[The feed turns on to the outdoors and three very angry aliens staring down Sokka. The boy, in turn, frowning up at them with a brush in hand at their upset expressions. Whatever has been going on suddenly becomes obvious--]
My flimsiloops do not branch that way!
Uh--
[Sokka tried to speak but the one resembling an oddly large seal with what may be a
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You hate it, don't you?
[grump.GRUMP.GRUMP. everyone's a critic.]
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I don't hate things. Hatting takes too much effort and stress, is not good for my skin.
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