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justribbingHeya.
[ Well, whaddya know. It's the castle's sole resident monster and actual walking, talking skeleton, Sans. Rather than looking like hell warmed over, he's back to his usual -- if perpetually tired and indolent -- self. His t-shirt is more or less plastered to his skeletal frame, though, which has a way of making him seem somehow smaller. Considering he usually wears layers of shirts and hoodies, any illusion of girth is banished here. Giving his greeting to the network, there's another sound introduced beneath his Brooklyn-flavored rumble, someone else wheezing with laughter off-camera. ]
Uh, ran into a little problem with the plumbin' downstairs-- hey, y’mind? I'm talkin' here.
[ Ah, yes, spoken like someone who utterly lacks in the necessary biological components, so any innuendo's lost on Sans. Whoever's with him, though, there's no denying the other guy is busting a seam laughing. With an amused roll of his eyelights, Sans lets it pass. ]
Ehhh, fuhgeddaboudit. I'm sure it'll be fine.
[ Just then, another figure comes into view just over Sans's shoulder. This figure, more importantly a humanoid, bipedal turtle, reaches for the handle of a door just across the hall. When pulled open, a massive cascade of white suds comes drooping out of the doorway, a slow-moving tidal wave of laundry detergent foam.
Sans glances over his shoulder at this inevitable calamity as Wade finally emerges from the side, leaning heavily on the skeleton's other shoulder as he's almost overcome with laughter. ]
It's a T- ahahahahahahaha!
[ Wade’s words are garbled by another bout of laughter, and he leans over the skeleton’s shoulder again, one finger in the air as if he’s begging for patience. Eventually the paroxysms calm down long enough for him to make his point: ]
It's a Tide-al wave!
[ The skeleton monster redirects his gaze to Wade, whose case seems contagious enough that even Sans’s shoulders start to shake with mirth. The turtle, however, seems less enamored by the display. His bare feet skid dangerously across the foamy floor, and he yelps out an undignified noise in his struggle to keep from eating dirt. ]
Shell!
[ That sounds suspiciously like a curse word, don’t it? In any case, the turtle manages to get his footing with a clumsy teeter that doesn’t quite corroborate the sort of grace that the twin katana on his shell imply. ]
What the heck is this? Hey!
[ Unfortunately the turtle’s predicament is about to get even more embarrassing as Wade, already weakened from Sans’s epic laundry fail, explodes into renewed laughter at the newcomer’s attempt to right himself. It’s all too much for the mercenary, and eventually he slips off of Sans’s shoulders and collapses in a heap on the floor. ]
That one really floored ya, huh?
[ Well, whaddya know. It's the castle's sole resident monster and actual walking, talking skeleton, Sans. Rather than looking like hell warmed over, he's back to his usual -- if perpetually tired and indolent -- self. His t-shirt is more or less plastered to his skeletal frame, though, which has a way of making him seem somehow smaller. Considering he usually wears layers of shirts and hoodies, any illusion of girth is banished here. Giving his greeting to the network, there's another sound introduced beneath his Brooklyn-flavored rumble, someone else wheezing with laughter off-camera. ]
Uh, ran into a little problem with the plumbin' downstairs-- hey, y’mind? I'm talkin' here.
[ Ah, yes, spoken like someone who utterly lacks in the necessary biological components, so any innuendo's lost on Sans. Whoever's with him, though, there's no denying the other guy is busting a seam laughing. With an amused roll of his eyelights, Sans lets it pass. ]
Ehhh, fuhgeddaboudit. I'm sure it'll be fine.
[ Just then, another figure comes into view just over Sans's shoulder. This figure, more importantly a humanoid, bipedal turtle, reaches for the handle of a door just across the hall. When pulled open, a massive cascade of white suds comes drooping out of the doorway, a slow-moving tidal wave of laundry detergent foam.
Sans glances over his shoulder at this inevitable calamity as Wade finally emerges from the side, leaning heavily on the skeleton's other shoulder as he's almost overcome with laughter. ]
It's a T- ahahahahahahaha!
[ Wade’s words are garbled by another bout of laughter, and he leans over the skeleton’s shoulder again, one finger in the air as if he’s begging for patience. Eventually the paroxysms calm down long enough for him to make his point: ]
It's a Tide-al wave!
[ The skeleton monster redirects his gaze to Wade, whose case seems contagious enough that even Sans’s shoulders start to shake with mirth. The turtle, however, seems less enamored by the display. His bare feet skid dangerously across the foamy floor, and he yelps out an undignified noise in his struggle to keep from eating dirt. ]
Shell!
[ That sounds suspiciously like a curse word, don’t it? In any case, the turtle manages to get his footing with a clumsy teeter that doesn’t quite corroborate the sort of grace that the twin katana on his shell imply. ]
What the heck is this? Hey!
[ Unfortunately the turtle’s predicament is about to get even more embarrassing as Wade, already weakened from Sans’s epic laundry fail, explodes into renewed laughter at the newcomer’s attempt to right himself. It’s all too much for the mercenary, and eventually he slips off of Sans’s shoulders and collapses in a heap on the floor. ]
That one really floored ya, huh?