[BACKDATED TO OCTOBER 21 (Before "It Came from the Dairy Aisle" Event)]
[PHONE(Morning, OPEN TO ALL)]
[ACTION - A(LOCKED TO HOUSEMATES)]
[Hey, Picky. Remember that drone father in your house when you woke up yesterday? The one with the nice blue Avery vest and grey slacks?]
[He's been replaced, and his replacement is currently down in the
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What's going on? Is this how it works when drones get replaced by real people?]
...you're... you're going to break the phone, if you keep doing that!
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Forsooth! Surely the baby bells would weep at such shoddy workmanship!
[He's still standing there with the receiver held high, though. Get a load of that lens flare.]
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He stares for a good ten seconds before speaking again.]
Uh. I'm Finch Twoson. I guess you're my dad, now...?
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[Wait. Wait, this guy thinks in puns, doesn't he? Picky's eyes go wide at the realization.]
I'm just a kid! I'm not a bird! And.. besides. That's what Mayfield does. It takes people from all over, and, and puts them in houses and makes them be families.
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[A beat.]
[Then it snaps to the right.]
[Then he looks back at Picky.]
Then the butts of assumption tell me that this is the field of possibilities you speak of!
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Yeah. Mayfield. That's what it's called. I don't know why...
What's your name?
[As he asks, he side-steps closer to the kitchen and peers in. Oh, there's the drone-mom, making breakfast. Guess this guy is the only new arrival.]
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I am the Monk of Key-Fu! Purveyor all that is pleasant, purging the unpleasantness from the planes of existence!
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Can I call you Monk? Or is Key-Fu better?
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You may call me Key-Fu!
[Just wait till Picky goes outside and sees that the household name is now "The Monks."]
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Okay. Key-Fu. Alright.
[He'll... get used to it.]
I think "mom" is going to have breakfast ready soon. And I don't think it's oatmeal today! We should... go eat?
[Did hero monks even eat breakfast?]
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Indeed! Only through partaking in cow's boob liquid may one be prepared to punch the sun!
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Wait! Wait, no! You're not supposed to drink the milk!
Or... or punch the sun. You're not supposed to do that, either....
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[He wasn't sure of the exact reasons why Key-Fu was insisting that milk was good... but he at least understood that was what was being conveyed. He had to argue against it!]
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... It is improbable! The putrid pugilists of unpleasantness have poisoned such delightful dairy?!
[Key-Fu's body isn't capable of all his normal antics right now, but the way the sun is coming in through the living room windows, it makes for a damn good background for the following hot-blooded display.]
Unforgivable! For this I must seek out the fowl foes and offer them a free ticket to Spiffyland!
[A free hand is held before Key-Fu, clenched into a fist. With that tone in his voice he could easily be some kind of hot-blooded mecha pilot, if it weren't for the fact he's still grinning. And crosseyed.]
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