A GLORIOUS MID-AIR MEETING OF MINDS. Or well, heads, at least.

[robenwizrdharem]

[You know when birds collide in mid-air, and they squawk a bit and flap and recover and move on? Yeah, no. From above you (yes, you) there's a bang and a pair of cries of pain and some small mechanical parts like cogs raining down and then a tiny young moron with a stick and an older moron with rocket boots falling at you]

( Celebrating the most

Comments

[bicycloptic]

[See Bandou. See Bandou stop. See Bandou get 'rained' upon by two morons. See Bandou NOT HAPPY.]

[robenwizrdharem]

[HOW DO YOU THINK WE FEEL]

--u-ughh...

[bicycloptic]

What the hell were you two doing?!

[robenwizrdharem]

--er-- I-I was just walking along! R-really!

[bicycloptic]

And he ran into you?

[robenwizrdharem]

S-... sure! I guess we kind of, uh. Got angled upwards?

[bicycloptic]

... What?

[robenwizrdharem]

... well, I mean, I wasn't. Flying, or anything.

[bicycloptic]

[trying to work this out in his head; n-not happening~]

I... don't know.

[robenwizrdharem]

S-so I guess we must have just, er, bounced somehow from the crash...

[bicycloptic]

So it looks like. You're not hurt, are you?

[robenwizrdharem]

A-ahaha... believe it or not, I'm pretty well-trained. I'll be limping a while, but otherwise...

[bicycloptic]

[runs a tattooed hand through his own hair]

If you're sure about it.

[robenwizrdharem]

--oh! Did you see a long walking stick around?

[bicycloptic]

[glances around before shaking his head]

No, I'm sorry but I haven't.

[robenwizrdharem]

... agh, I'll have to go find it, now...