(Untitled)

[copyblob]

So today, there's a little pink blob on the farm. It's pink. Also, a blob.

The narration promises that it will probably not envelop and digest you in its glutinous depths.

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[truth_sometimes]

There is a blob in front of him.

He has a cane.

Poke. Poke.

C'mon, anybody'd do the same thing.

[copyblob]

Poke poke poke D:, House. D:.

"Diiiiiiiiiiitto," it says reproachfully, and turns into his cane in self-defence.

[truth_sometimes]

"Okay, even for around here, you're weird."

Pause.

Grudgingly: "Sorry I poked you. Can you not be my cane now? She'll get jealous."

[copyblob]

Canes... don't have ears.

Alas.

On the other hand, this makes them not much fun to be, even when in dire need to not be poked. So Ditto becomes its lovable blobby self again, and peers up at House with its adorable buggy little eyes.

"To?"

[truth_sometimes]

"Hello to you too, creepy little blob."

[copyblob]

"To to to to ditto."

Ditto attempts to slide onto House's shoe.

[truth_sometimes]

"Hey, snotball. Off the footwear, it's more expensive than you are."

[copyblob]

But but but it's shiny! Ditto wobbles at House in a deeply hurt manner.

"Diiiiiii!"

It's still on the shoe, though.

[truth_sometimes]

He raises his cane threateningly. "I'll poke you again."

[copyblob]

...

"Diiii." Really, that tone would melt a heart of steel.

Ditto backs off the shoe, forlornly.

[truth_sometimes]

"Fine."

Sigh.

Very awkwardly, he leans down and holds out a hand to the blob.

"Do you eat? I can get you into the kitchen and feed you something."

[copyblob]

Hey, House.

Did you just say 'eat'?

"Diiiiiiitto!" Slide forwards beam best-friends-forever! "To ditto!"

[truth_sometimes]

House rolls his eyes.

"You pee on me and I'll punt you into the next state," he says, picking Ditto up and cradling it against his side while he limps kitchenward.

[copyblob]

Snuggle snuggle snuggle "Toooooooo."

It's rather like being hugged by an overfriendly plate of jelly.

[truth_sometimes]

"Great."

OH LOOK KITCHEN.

He sets Ditto down on the counter and opens the fridge, peering at blob, food, and blob again.

"I don't suppose you can add enough syllables to your vocabulary to tell me what you eat."

[copyblob]

"To," says Ditto apologetically.

Then its eyes widen, and its mouth contracts into a little semicircle of glee. Wait. Wait wait wait. It knows how to get more syllables!

House, how do you feel about a grinning doppelganger sitting on the kitchen counter?

"What are you and where do you come from! Pee on me creepy little blob!"