001; video/action: new bark town; adventure time;
[when the video feed turns on, there’s a hassle in the background, a burst of flame, some frantic jabbering in the background. a dark-skinned lad with a worried expression gestures at a sleepy camel in tow. the camel sneezes. there is fire. the Mom, her expression pleasant, is reaching for a broom. his voice filters through the speakers, frantic--]
But ma’am, you don’t understand! The camel, it’s sneezing fire! Is it allergies? No, shouldn’t this violate some kind of a safety hazard--?
[meanwhile, in the background, a redhead, smaller than the tanned kid, is fussing about, opening drawers, peeking in cabinets, turning over jars and looking underneath various furniture. he’s followed around by a tiny, fat, blue thing, picking up discarded items, sniffing at them and checking if they’re edible, then hiding them in its furry skirt-thing. they’re both not paying any attention to the flaming camel. why? because there is something much more important to do.]
Oi, Jackal, stop bothering Mom about the camel and help me find marshmallows. We can totally roast them every time that thing sneezes!
[the dark-skinned lad double-takes, makes a choking sort of sound, and turns to his companion. Mom is smiling.]
Bunta, what are you-- [a sudden, angry, scraping sound, the texture of a broom across a countertop, and Jackal throws up his arms, eyes wide] No, ma’am, please, put down that broom! Ma’am--
Uh oh, trouble!
You think?! Door, door, door--
[the roar of a mother, reclaiming her kitchen, because some things are universal. the broom swings through the air. the video catches the tail end of two teenagers, a camel and a … furry bear cub thing as they careen out the door, the redhead victorious with a jar of cookies tucked under his arm like a trophy (a soft echo of ‘dou, tensai-teki?’ in his wake.)]
OUT. Out, out, out, out, out--
[aaaaand feed cuts]
[ooc; BOTH thickfat AND remothering ARE GONNA REPLY. THREADJACK EVERYWHERE. ]
But ma’am, you don’t understand! The camel, it’s sneezing fire! Is it allergies? No, shouldn’t this violate some kind of a safety hazard--?
[meanwhile, in the background, a redhead, smaller than the tanned kid, is fussing about, opening drawers, peeking in cabinets, turning over jars and looking underneath various furniture. he’s followed around by a tiny, fat, blue thing, picking up discarded items, sniffing at them and checking if they’re edible, then hiding them in its furry skirt-thing. they’re both not paying any attention to the flaming camel. why? because there is something much more important to do.]
Oi, Jackal, stop bothering Mom about the camel and help me find marshmallows. We can totally roast them every time that thing sneezes!
[the dark-skinned lad double-takes, makes a choking sort of sound, and turns to his companion. Mom is smiling.]
Bunta, what are you-- [a sudden, angry, scraping sound, the texture of a broom across a countertop, and Jackal throws up his arms, eyes wide] No, ma’am, please, put down that broom! Ma’am--
Uh oh, trouble!
You think?! Door, door, door--
[the roar of a mother, reclaiming her kitchen, because some things are universal. the broom swings through the air. the video catches the tail end of two teenagers, a camel and a … furry bear cub thing as they careen out the door, the redhead victorious with a jar of cookies tucked under his arm like a trophy (a soft echo of ‘dou, tensai-teki?’ in his wake.)]
OUT. Out, out, out, out, out--
[aaaaand feed cuts]
[ooc; BOTH thickfat AND remothering ARE GONNA REPLY. THREADJACK EVERYWHERE. ]