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Entry tags:
- and why is he so angry,
- approaching canon levels of absurdity,
- been eating the local mushrooms,
- dammit gandhina,
- dammit johto,
- dammit thing,
- everything is stupid forever,
- hey look he has a heart,
- hit the deck it's agent rosenflower,
- i love you but only like gandhi,
- i've got work to do dammit,
- shenanigans are imminent,
- stocking up on aspirin,
- this is all coop's fault somehow,
- welcome to the justice farm of science,
- why would you ever,
- ▶ saffron city
009 | Saffron City | Video / Action;
[It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, Route! Sixty-five degrees and sunny in the middle of January. Sure, all the melting snow has probably turned the yard to mud, but what the hey, it's a nice change from blitzing cold weather and mountains of snow. And seeing as how tomorrow is predicted to be just as nice, Albert's just going to head right on over to the hall closet to put away his heavy winter coat for the next few d—
OHGOD WHY ARE THERE PUPPIES EVERYWHERE WHO PUT PUPPIES IN THE CLOSET
Twenty-four puppies, to be exact — a nice big mess of Poochyena, Houndour, and Growlithe puppies, all of whom come swarming out at the first crack of light shining through the doorway. One furry stampede later, Albert is left standing aghast with his hand still on the doorknob and the coat still over his arm, staring incredulously into the closet (where there seems to be a hastily-dragged and lumpily-piled blanket shoved into a corner, and a whole lot of eggshells scattered around) and blinking like he's not entirely sure he believes he just saw what he did.
Were those just puppies.
In the closet.
Why were there puppies in the — actually, you know what, does he really want to know? Probably not.]
Gandhina!
[And sure enough, a minute later, a muddy-pawed Gandhina trots obediently into view, tail wagging and a comatose, weather-beaten, mostly-dead Paras held securely in her jaws. Clearly currently rocking the most happy puppy mood to ever exist, she sets it down on the carpet and sits proudly, still trying to wag her tail despite it being trapped beneath her.]
Dammit, Gandhina, what are you doing with Thi— that's...not Thing. Where did you find ano...ther...
[BUT BEFORE FURTHER COMMENT CAN BE HAD, in skitters the real Thing (as evidenced by the fact that he's still de-mushroomed and wrapped securely in clean white bandages) — who proceeds to DASH OVER TO THE OTHER PARAS like a crab possessed, and what ensues can only be described as, well, the Paras equivalent of cuddling.
Yeah.
If any of you need Albert, network, he'll just be standing here contemplating what the hell his life has become, thanks.]
OHGOD WHY ARE THERE PUPPIES EVERYWHERE WHO PUT PUPPIES IN THE CLOSET
Twenty-four puppies, to be exact — a nice big mess of Poochyena, Houndour, and Growlithe puppies, all of whom come swarming out at the first crack of light shining through the doorway. One furry stampede later, Albert is left standing aghast with his hand still on the doorknob and the coat still over his arm, staring incredulously into the closet (where there seems to be a hastily-dragged and lumpily-piled blanket shoved into a corner, and a whole lot of eggshells scattered around) and blinking like he's not entirely sure he believes he just saw what he did.
Were those just puppies.
In the closet.
Why were there puppies in the — actually, you know what, does he really want to know? Probably not.]
Gandhina!
[And sure enough, a minute later, a muddy-pawed Gandhina trots obediently into view, tail wagging and a comatose, weather-beaten, mostly-dead Paras held securely in her jaws. Clearly currently rocking the most happy puppy mood to ever exist, she sets it down on the carpet and sits proudly, still trying to wag her tail despite it being trapped beneath her.]
Dammit, Gandhina, what are you doing with Thi— that's...not Thing. Where did you find ano...ther...
[BUT BEFORE FURTHER COMMENT CAN BE HAD, in skitters the real Thing (as evidenced by the fact that he's still de-mushroomed and wrapped securely in clean white bandages) — who proceeds to DASH OVER TO THE OTHER PARAS like a crab possessed, and what ensues can only be described as, well, the Paras equivalent of cuddling.
Yeah.
If any of you need Albert, network, he'll just be standing here contemplating what the hell his life has become, thanks.]
[action]
Cooper! Albert!
[See, he was just sitting there, minding his own business and letting his team out to play, and then, from the door, came an AVALANCHE OF PUPPIES. They knocked him right off the steps.
And.
Puppies.
SO MANY PUPPIES.]
[action]
I'M BUSY!
[action]
WHERE THE HELL DID ALL THESE DOGS COME FROM?
[action]
[...This is technically a true statement.]
[action]
—WHAT WERE THEY DOING IN THE CLOSET?
[action]
HATCHING, APPARENTLY.
[action]
Harry has two options: 1) Leave the dogs out here, go into the lab, piss off Albert; 2) Stay out here, continue yelling, piss off Albert.
...he could also just stop yelling and address this later, but that's no fun
because it doesn't involve pissing off Albert.]ARE THEY GANDHINA'S?
[action]
[WHY IS EVERYONE YELLING. Also that was kind of a non sequitur but that's not the point.]
[action]
[wait did albert just say he's doing surgery on a crab]
WHAT?
[action]
[Jesus, he gets enough of this with Gordon. ALSO HE IS GOING TO THE LAB NOW, BYE.]
[action]
Oh, look at that.
Like ducklings, except for a few. One good yell gets them scrambling past Harry and back into the house.
Here's hoping that lab door is shut!]
[action]
Do not think for even one second that those dogs are getting anywhere near this lab, Harry S. Truman.]
[action]
THROUGH THE DOOR IT IS.]
Albert, what is going on?
[action]
[He remarks in a statement that proves more ironic than intended, considering the presence of the door between them.]
I opened the closet door and out comes an avalanche of dogs. Gandhina got out and she's covered in mud and when she comes back in she's dragging another Thing. And now it turns out Thing and Other Thing know each other, and I've got another damn surgery to walk Dummy through.
[action]
Thing?
...you mean the bug?
[action]
[SHUT UP, HARRY.]
[action]
What's wrong with it?
[And suddenly: BARKING. LOTS OF BARKING. One of the Poochyena has decided that he's not okay with this situation, for whatever reason.
Or maybe he just realized he doesn't like doors.]
—hey! Shh!
[action]
[Beat.]
And will you keep that racket down!
[action]
[That sure is a good reason.]
Kinda hard to keep it down when there are —
[There's a pause as Harry attempts counting the dogs in his general vicinity and those he can see darting around the rooms in the distance.]
A lot of dogs out here. Is there anything I can do to help, aside from keeping them quiet?