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Entry tags:
- and why is he so angry,
- arceus help you all,
- everything is stupid forever,
- here to kick ass and autopsy bodies,
- hit the deck it's agent rosenflower,
- i love you but only like gandhi,
- i'm here the day is saved,
- i've got work to do dammit,
- like sherman in atlanta,
- oh look it's an albert rant™,
- shenanigans are imminent,
- so i heard you like manhugs,
- this is all coop's fault somehow,
- where the hell is my lab,
- ▶ new bark town
001 | New Bark Town | Video;
[Good morning, Johto! Today, for your viewing pleasure, we have...what appears to be the rather dark and damp interior of a Poochyena's mouth, complete with glistening teeth and a tiny smear of drool at the edge of the camera feed. Not a very decent view, but that's okay, because there's plenty of audio to make up for that — and it seems we've tuned in right in the middle of some rather belligerent ranting...]
—ow what kind of game you're playing here, lady, but I have neither the time nor the patience to stand around while some overzealous kitchen marm tries to stuff me full of animal crackers and ship me off to elementary school. I want to know who you are, I want to know where I am, and most importantly I want to know how the hell you got me here to this godforsaken boondocks in the first place. I have plenty of work to do, and I do not have time for your inane prattle. Just give me some answers so I can be on my way.
[There is some background chatter here, which careful listeners may recognize as Mom's standard speech.]
Listen, June Cleaver, I'll make this very clear: I could not care less about these Puggymans you insist on rambling continuously about. The question is simple: where the hell am I?
[More background chatter! Are we sensing a trend?]
Hn. Forget it.
[Footsteps begin to tap across the linoleum, and in response, the camera begins to shake; evidently, the owner of those teeth is trotting over to give her own greeting to this rather angry newcomer to Johto. And it appears, when the footsteps pause, that he's just noticed her.]
What do you want?
[More shaking of the camera, and then suddenly there is bright light and a whole lot of twisting and rotating as the man apparently takes the Gear out of the dog's mouth and turns it over in his hand, twisting it every which way and tapping it as he inspects it. People who get motion sickness, this is really not the video for you.]
...what is this, a toy or some kind of Star Trek — HELLO.
[And hopefully no one had their volume turned up on their gear, because the man holding it is using his Outside Voice as he addresses the microphone that is apparently about three inches away from his face at the moment.]
I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU'VE GOT SOME ANSWERS FOR ME, MR. SCOTT?
—ow what kind of game you're playing here, lady, but I have neither the time nor the patience to stand around while some overzealous kitchen marm tries to stuff me full of animal crackers and ship me off to elementary school. I want to know who you are, I want to know where I am, and most importantly I want to know how the hell you got me here to this godforsaken boondocks in the first place. I have plenty of work to do, and I do not have time for your inane prattle. Just give me some answers so I can be on my way.
[There is some background chatter here, which careful listeners may recognize as Mom's standard speech.]
Listen, June Cleaver, I'll make this very clear: I could not care less about these Puggymans you insist on rambling continuously about. The question is simple: where the hell am I?
[More background chatter! Are we sensing a trend?]
Hn. Forget it.
[Footsteps begin to tap across the linoleum, and in response, the camera begins to shake; evidently, the owner of those teeth is trotting over to give her own greeting to this rather angry newcomer to Johto. And it appears, when the footsteps pause, that he's just noticed her.]
What do you want?
[More shaking of the camera, and then suddenly there is bright light and a whole lot of twisting and rotating as the man apparently takes the Gear out of the dog's mouth and turns it over in his hand, twisting it every which way and tapping it as he inspects it. People who get motion sickness, this is really not the video for you.]
...what is this, a toy or some kind of Star Trek — HELLO.
[And hopefully no one had their volume turned up on their gear, because the man holding it is using his Outside Voice as he addresses the microphone that is apparently about three inches away from his face at the moment.]
I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU'VE GOT SOME ANSWERS FOR ME, MR. SCOTT?
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