[Even with that new area of available floor space, a man can only stay in the same apartment for so long before...leaving it. And even Usopp, invested in testing dials and less than eager about running into potential psychopaths as one can get, is but a mere man. So what does a man do when he's going out and about for the hell of it
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HEEEEY!
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[Respond in kind, they say.]
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[He gestures expressively toward the egg section.]
Are you gonna stand here all day? Pick one; move on. It's an easy concept.
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H-hey! I can't just pick any eggs like everyone else does! They have to be the right size and shape and weight or they won't work!
It's a delicate PROCESS!
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Oh? [He quirks an eyebrow at the guys emphatic reasoning.] For whaaaaat?
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The kind that can't just depend on- on mindless punching and slashing to get the job done! [Pausing for a beat.] AND IT'S NOT LAME! AND THEY'RE ROTTEN EGGS. [Once more.]
AND I DON'T JUST USE EGGS, I MAKE ALL KINDS OF AMMO!
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I see. Well, that sounds effective...if you're out defending some kiddy tree fort!
VOI! WHAT ELSE DO YOU HAVE; A DAMN POTATO GUN? [He points a finger at the guy.] Tell me now because I'm checking out the produce next, and I don't want to run into you and your weirdness there.
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[This guy...this 'voi' guy...Usopp seems to be falling victim to an inner explosion of shame and rage. He'd faced armed marines with such battle tactics, violent mermen, legions of zombies, and he was being mocked with a potato gun?
It would be admittedly easier to prove the strength of his weaponry if he'd had Kabuto with him. However, he only has his old slingshot in his pocket right now, for both the sake of subtlety and the fact that he's yet to check Kabuto's limits in this place. After this inner explosion, he has a moment of indecision.]
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You're...You're lucky I DIDN'T make a potato gun! And you're lucky I don't have any of my boshi yet! AND WHO'S THE WEIRD ONE HERE, YOU- [Sanji and Zoro made this look so easy, but it really isn't. And he's supposed to be good with his imagination to boot. Back to the old standbys, then.] YOU JERK!
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HAHA! HEEEEEY, TRASH! [And he goes and grins one of his mentally unstable grins.]
Was that a threat?
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What exactly was he into here and how could he get himself out of it?]
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