Flip it Four Ways - Blue
Flip it Four Ways - Part One
“Dude, you get to be the TIME player? God DAAAAAAAMN! What kind of sweet pranks do you get up to with that shit?”
Dave Strider sat on the bed, which had Jackass: The Movie sheets on it. In trying to get through the house, he'd slipped on soap, fell down the stairs, landed on a skateboard, rolled out of the door, been caught by a volleyball net which hung over the precipice above the Land of Heat and Wind (a rocky plateau with some impressive sandstone monoliths about) and was now wearing a version of Four Aces Suited that had a criss-cross pattern of blue paint from said volleyball net. A few easy dodges of several hurled weapons that looked like they'd been alchemized from Nerf swords later he'd gotten to the awkward introductions, followed by the invitation up to this Dave Egbert's room to share an apple juice.
At which point he'd been subject to a bucket of water from atop the door, which Egbert had just laughed at. As to the apple juice? He stared at it for a few moments before putting it aside on the dresser. He knew what that had to be, and there was no way in hell he was falling for it.
“Dude, you don't use time travel for that juvenile shit. I mean, do you use your windy thing or whatever the fuck you call it to blow up Jade's skirts?”
Egbert stared at Strider blankly. “Windy... what? What's a windy thing? I can do windy things? And oh man that'd just be all sorts of fucking awkward! And she'd probably send the tentacles after me or something.”
He tapped his chin. “Dude, that said, I could totally finish my quest for the ultimate Unreal Air with a windy thing. I mean god DAAAAMN. You already fucked up my first plan to get it, though I guess the crazy purple Indiana Jones chick already told me it was a bad idea haha.”
Strider sighed. “Okay, what about the Quest Bed? You know about that yet?”
This stare was a good deal more guarded. “You mean the suicide pact o rama thing that John got put through thanks to the creepy gray chick? Man fuck no. I mean... my girl Feferi tried to convince me to make a crazy Rube Goldberg thing so I could SWAN DIVE into the most epic suicide of my life, but...”
He shook his head. “Couldn't do it, bro. Did you?”
“Don't know yet, he said, then absently took a swig of the apple juice.
Egbert laughed so hard he fell out of his chair at Strider's epic 'BLUH'. “Fuck YES! Prankster's gambit is so charged it ain't NEVER gonna come back down!”
One trip to the bathroom involving actually chewing on soap later, Strider pulled out the green disk, and dropped a vicious ear-worm of a techno-pop beat as he once again flipped turnways...
“Dude, you get to be the TIME player? God DAAAAAAAMN! What kind of sweet pranks do you get up to with that shit?”
Dave Strider sat on the bed, which had Jackass: The Movie sheets on it. In trying to get through the house, he'd slipped on soap, fell down the stairs, landed on a skateboard, rolled out of the door, been caught by a volleyball net which hung over the precipice above the Land of Heat and Wind (a rocky plateau with some impressive sandstone monoliths about) and was now wearing a version of Four Aces Suited that had a criss-cross pattern of blue paint from said volleyball net. A few easy dodges of several hurled weapons that looked like they'd been alchemized from Nerf swords later he'd gotten to the awkward introductions, followed by the invitation up to this Dave Egbert's room to share an apple juice.
At which point he'd been subject to a bucket of water from atop the door, which Egbert had just laughed at. As to the apple juice? He stared at it for a few moments before putting it aside on the dresser. He knew what that had to be, and there was no way in hell he was falling for it.
“Dude, you don't use time travel for that juvenile shit. I mean, do you use your windy thing or whatever the fuck you call it to blow up Jade's skirts?”
Egbert stared at Strider blankly. “Windy... what? What's a windy thing? I can do windy things? And oh man that'd just be all sorts of fucking awkward! And she'd probably send the tentacles after me or something.”
He tapped his chin. “Dude, that said, I could totally finish my quest for the ultimate Unreal Air with a windy thing. I mean god DAAAAMN. You already fucked up my first plan to get it, though I guess the crazy purple Indiana Jones chick already told me it was a bad idea haha.”
Strider sighed. “Okay, what about the Quest Bed? You know about that yet?”
This stare was a good deal more guarded. “You mean the suicide pact o rama thing that John got put through thanks to the creepy gray chick? Man fuck no. I mean... my girl Feferi tried to convince me to make a crazy Rube Goldberg thing so I could SWAN DIVE into the most epic suicide of my life, but...”
He shook his head. “Couldn't do it, bro. Did you?”
“Don't know yet, he said, then absently took a swig of the apple juice.
Egbert laughed so hard he fell out of his chair at Strider's epic 'BLUH'. “Fuck YES! Prankster's gambit is so charged it ain't NEVER gonna come back down!”
One trip to the bathroom involving actually chewing on soap later, Strider pulled out the green disk, and dropped a vicious ear-worm of a techno-pop beat as he once again flipped turnways...