When the door opens, it opens to a warm and gorgeous San Francisco landscape. A man who is yelling something down the road while walking backwards enters.
"I told you, Natalie, I don't -- "
And that's when the door closes.
Monk stands there and stares at it for a few moments, just to make sure it doesn't go anywhere. He counts, silently: One, two,
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Comments 49
"Good day, sir," he says.
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-- he bites his tongue. Literally.
Ow.
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"Not at all," Monk says through his teeth, forcing a smile. His cheeks are starting to hurt. "Nice day, isn't it?"
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Mr. Gumby is here to help.
He thrusts an arranged (read: damaged) bouquet at the newcomer. "Welcome!" he bellows. "Would you like a nice flower?"
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"Uh. I'm allergic," he says, blinking. "But... thank you anyway?"
The blinking is then followed by more blinking.
[ooc: OH MY GOD AHAHA LOVE!]
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Gumby blinks back.
Maybe the fellow didn't understand him.
Perseverence will win the day, however. That's one of the Gumby family mottos. (Along with "Damn the Belgians" and "I am an expert.")
This time he shakes the bouquet a little harder. Some slightly rattled petals litter the floor. "FLOWERS. THEY'RE NICE."
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Okay, CRAZY.
"Yes, but they make me sneeze and my eyes get all watery and STOP SHAKING THEM you're getting pollen all over."
Another step.
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Hence why the psychologist Ghostbuster was doing some eyeing as he grabbed some coffee and food.
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OOC: (HIIIIIII!!!!!! *waves*)
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"Of course it's a good idea."
Even though it wasn't really Monk's idea, he's going to pretend it was.
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