Time Meet Your Moosey Fate!
Who: GIR and Natsuo
When: TUESDAY
Where: Room 11A
Summary: Extreme cuteness. And VIOLENCE. YAY VIOLENCE.
Rating: Uhh. PG-13+? Probably not + though. HOW CAN ANYTHING INVOLVING GIR BE RATED R I MEAN SERIOUSLY
Warnings: Violence. Both possibly direct and indirect. Maybe cuddles. And a mix of violence and cuddles. Violent cuddling.
GIR was out and about as per usual. He left his device in his room. Maybe. Maybe he left it in the cafeteria. Maybe it's being stored in his head, chest cavity or his jet feet compartments. Who knows where the device was. Either way, it wasn't all that important. The point is he's not using it. In fact, he's waddling about in the hallways, eyes rolling about on his head with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Each step he made was followed by a light peeping squeak, his large zipper bouncing against his chest with each springy step he made. He stopped momentarily, looking down at the ground. He rose a black paw, looking at it with one focused eye while the other silently stared into nothingness--more so a point on the wall next to him, but not necessarily focusing on the wall itself. He sniffed his paw before sticking it into his mouth and continuing on his way.
It wasn't long before he was soon met with waddling himself flat into a suite door. He fell flat on his back, his paw flinging out of his mouth, which gaped as his eyes rolled and narrowed, tongue hanging out as if the poor little robot had lost his breath. He rolled himself back up, looking up at the number on the door.
11.
Being the amazingly homely robot he was, GIR let himself in, waddling towards 11A, bumping into it and falling back, "OUGH." He hopped back up, tail wagging behind him. His mouth opened with excitement, his arms flailing about at his sides, "AH'M COMIN' IIIIN!" And with that, he forced himself in, bumping the door open and tumbling inside.
When: TUESDAY
Where: Room 11A
Summary: Extreme cuteness. And VIOLENCE. YAY VIOLENCE.
Rating: Uhh. PG-13+? Probably not + though. HOW CAN ANYTHING INVOLVING GIR BE RATED R I MEAN SERIOUSLY
Warnings: Violence. Both possibly direct and indirect. Maybe cuddles. And a mix of violence and cuddles. Violent cuddling.
GIR was out and about as per usual. He left his device in his room. Maybe. Maybe he left it in the cafeteria. Maybe it's being stored in his head, chest cavity or his jet feet compartments. Who knows where the device was. Either way, it wasn't all that important. The point is he's not using it. In fact, he's waddling about in the hallways, eyes rolling about on his head with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Each step he made was followed by a light peeping squeak, his large zipper bouncing against his chest with each springy step he made. He stopped momentarily, looking down at the ground. He rose a black paw, looking at it with one focused eye while the other silently stared into nothingness--more so a point on the wall next to him, but not necessarily focusing on the wall itself. He sniffed his paw before sticking it into his mouth and continuing on his way.
It wasn't long before he was soon met with waddling himself flat into a suite door. He fell flat on his back, his paw flinging out of his mouth, which gaped as his eyes rolled and narrowed, tongue hanging out as if the poor little robot had lost his breath. He rolled himself back up, looking up at the number on the door.
11.
Being the amazingly homely robot he was, GIR let himself in, waddling towards 11A, bumping into it and falling back, "OUGH." He hopped back up, tail wagging behind him. His mouth opened with excitement, his arms flailing about at his sides, "AH'M COMIN' IIIIN!" And with that, he forced himself in, bumping the door open and tumbling inside.