tHrEe; phone | forward-dated to friday the 19th
[So with Jade having drunk one bottle of milk and Karkat two, Gamzee's finally managed to pay attention for long enough to put his foot down and demand that this morning's share be given to him. After all, with the mirthful messiahs watching over him, what's the worst that could happen?
The answer comes a few hours later. Gamzee's room, the living room, and the kitchen are in complete disarray, as if someone found a baseball bat and just clubbed the shit out of everything he saw. The troll in question, meanwhile, has managed to stop his rampage long enough to pick up one of the non-destroyed phones left.
Gamzee's voice sounds nearly unrecognizable from his usual drugged-out, dreamy tone; instead, it's sharp, abrupt, and furious, alternating between a low growl and an angry shout.]
You know, I be getting real motherfuckin' sick of this shit.
REAL MOTHERFUCKIN' SICK AS SHIT OF SEEING ALL MY MOTHERFUCKIN' FRIENDS KICK THE UNFUNNY BUSINESS NIGHT AFTER NIGHT.
Makes me get all my motherfuckin' sadness on to see them hurt like this.
MAKES ME WANNA MOTHERFUCKIN' BRING THE DARKEST OF ALL MOTHERFUCKIN' CARNIVALS DOWN ON THE SHITHIVE MOTHERFUCKERS WHAT BE MAKING ALL THIS ATROCIOUSNESS HAPPEN
until their heads burst like balloons filled with the brightest and harshest of motherfuckin' paint.
Honk.
HONK.
So.
MOTHERFUCKIN SO.
What the fuck are we gonna do about this?
[OOC: Gamzee's been hit by the hormone-free milk and will be snapping in and out of a milder version of his sober self (as well as other moods, but that has nothing to do with the milk, that's just Gamzee). He's still relatively sane though, so he's not going to try attacking anyone...not that it'd be very effective anyway since he's still a thirteen year old human.]
The answer comes a few hours later. Gamzee's room, the living room, and the kitchen are in complete disarray, as if someone found a baseball bat and just clubbed the shit out of everything he saw. The troll in question, meanwhile, has managed to stop his rampage long enough to pick up one of the non-destroyed phones left.
Gamzee's voice sounds nearly unrecognizable from his usual drugged-out, dreamy tone; instead, it's sharp, abrupt, and furious, alternating between a low growl and an angry shout.]
You know, I be getting real motherfuckin' sick of this shit.
REAL MOTHERFUCKIN' SICK AS SHIT OF SEEING ALL MY MOTHERFUCKIN' FRIENDS KICK THE UNFUNNY BUSINESS NIGHT AFTER NIGHT.
Makes me get all my motherfuckin' sadness on to see them hurt like this.
MAKES ME WANNA MOTHERFUCKIN' BRING THE DARKEST OF ALL MOTHERFUCKIN' CARNIVALS DOWN ON THE SHITHIVE MOTHERFUCKERS WHAT BE MAKING ALL THIS ATROCIOUSNESS HAPPEN
until their heads burst like balloons filled with the brightest and harshest of motherfuckin' paint.
Honk.
HONK.
So.
MOTHERFUCKIN SO.
What the fuck are we gonna do about this?
[OOC: Gamzee's been hit by the hormone-free milk and will be snapping in and out of a milder version of his sober self (as well as other moods, but that has nothing to do with the milk, that's just Gamzee). He's still relatively sane though, so he's not going to try attacking anyone...not that it'd be very effective anyway since he's still a thirteen year old human.]