theoldaeroplane: The world's leading war-themed hat simulator. (tf2)
[personal profile] theoldaeroplane

It drives me up a wall every time I see a fic where Engie’s associated with someone named Irene due to his “Ah, goodnight, Irene!” line, much more than it should. That is not why he says that.

“Yo, Engie, who’s Irene?”

The Scout’s voice was so sharp and sudden that the Engineer jumped, the handheld radio he’d been fooling with clattering to the ground. He steeled his nerves, took a deep breath, and stooped to pick it up. By the time he got his back straight again, Scout was leaned up against the canteen table, fingers drumming against the pitted wood. “Watch it, boy.”

“Sorry,” Scout said absently, in the same clipped way he always used that word: as a shortcut to steering the conversation back to what he wanted to talk about. “Who is she though?”

The Engineer turned the radio over in his hands, examining it for damage. He made a face; one of the knobs had come clear off, and a quick glance over the floor didn’t reveal its location. That was just great. “’She?’”


“Scout, I don’t have a danged clue what you’re talkin’ about.”

He was answered with an impatient gesture, which is to say a gesture exactly like any other gesture the Scout ever made. “Yeah you do, don’t play dumb, you say it all the friggin’ time, goodnight Irene!” God, his approximation of a Southern accent was appalling. “Who’s Irene, you got a lady back home named Irene, what?”

Was he serious? The Engineer genuinely wasn’t sure. “Ain’t you ever listened to the radio?”

“Radio, what, ‘course I listen to the radio, ain’t nothin’ else t’do ‘round here half the time, what’s the radio got to do with Irene?”

“It’s a song,” Engineer said, rolling his eyes under his safety goggles. “Jus’ somethin’ we say down South.”

Scout wrinkled his nose right up. “Man, c’mon, no way you gotta be kiddin’ me, I had a bet with Demo on this one.”

“’Goodnight Irene, I’ll see you—“

“Aw, jeezus, I get it, don’t sing.”


theoldaeroplane: Yelling bird (Default)