[The video function turns on with a jolt, and on the screen is Tibarn's winged back. He's standing in front of what looks like
some sort of pig-faced alien kid, and the kid's covered in blood.]
[Oh, wait. That's barbecue sauce. That explains that grill-looking thing between them, and all the smoke.]Hey kid, take it over to the tables, alright?
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Read more... )
[Because he's never seen a grill and wow, look at that blood on those aliens. What sort of tomfoolery is going on over here? ]
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Hey, don't stand behind the--
[Oh damn, the guide is on. ...Well, he was due for a break anyhow.]
[...Nope. Don't know you.]
You don't have to worry about me. But thanks.
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Trust me. It isn't dangerous.
[Well, it might be if that gelatinous alien guy behind Tibarn who's leaning over it is flammable. Let's hope he's not.]
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[Seto is watching that with big wide eyes oh god]
U-Um that guy behind you he might...
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HEY! Not another one.
[He turns to Seto.] Hang on a second.
[Then he stomps over to the grill, and the flailing alien, and the horrified customers. He reaches under the table beside the grill while shouting.] HEY! You listening? Stop running already, you're going to hurt somebody!
[Then he takes a bucket of powder, and throws it at the alien. And the nearby customers. AND HEY LOOK AT THAT! It's out. See? That wasn't so hard. He tosses down the bucket and asks the powdered blob.] You okay? [It doesn't answer. But it's still standing... or something. That's better than the last one.] You're fine. Get cleaned up and you'll get some ribs on the house, alright? Right.
[....BACK TO THE GUIDE. Hi again.] Sorry about that. What were we talking about?
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...Are you sure the alien will be okay?
[He looks back to Tibarn and away from the grilled alien.]
I-It's fine. To be honest...I really don't remember.
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It's you I'm worried about. You're looking a little green, kid. You OK?
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Yeah, I'm okay. That's just the first time...I've seen someone be set on fire.
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He was asking for it. I keep telling their kind not to lean so close. I think they like the light, or something. Like moths.
[He glances over his shoulder. It's reformed from a puddle and is wiggling like jello, getting the flour off. See? It's fine. Tibarn shakes his head.] I give him an hour before he does it again.
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Maybe they don't understand our language.
...Wait, they're moths? Those are the night butterflies, right?
[He recognizes the the name, but can't remember what they looked like.]
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[...Is this kid serious?] No, they're not actually moths. It was a comparison.
Moths are like night butterflies, sure. That guy didn't look anything like one, did he?
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No, he doesn't. [or didn't.]
It must be hard to keep track of what's going on by yourself.
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[but anyway.]
I can handle it. The promise of food tends to keep people in line.
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Mm. Okay. I hope you have fun. The people eating seem to be happy.
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What's your name?
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