It was a legitimate question, Samus thought. It wasn't often she woke up and found slabs of beef tied all over her body like a suit. She walked down into the kitchen and saw Tally doing the same thing.
"It's just a style of cow," the Special responded ooffhandedly, as if it were common knowledge.
"What?"
Tally tied a hunk to her thigh and cut the excess string with some scissors.
"I was listening to some old Earth music. One of the songs said 'beef is just a style of cow.' I thought we could live like the Rusties did for a day. Wear some beef."
Samus paused for a moment. She herself knew no Earth customs, she'd never even been to Earth. Why wouldn't this be normal back then? She'd heard worse.
"Okay. Pass me that chunk there, I want to make earrings."
The chain of swearing lasted long enough for Kaylee to flop herself down under a tree with a sigh, and to pull out a sandwich to munch on. "Maybe you should've read the sign, 'stead've just tryin' to tear into it," she mumbled, before biting into her sandwich.
Cid kept on cursing, unaware of the statement, until he finally spun around and gave the fence a hard kick--
The Riddler knew idiotic. Stupid just happened to be around him every second of every day. What, with his genius, this was no surprise. He had figured he knew every low that the lack of an IQ could bring, but this...
1,000 gumball machines invaded his warehouse. 1,000 machines and one confused and scared mook.
The Riddler couldn't say anything for the longest time, what would he say to this? What would anyone say to this? He stood with his head in his hand, seething in frustration. Finally he raised his gaze to the lowly peon and sighed.
"Joe...Silly, simpleminded, Joe. Question: Can you tell me what 1,000 gumball machines are doing here?"
Joe licked his lips nervously and looked around skittishly like a gazelle cornered by a lion.
"Uh...Uh...well, you see, I thought-"
"Now I highly doubt that thinking was any part of this process." He began to circle the poor Joe, twirling his question-mark shaped cane. "You see, I asked you to order 1,000 machine guns, Joe. Now what sort of translational mess could possibly have made 'machine
( ... )
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It was a legitimate question, Samus thought. It wasn't often she woke up and found slabs of beef tied all over her body like a suit. She walked down into the kitchen and saw Tally doing the same thing.
"It's just a style of cow," the Special responded ooffhandedly, as if it were common knowledge.
"What?"
Tally tied a hunk to her thigh and cut the excess string with some scissors.
"I was listening to some old Earth music. One of the songs said 'beef is just a style of cow.' I thought we could live like the Rusties did for a day. Wear some beef."
Samus paused for a moment. She herself knew no Earth customs, she'd never even been to Earth. Why wouldn't this be normal back then? She'd heard worse.
"Okay. Pass me that chunk there, I want to make earrings."
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WHY COULD I PICTURE THIS SO CLEARLY EVEN?!
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Danger! Danger! High Voltage!
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Cid kept on cursing, unaware of the statement, until he finally spun around and gave the fence a hard kick--
ZZZZZAP
"GODDAMNMOTHERFUCKINGPUSSYOFAFENCE--"
ZZZZZZZZZZZZAP!
Oh yeah. This was going to be a looong day.
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1,000 gumball machines invaded his warehouse. 1,000 machines and one confused and scared mook.
The Riddler couldn't say anything for the longest time, what would he say to this? What would anyone say to this? He stood with his head in his hand, seething in frustration. Finally he raised his gaze to the lowly peon and sighed.
"Joe...Silly, simpleminded, Joe. Question: Can you tell me what 1,000 gumball machines are doing here?"
Joe licked his lips nervously and looked around skittishly like a gazelle cornered by a lion.
"Uh...Uh...well, you see, I thought-"
"Now I highly doubt that thinking was any part of this process." He began to circle the poor Joe, twirling his question-mark shaped cane. "You see, I asked you to order 1,000 machine guns, Joe. Now what sort of translational mess could possibly have made 'machine ( ... )
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