Wednesday morning, room 303
Walter woke up to a very cold tongue on his face, which was pretty much the antithesis of what he'd been dreaming about. He pushed the eagerly wagging hellpuppy off of him and sat up. Today was his already planned Day of Dada really, totally not copying Jamie. We're just running out of Dada time.
He got up, threw on his clothes, and slapped a nametag on his chest. That was all the warning anyone was going to get.
[ooc: The progression of Fishgrenade's day of Dada starts here and is fully linked throughout.]
He got up, threw on his clothes, and slapped a nametag on his chest. That was all the warning anyone was going to get.
[ooc: The progression of Fishgrenade's day of Dada starts here and is fully linked throughout.]