

Snorting in amusement as he used her first name and seemed to find it rather odd, if his expression was anything to go by, she nodded in understanding, "It's odd that, isn't it? Calling me Sarah I mean, it's odd hearing it too," she remarked. "How do I like that? I quite like it, actually," Sarah replied with a wistful expression in her eyes, "I can see lots of possibilities to use that, good thinking Moss." One could never be quite sure whether or not Sarah was taking the piss most of the time but that was 'her way' or so she claimed and Moss was unfortunately a victim of that kind of mocking. She didn't mean anything bad by it- she actually thought most was lovely in an endearing kind of way!

Following Moss as he went over to the shelf and started explaining about the products on sale she listened curiously, nodding along, and becoming rather more grateful for having bumped into him as it seemed to be his area of expertise. "Right... potential spud gun, I think that'd be a definite no," she agreed with a smile, "Believe me these two twins are inventive little buggers, if it can't be made into a weapon they will... unfortunately their parents also spoil them, hence why when they said they wanted presents from Zonko's their parents told me to just go along with it," she commented with a light sigh. "See, I might just be looking at this from an Auror-weaponry perspective rather than an eleven year old's but basically all this stuff are potential weapons," Sarah noted with a laugh, shaking her head slightly.

[Martin Moss]

"I... saw it on Mythbusters?" Marty proposed with his eyebrows raised; it seemed like a plausible enough explanation. He was aware of how Sarah liked to mock him, and she already knew about his attempts at building a lady robot, so he thought it best not to add more farts to the fire... so to speak.

"Oh... thank you," he replied with surprise, smiling at Sarah. Marty had a somewhat faulty sarcasm meter, which made his conversation with someone like Sarah... interesting, to say the least.

Marty shook his head. "Merlin's beard, kids these days are so spoiled. When I was their age, I was attempting to build flamethrowers out of stuff lying around my parents' house... and you know what, I liked it!" he ranted while throwing up his hands. He nodded emphatically when Sarah told him that it all seemed like potential weapons. "Right, well anything can kill you can't it? That's not just me being paranoid, I mean, literally anything. That's why I never take escalators."

He then picked up two jars of fake vomit and held them up, one in each hand. "Well, this seems alright, do you prefer chunky or classic style?"