[Hello, Ricardo Street. Were you enjoying your nice, quiet morning? Well, you might've been, before that FURIOUS SCREAM LIKE THE SOUND OF HELL BEING OPENED resounded from 508. Because little Frances has woken up, and she is not pleased. Not like she's ever pleased to begin with. To those who are fortunate enough not to live within a two block
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[He moved slowly, carefully. Allowing the facade of the wary and afraid six-year-old to take over as he exited the room. He looked for the noise and upon it, large eyes turned larger in worry and lips opened slightly in confused despair before he began to speak. His voice was quiet, shaking as he did so.]
I-I don't think they're here.
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I-I'm sorry, I don't know any of those things... But I'm Selim Bradley... from a country named Amestris in the 1910s.... I don't have a sector, but your clothes. [Head-duck.] We're all stuck in them and kinda... trapped here.
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WHY ARE YOU YELLING?
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...[Let's try disguising our voices!] No somebodies here! They're all back at the treehouse! Especially that Numbuh 4, he's nowhere around here!
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great
she's officially in Hell.] Numbuh 4...
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Numbuh Eighty-six
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Hold on a minute, Numbuh Eighty-six. There ain't no MoonBase here, there isn't even a treehouse. And we've all been kidnapped.
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