Tale as Old as Time~

[duskbecomesher]

It has come to my attention that a reunion is in order. Whether it is from the past, present, and or future this lovely gathering is overdue

Comments

[striketokill]

[Guess who's singing at the top of his lungs while using a champagne bottle as a mic? SIN, that's who.

And it wouldn't be so bad if he had rhythm or, y'know, effort into not making it sound like god forsaken warbling. Just a thought.]

RAISE YOUR HAND TO THE SKY, THROW IT UP THERE THROW IT HIGH AND DO THE WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVE~ [Oh yes, he is so awesome. not]

[unartemortale]

YOU'RE DOING IT ALL WRONG, MORON.

[This is a proper wave move. One hand up, waving it like he doesn't care. Two hands up to express just that. And finally, one hard kick to all those chairs to teach you just how wrong you were executing a "wave" move.]

[striketokill]

>> CRACK <<

>> THUD <<

>> BOOM <<

>> CRASH <<

[Your subordinate is now buried under chairs.]

[unartemortale]

[Your boss is laughing too hard too care.]

[striketokill]

[Kicks a chair at in his attempt to get free.]

Musta hit high tide.

[unartemortale]

No. I kicked it. Didn't you see me?

[striketokill]

[Stares at.]

... high tide.

[unartemortale]

I did it like this.

[He's going to kick again, just so you know.]

[striketokill]

[He's going to take it like a retard, just so you know.]

[unartemortale]

[Well, when his foot connects; Tyr's going to fall back on his ass.]

[corpsebullets]

. . .

[He does not know you.]

[striketokill]

[He's going to fall towards you now.]

HEEEEEEEEEY~

[corpsebullets]

[You can fall to the floor, because he's scooting his chair away.]

You're drunk. Go away.

[striketokill]

[Aye sir, he face plants the floor before turning his head slightly, squashed nose and all, to look at you.]

Am not.

[corpsebullets]

[He'll just prod at your face with his shoe, then.]

Then you are simply an idiot.

[striketokill]

[Do not make him bite that shoe. He's eaten worse.]

... yeah, that sounds about right.