[The feed clicks on and everyone is greeted with Eridan's smirking face--boy he sure does look pleased with himself. He isn't sporting his high collared cape, and as he moves the camera, he's obviously injured--purple blood soaking his shoulder, and some further more soaking across his chest where there's a nice sized slash in his shirt. But he
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[Is that a talking hoofbeast? Oh, it's probably like that unicorn thing he talked to before.]
Why shouldn't I be mad? With all this audacious disrespect constantly bein' thrown my way, how would you expect from someone a my standin' to otherwise react? Exactly!
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[have some vacant staring because... What.]
... What the fuck are you talkin' about?
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... I wasn't sayin' that like I'm tryin' to get to the front a the line at a fuckin' grub-salad bar or somethin', I mean them tryin' to fuckin' foil any a my plans or stoppin' me from doin' what the FUCK I want you stupid, pink-furred, ignoramus of a hoofbeast!
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The moon? And I don't ewen know what a year is, nor a thousand a them so that means absolutly fuckin' nothin' to me! And I'm not cranky! And who exactly would be sendin' me?
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Well, I don't hawe a birthday, I hawe a wrigglin' day and it comes once a fuckin' sweep. Which is longer than your earth huma--hoofbeast years. I'm STILL not fuckin' cranky you stupid fuck!
[You make him want to pull his hair out!!!]
.. I highly doubt anyone here could send me to the fuckin' moon, and I know WHAT a moon is, by the way.
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