ONE HUNDRED TWENTY

[tehpuck]

[Voice Post | | Accidental]

[Robin's voice is slurred, mumbling to himself and anyone around, as it wanders into the path of the computer's recording device. He's been fiddling around with the thing for the past few hours, in between drinks, he only now finally gets it to work, if not on the setting he'd wanted it.]--'ll burn a hole in the- in

Comments

[tehpuck]

Mmnnnh?

1/3

[tehpuck]

It's not an uncommon occurrrr... occer...

2/3

[tehpuck]

Ocker... aler... akh...

[tehpuck]

Happens often enough. Piiiiiiiick your jaw back off the floor, now.

[tehpuck]

What occurrence? You know, there's a boutsokefalos volcano outside.

[tehpuck]

And it's raining- What did you say? Ish-... It's erupting ketchup.

AS HE SHOULD BE.

[tehpuck]

[More slurred mumbling and multilinguistic profanity is the answer to what you think, Arion.]

N-no, don't! It'll- you'll... burn. Burn that way.

[tehpuck]

Yes, as molten rock has been known to, Kolos.

[tehpuck]

D-don't you know anything? It's the language of scholars, renowned basis of the [And then there was unintelligible language. Or, who knows, another language... possibly one Robin's just invented.]