turn4bout | -- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling entranceWay [EW] --

-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling entranceWay [EW] --

[ when not training robots, terezi has taken to abusing office supplies and making fun of people. here are the fruits of her labors. ]

-- gallowsCalibrator [gC] attached file "h1l4r1ousbullsh1tsh3n4n1g4ns.rar". Accept files [Y]/N? --

TH1S GUY C4NT 3V3N W4LK
FUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK
Y34H, 1 H4V3 NO 1D34? N33DS MOR3 4MY
LOOK 4T TH1S B4D4SS
THOS3 4R3 BR1CKS DUMP4SS H3H3H3H3
GO GO GO GO
TH1S 1S WHY 1 4DOR3 YOU, K4RK4T
T1M3 TO 3XP3R1M3NT!!
UGHHHH

D1D 1 M1SS 4NYON3?
1F YOU F33L TH4T 1 H4V3 UNJUSTLY PROT3CT3D YOU FROM MY M3RRYM4K1NG 4ND MOCK1NG M1RTH, 1 4M T3RR1BLY SORRY
DO SOM3TH1NG H1L4R1OUSLY STUP1D OV3R TH3 N3TWORK, 4ND 1LL G3T R1GHT ON 1T

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ ugh what did you doooooo. She will rub at her hair furiously, getting it out of her face while STICKING HER TONGUE OUT AT YOU IN A POUTY MANNER. for once she is not tasting your mind or some crazy blind girl shit. ]

[ despite the words, she grins. oh dean, your laugh is like ebola-- infecting everything. ]

[Dean's laugh is also like herpes. It appears when you least expect it.]

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

[Leaning against one of the table legs, he raises an eyebrow.]

...what kind of offer?

Your army? What kinda army?

[This face? It is interested.]

[ Without waiting to see if he moves, she jumps up and ejecting random junk from her Sylladex. Papers, pens, broken chalk, chalk dust, Skittles wrappers, etc etc etc etc. It's an impressive hoard, and it's going all over the floor. ]

[ She strikes a pose.

And holds it.

Nothing happens. ]

[Dean cringes and waits for something exciting to burst forth from this majestic object of holding.

Nothing does.]

...is it supposed to do something?

[ Whirr whirr do you hear the sound of robots echoing through time and space? Because they are coming. They are coming for you, Dean. You'd better check yo'self before you wreck yo'self, boy. ]

[ Whirr whirr whirr a hoard of robots enters the scene, knocking into chairs in their mad dash for the trash. They are long dead demons with nothing else to live for. Manners are secondary to their cause. They cannot be tamed, as Hannah Montana would put it. ]

[By this point, Dean has elegantly scrambled up onto one of the cafeteria table, staring down at the small army in shock.

This is what she was talking about. Robots.

...fuck. Yes.]

Can we even control these suckers?

[ She drops a bit more trash into a line, and in the effort to clean shit up, the robots line up. ]

...I want in on this.

[RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW.]

[Dean digs around in his pockets and comes up with a bag of Peanut M&Ms.]

How 'bout these?

[ NOMNOM EATING EVERYTHING INCLUDING THE BAG. ]

[ best plan. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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