[Hello everyone be greeted by Droog's unamused face. While he's been waiting around for certain plots to thicken, he's been concerned with one thing.]
Does any'a you know where someone could purchase a suit, but not just any suit. One for a pokeyman.
[The camera reveals a Sneasel, it doesn't look that amused that it's being filmed, or that it's
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Dude, you've got style.
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What does a man have if he doesn't have any class?
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Tock, camera.
[And then Tock turns the camera to look at Dave. Dave meanwhile is in a suit shop getting fitted for a nice suit. He's fixing the bowtie in the mirror, also in sunglasses when he looks over at the camera through the reflection.]
Not a man at all.
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So where exactly are you kid? Cuz this piece'a shit town doesn't have a respectable tailor or even much'a clothin' store at all. [Droog doesn't understand how these people live.]
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[A smirk.]
With a bit of bartering I convinced the lady of the clothing shop to help me pick out a suit.
[And it's a very nice suit at that. Solid black with a white bowtie and a red handkerchief. Broken record symbol cufflinks and a broken record symbol on the pocket of his suit. He looks rather dashing.]
I'm sure with a bit more smoothtalking I can have her help me pick out a suit for your traveling partner. I have a HootHoot that can send it as soon as possible.
[More talk with the lady off screen before she returns with a white tie for him and he begins to replace the bowtie.]
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[And up goes the eyebrow. Why the hell was this kid so quick to try and help him out? He didn't know this kid and yet he was offering such a favor.]
Is there some sort'a catch here kid? [Yeah he's staring at you with the greatest suspicion.]
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How does that look, Tock?
[There's a happy 'Chaaarrr' from Tock and he grins before looking at the camera.]
Just a kid with a love of style, my good sir. Name's Strider. Dave Strider, to be exact.
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I can appreciate a man with good tastes. [Dave, despite you being 13, your obvious tastes in fine clothing makes you a man. At least in Droog's eyes.]
If that's the case, then if you feel you are up to it, I need a black suit, red tie, and a matchin' fedora. A'course, Scarface ain't there for the measurements, but I'm sure the residents know the size of a Sneasel, considerin' how obsessed this place is with these little creatures.
And if I find so much as a stitch outta place. I will hold you personally responsible. I only except perfection.
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I promise you, sir, it will be cleaned, pressed, and perfect for Scarface, and if it's not I accept full responsibility. Isn't that right, Tock?
[A 'chaaarrr!' in response and he puts on a cool and calm expression towards the camera.]
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S'long as you realize there are consequences to givin' me an inferior suit.
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[And with that, feed clicks off]
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