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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]
[Hang on while Coop looks into the Growlithe face and then back up to Albert's.]
I think that's for Hiccup and Carmen to decide.
[action]
[Read: IS THIS THEIR FAULT]
Re: [action]
You'll have to ask them. All I'm saying is that their Arcanines are probably responsible for the amount of Growlithe puppies.
[A beat.]
Which means it's just as likely that Rosie and Gandhina are now parents.
[action]
...and black.
1 + 1 = oh, you have got to be kidding.]
Rosie and Gandhina and Sheriff.
[COOPERRRRRRRR.]
[action]
[Wait, is this the part where he actually has to defend his houndour for the fact that poochyenas keep falling for him?]
Are you surprised?
[Honestly, it was almost bound to happen eventually. >>]
[action]
[Aghast, maybe. Personally offended. Mortified, more for the sake of the implications that naturally follow Cooper's poor naming choices than the thought of his own dog getting some figurative tail.]
Two of them are your dogs. You're twice as responsible for this.
[action]
[SOMEWHERE ELSE, HARRY'S PUPPY-SENSES ARE PROTESTING.]
[action]
[HE HAS A SURGERY TO ATTEND TO, OKAY.]
[action]
[See what they think. AND SO unless Albert has any obligations he will go do just that, still carrying the Growlithe.]
[action]
[He calls after him, still getting ready to head down to the lab.]
[action]
[Tossed over his shoulder, as he goes.]
[action]
[Ever determined to get the last word, Albert is.]