WHO: Terrorsaur
ttlypredleader, Cheetor
yourlittleguy and Mog
mistermoogleWHERE: Starting at Terrorsaur's apartment, it moves to an abandoned lot...somewhere in the City
WHEN: January 18th - HIGH NOON
WARNINGS: None, save for violence and ~*dance*~
SUMMARY:
Terrorsaur lied his way into some trouble in Cheetor's break dancing post. He thinks it's over. It's not.
FORMAT: Quicklog
(
SHOW YOUR MOVES )
All it takes is a running head start, and then off he goes! Up the side of the wall, vault to the opposite building, get a running start on the ledge, jump, land, lather, rinse, repeat, until he's very uncomfortably high up. What he wouldn't give for those jets he used to have in his sides.
But half of this is in the presentation, so off he goes, across the ledge, his hands in his pockets, until he gets to Terrorsaur's window, and "knocks."
BAM! BAM! BAM!]
Hey! Birdbrain!
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You! What the slag do you think you're doing, furball?! [Pause, he starts looking a little uncomfortable] And how did you find me?!
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[Cheetor jabs a thumb backwards.]
So, come on.
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..."Come on"?
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[He points downward.]
Let's go. He's got the boom box.
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[Then goes to slam his window shut.]
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[Cheetor's fast enough that he manages to shove his entire upper torso and a leg through the window before Terrorsaur can shut it.]
You shot your mouth off to us on the network, and you're backing off now that we called your bluff? You really haven't changed since I saw you.
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...Unless you want us to tell the whole network about how you backed out of our little meeting.
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[He glares at Cheetor. He was about to ramble about how he can't possibly be expected to care about something as stupid as a dance battle, but that threat got his attention.]
Blackmail isn't a very Maximal thing to do. [Crosses arms] Regardless, you can't make me do a slagging thing!
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[He takes out his comm and flicks it on, holding it up so he can take a video of Terrorsaur.]
Hello, Network! Just wanted to let you know that you are currently staring at a grade-A coward who just backed out of a measly dance battle with Mog. But maybe it's not his fault. He said he could wipe the floor with the other guy, maybe he just has too much to do that he can't spare five minutes to show us what's what. [He looks up at Terrorsaur and grins.] You want to say hi to the people, Terrorsaur?
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[Panicked screech] Stop that! [Dashes to Cheetor and tries to cover up the screen/camera] Fine, fine! I'll go!
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