badfic_manor | Puff Pass 3 I think [Action] I am so SO sorry Santa

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Puff Pass 3 I think [Action] I am so SO sorry Santa

[So Badou awoke like most of you mannorians or whatever you're called did when you first arrived in this wondrous wintery wonderland of expensive crap, screaming babies and drunk couples. Except in a less sexy manner and there wasn't a dead hooker under the bed. It was magical, it was splendid, there were countless ways to rub up against some drunk (whether on actual booze or the highlights of mixtures of air pollution and those shoppers that kind of trip balls during this season) ladies and still manage to avoid their boyfriends, the free samples didn't taste like ass, and the lights were pretty. It was also cold as balls but sorta not that bad somehow. Upsides to every cloud of shit.

Unfortunately for Badou's jolly freckled ass the fun came to a complete halt once he engaged in a two toed one eyed one armed tango with a particularly disgruntled Mall Santa and the result was, well...]

Hohohooooooooooo MEEEEERRRRRRYYY DICKMAAAAAAASSS or whatever it is....I ain't gettin' paid to say it right, it's socially acceptable, eat me....

[If you listen, really listen, you can hear the traumatic memories the children fleeing from Santa's line are suppressing right at this moment. You'll find Badou, slightly bruised but none worse for wear in his Santa suit wedged with stuffing gaping out of the neckhole and sleeves because he's a skinny bastard, sitting with his booted feet thrown over the arm of Santa's elaborate chair and glaring daggers at the horrified Elves and various mothers making it their mission to get the hell out of his way]

Y'know, I didn't even hit the bastard that hard! He's a veteran, he could take more than a punch to that jolly gut! I even made it fair when I let him tie my arm up with his goddamn beard. Ya'll are lucky that lady cop was so hot and I'm so fuckin' nice.... [This is where you'll find him, if you want to find him, bitching at whoever is in armsreach. I really wouldn't blame whoever doesn't.]

HOOOHOOOHOOOO TELL SANTA WHAT YOU WANT YOU LITTLE SHITS! So I can tell you no. You don't need a fuckin' pony, what you need is braces.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Norrington was already extremely confused by the big city, more lights in one place than he'd ever seen or would probably see ever again, horrible smelly things called "cars," and overall way too many people (though at least they weren't pirates...OR WERE THEY??), but when he was wandering aimlessly through a mall and heard a familiar loud and uncouth mouth spouting off only the good Lord knew what in modern-day language, he knew it was going to be bad.

He looks around until he spots him: Mr Badou Nails sprawled out on the chair, dressed as an...old man?...in a red suit and stuffing poking out of the sleeves. This was certainly a sight.

James makes his way over. ]

Mister Nails... [ he says slowly in his typical uptight-wig fashion ] what on earth are you doing?

HOOOOOHOOOOHOOOOO WHAT ABOUT YOU LITTLE GIRL, YOU PROBABLY WANT THE BARBIE WITHE THE BIGGER TITS THIS YEAR, RIGHT?! [Badou is in the middle of scaring a pretty large puddle of pee out of a charming little girl who had walked past Santa's rage when he catches movement in the corner of his eye and that is all the distraction the girl needs in order to book it]

Hmm...outdated shit, a wig, a horrified constipated look...well if it ain't Slim Jim! Sup man? I'm uh....what am I doin? [Badou lets out a nervous laugh and adjusts some of the stuffing thats not near his balls because he doesn't need any help there okay, totally stalling]

I'm workin. Y'know that thing normal people do when they don't sit around an brush their hair all damn day. What about you? Come for the sales or just to see little ol' me? [Cue the batting of his eyelashes which is lost on a guy with one eye]

[ Did he just call him...outdated? Well, that part was true, but James didn't think he looked constipated. Hm. The redhead was probably just babbling delusionally, anyway. But the secondhand embarrassment he felt from even knowing the ginger who just frightened a girl to the point of soiling herself was staggering. ]

I don't brush my hair all day, if that's what you're insinuating. Don't worry yourself, I certainly wouldn't go anywhere to see you if I could help it. [ scoffs ] As it is, I'm just trying to take this all in. I'm not used to so many people in one place. ...or the place itself.

[Like the worst poo in the universe was trying to seize the fucking day, that was Norrington's face according the scriptures of one Badou Nails.
As compelled by this discussion as Badou is, he fishes a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his jolly red suit and lights up, ignoring the glares of the mothers and elves- sometimes they were the same putrid, nagging creature]

No need to be so shy man, I know Santa'll getcha something good this year. Don't go all blush-y on me, dawg. [Yeah Badou was going to get him a certain new background on his phone, so what? Er, Santa that is. So he sits there and inhales gratefully from the precious life saving cigarette] Maybe some new conditioner...or a blow dryer. So you like the change or what? Compared to where you're from it must be like a fuckin rave minus the tripping balls pa- ah no you dunno what that is either. We'll haveta work on that too.

[ Even though many men Norrington knows smoke, he's never been a fan of the act, and coughs slightly but mostly pointedly ~~oh god he's gonna get smoke all the hell blown right in his face on purpose, isn't he~~ at Badou, and purses his lips. It's almost as if the redhead's job is to piss off Slim Jim ~~and of course mun thinks it's beautiful~~. ]

Why would I want anything from this 'Santa' this year? Or any year? I'm perfectly fine with what I have, thank you, even if I cannot seem to operate it. [ Gestures to the phone in his hand ] I do not even know of this modern Santa tradition...why do young girls and boys sit on - of all people - your lap?

As for the change...it is certainly something that would take time to get used to. I will be more than content to return to the manor.

Yes, learning your speech will take time as well.

[Well Slim Wiggy Shady is just going to have to deal with the smoke possibly being blown (...) not too purposely in his direction. A guy's gotta cool down after such a shitty day, ok?] Cause free shit is the best kinda shit, duh! Christ, they don't got free things where you come from? Fightin' an scrappin' for everything is too much work. Huh, maybe that's the whole welfare thing, ain't it...[Chinhands] Makes sense, actually. Greatest invention besides the can.

[Also gestures...vaguely] Oh, that thing's gettin a fart stuck sideways for you? It's like your first time with a chick....an judgin by your...self, probably all times. You fiddle around an figure things out hands on. Want some help? It'll only cost ya a little. I'm feelin' generous this year. [Wistful sigh] Maybe its the suit, or these new cigarettes, or the season.

[Just the biggest damn sigh and an eyeroll] Basically this fat ol grandpa comes once a year an brings kids presents an stuff. Sittin' on laps is just for kicks an for show. It's unpleasant for brats an Santa's alike. An for me, y'know how little kids restrain themselves? I've probably been farted on seven times today! Fuck...so y'know....christmas? Winter Solstice? Uhhhh...eggnog snog?

[Snorting, Badou waves a hand in dismissal and shrugs] No worries man, you'll get the hang of it eventually. Probably. An if not we could always getcha a braintransplant. I'm sure we can find ya a peachy keen personality this time around~ Speech therapy too. Wig therapy as well.

[Hayato had just been ~~skulking~~ strolling ~~irritably~~ merrily along the mall trying to figure out what to get his few friends for Christmas. When he hears what most be the most spectacular butchery of a mall Santa ever.

So he lights up a cigarette and casually strolls over to watch the show. He had heard that they did some over-the-top stuff on the holidays in America... if that big-ass tree wasn't any indication of that... but this...

this was all kinds of spectacular. So he just leaned against the wall for a bit, smirking with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth to watch for a while before he bothered to say anything.]

Oi, Jackass, I think you're doin' it wrong.

[Not that he gives half-a-shit, which is carried in his tone, he just wanted to see if he couldn't push the guy's buttons some more.]

[Well Badou just happens to be in the middle of scarring more children and spurning the frigid rage of mothers everywhere. One in particular...] Look lady, don't hit the messenger with your shitty fake purse YEAH I SEE THE FAKE LABEL, NO NEED TO FRONT. YOU AIN'T HOT SHIT....I just told him the truth, Santa don't give a fuck about world peace. Maybe he'll bring the little shit a transformer, goddamn....Cuntatron or whatever...though with you I don't think he needs it much.

[It takes a minute but eventually the mother stops hitting him in the face with her purse and leads her child with the GIANT WET STAIN ON HIS PANTS away and in that glorious moment Badou straightens his beard, huffs and notices Gokudera]

....Ain't you a little big to be sittin' on innocent ol' Santa's lap? Go back to your sugar daddy an let the real big boys handle this.

[Hayato just scoffs and raises and eye with a cocky little smirk. Was this guy friggin' serious? Tch!

Just to keep up his hardened douchebag appearance he takes a nice long drag from his cigarette before bothering to give the guy a reply.]

Don't mind me, I'm just here for the show.

[Gokudera might or might not notice Santa's exaggerated scratching of his mistletoe'd balls without a care in the world for this poser and then....Badou inhales. Deeply. Sniff sniff. Sniff. Annnd a single sparkle-y green eye locks on to the cigarette in question, and so have a beaming Badou ready to make a new scene, leaning over ever so eagerly]

Heyyyyy little boy, Santa'll bring you an extra special present like...I dunno what you little bottom bitches like...maybe a new pimp or fish nets or somethin....if you spare ol' Santa a cigarette?

[Bottom bitches? Oh-hoooo... that is another nice long drag from his cigarette just to TEASE you, good sir.]

Sorry Cyclops. I don't make deals with skeevy old men that are as low on the food chain as you. I got standards.

[and blowing that lovely lungful of smoke riiiiight at Badou's face]

[All that gets either of them is a growling Santa!Ginger who leans over the side of the chair like some sort of rabid creature, be cautious of rabies as he snarls]

What?! You little shit, what fuckin' standards?! If you're lookin' for standards, Hot Topic is on the other side of the goddamn mall you fuckin' whipper snapper hard rock little....just gimmie a cig, I'm a hard workin' man! I've been here for houuuurrrs <[Probably about two and a half] an if I don't get my fix I think I'm gonna eat a baby. Maybe startin' with the closest one.

[He sneers, that's a hint]

[Gokudera cocks his head back and scoffs. This guy sure was shitty at begging, there's no fucking chance this guy is going to get shit outta him. But what would be the fun of bullying if he decided to be the bigger man and walk away?]

Alright Cyclops, you want a smoke that bad? Here, take this one.

[And he plucks the near-spent cigarette from his mouth and flicks it right into the Ginger-Santa's beard.]

MOOOOOOOOTHEROF DICKCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE [The reaction is immediate; Badou flails and bats uselessly at the cigarette as it smolders, the chair topples and slips out from under him- as do his feet which, as he falls in what feels like slow motion, Badou briefly prays connect with that damn kids' face]

SANTA IS DOWN, I REPEAT, HUGH G. RECTION RED IS DOWN! [Like a phoenix rising from the ashes Badou eventually crawls up from the floor much like a corpse and drapes his uselessl- sexy body over the legs of the chair which are now in the air] You piece of....soiled donkey dick! I'm gonna put so much cunting coal up your ass you'll be working in the coal mines! SECOND HAND PASSING MY FRECKLED ASS!

[And he passively thinks for a moment if he could make any good explosives out of coal... and then his brain kicks in.]

Sorry they don't believe some fat jack-ass in a suit comes down the chimney where I'm from.

[Well... at least it wasn't as much of a wide-spread idea as it was in the States. Not like this fucker needed to know that. Besides did this mother-fucker REALLY think he even believed that bullshit?]

Say whatever the hell you want fuck-head, I'm not the dipshit who got stuck in the red pigsuit.

[Instead of words Badou lets out a mostly intelligent garble of curses, whines, and complaints about dubstep, then grabs the nearest thing handy-- an ornament shaped like a chubby little trumpet player, where the fuck do these people get these things- and without much preamble he chucks it at the teens face.
Rage somewhat fizzled out into productive territory, he leans heavily upon the chair and snorts] Psssh, we don't believe in a fuck of a lot where I come from. Seein' is believin', an that bastard macking on hot mamas and aunts ain't proof enough. Who the fuck goes around eatin' cookies that could give you the shits when hot mamas are waitin? A douchebag, that's who.

[And just when that friendship of contempt and stingy dickholes had blossomed, Badou growls again and narrows his eye] Hey fuck your shit, dickcheese. I'm only in this cause of shitty circumstances, veterans that think they're hot shit, an' faulty economic promises. When you put your big boy panties on /then/ you can talk shit. TCH. Kids these days...

[And ornament effectively caught, he has had worse projectiles hurled his way. Though he can feel his own blood pressure start to rise. Where the fuck did this bastard get off throwin' shit at him! ~~Couldn't possibly be because he's being a total douchenozzle or anything like that~~.

HEY! It ain't my fault you're too much of a dipshit to just ignore the fake-people here! You wanna start somethin' Cyclops?!

[And this would be that little ornament being thrown BACK at the damn cycloptic ginger]

[Like di-...aynamite. Of course Badou doesn't nearly have as much practice as that, his forte is more the screaming sprinter. He plays off a cool and that obligatory know it all adult look, it takes a lot of effort not to put his pinky up to his mouth as he sneers] Well EXCUUUUUUUSE the fuck outta me Dildo Princess Peach, but prayin' an meditatin' ain't gonna help me ignore the flyin' fist of some old fart out to kill me. Get a new cult, an a better warranty. Why start somethin' you cant fi-

[It hits Badou square in the eye mid bitch and he curls into a full fledged rolling, flailing screaming... maneuver, complete with spittle] CALL THE REINDEER, I'VE BEEN HIT, BIG RED IS DOWN AGAIN, SOMEBODY GET MY CANDY CANE SWOOOOORRRD, PEPPERMINT REALLY STINGS YOU PIECE OF SHIT [This continues for about five minutes until he grabs a nearby wrapped present and lets'er rip, its on like Donkey Kong]

[And the present makes contact with Gokudera's head, but obviously in comparison to the massive beatings he's USED to taking, this is nothing. This guy seriously just became more effort than he was worth talking to. So how does a mature 16 year old deal with someone like that?

Well, probably not the way Hayato did, considering he just pulled a handful of dynamite out of his pocket.]

You wanna start some shit jackass? I'll fuckin' go.

[So Badou is just beginning some triumphant crowing because they are mature men, possibly with some interlude to some dancing sitting there on his ass and arm flails when Gokudera catches his attention. His elation deflates like a fake tit implant and he holds up his arms and squints at the Danger Danger High Voltage, bullshit flowing from his slackened worry flapping lips] Look man, I ain't startin' anythin' with your fuckin ass crackers. Especially not here. I just rented this piece of shit suit too, it's got a good record with little kid farts an piss without YOUR shit. Go take your blood pressure, brat.

[.....]

[Now, Elphaba could very easily just walk on and leave the scene to unfold by it's own means. But where's the fun in that?

Stepping past the horrified mothers and traumatised kids, a raised brow follows a smirk, both aimed at the impromptu santa]

Having fun...?

[Nope the image of Badou rubbing the marks of the rageful mother's purse which left indents on his face, his pouty, sulky face, is not something you can just walk away from without at least leaving a quip or two
That's what he's doing, that and patting his overstuffed pockets for a pack of cigarettes]

Hoohooohoooo Santa has alllll the fun when he's makin' out with your hot mamas an aunties! [Badou's still patting and sulking away and doesn't notice at first. Then, a blink.]

Oh, you're that one chick. So I don't gotta play it off, good, no this job fuckin' sucks! An y'know, I ain't even getting paid. It's for my civic duty or some dumb bullshit like that.

[And so, he leers, eyebrows a'wiggling] What about you? Wanna hop on Santa's lap an tell him what you really want?

[She folds her arms across her chest loosely, and smiles skeptically as she takes a few steps toward him]

You're really just going to sit here for hours on end? I can't imagine how boring that'd get..Is the Author making you or something?

[She settles for ignoring his other comment, and sits down on an upturned, oversized box made to look like a Christmas gift]

[He makes one of those obnoxious, totally gross sounds in the back of his throat, like a soggy nose drip gone wrong, and scoffs] Psssh fuck no, I'm plannin' on blowing this Popsicle dick stand on my next break. Don't tell the elves that though, okay? Tiny bastards, but together they can take even a guy like me down like donkey kong.

[Leaning back in his chair more comfortably, he folds his hands innocently in his lap. He'd find cigarettes later, his chatter and complaining was being encouraged so he must do something about it!] I'm only here to rack up karma, not that I need much...an' cause after that shit went down with the other Santa, they couldn't get another one. So here I am, bullied into shit like usual, jeeez...always the victim, never the prom king.

Rack up karma? I don't think the Author cares too much about that..If she can find a way to screw with you, she will..

CHRIIIIIIIIIIISTFUCK DON'T S-SAY IT LIKE THAT. Goddamn, if I wanted some divine intervention I'd have watched more of that special on t.v...walkin' on sunshine ain't got nothin' on all this. [At least she hasn't noticed or asked about the previous one armed Santa whose duty he has now] As long as I stay below the radar it don't matter none.

[She's just assuming he nicked the santa costume from somewhere and took the role because he got bored]

The more you try to stay under the radar, the more likely you are to get picked on; there's not a lot you can do to avoid her

[~~Troll face is a go~~]

[God this isn't a damn sitcom, not everyone has time to do that, jeez! NO ONE is that bored! Except maybe the Joker or something. Plus who can pull that off, really? Badou would admit, quietly, even hes not that gifted]

God dammit...sounds like one of them grandmas you just can't avoid on the phone. Even on the answerin' machine. It's a trap, man. Fuck...[Pitiful face a-go, that's for sure, and some pouting]

[ Dave observes from a relatively safe distance, both from this stuffed Santa and from any and all stampedes of parents with their traumatized children. This calls to mind the one time that Bro was a mall Santa, and he can't really repress the faint shiver that is not from the New York weather. Especially not since he spent most of his morning collecting proper winter clothes for his own freckled ass.

He quirks a brow, deciding it's safe enough to come closer, faint amusement quirking his pokerface into an almost smirk. ]

Gee, Santa, looking a lil' worse for the wear. [ He sniffs, and his nose crinkles almost immediately. ] And smelling like a shipment of cigarettes.

[All the while during this stealthy observation Badou is getting chewed out by an Elf about twice as tiny as himself, and the ginger looks about as bored as an opera goer, chin propped in his hand before finally] Look Dickler or Prancer or whatever the fuck your name is, I give the kids some cheer an let 'em wipe their boogies an tell me shit I don't give two squirts of piss about, what more do you want from me? Give me any more shit an I'll roll you into a cute little ball an put you into a reindeer's butthole.

[Completely and totally affronted, the Elf leaves with a huff and a kick to Badou's shins, leaving Badou to sulk...and finally notice the new approach-ee] If this is your way of butterin' Big Red up for a new box of KY or anal glass toy you're doin' a shit job of it, play boy. I'll have you know my unique scent is all the rage these days.

[ The smirk winds up turning into a bit of a grin as Santa's unhappy little helper delivers a swift kick to said Santa's shins, and he makes a mental note to find the Elf at some point and give him a high-five. Or a low-five, as it should be.

Dave's amusement stays with him as the angriest Santa since Bad Santa turns his attention towards him, and he cants his head a little with a soft snort. ]

Oh, fuck, no, Saint Dick. That shimmering cock was all I wanted this year. Whatever will I do to get back onto the Nice list? Lay prostate at your feet, as the most ironic ottoman to grace the east coast?

So you're into those....vampire cult things? Shiny cocks? Chriiiist, this generation ain't got no more sense'n...songs about back seats that don't involve panties on the floor.

[At that last comment Badou's face morphs into a degree of confused and reluctant expressions before he finally blanches and states] Leave my prostate alone, it ain't done jack shit to you. I only mack on hot mamas. An aunts. Forward little shit...

[He shifts in his chair and throws an arm over the back of it] You could get me another pack of cigs if you want back on the non shit list so badly.

[ Only the coolkid mask keeps him from grimacing at the mention of the Twilight series, but that comment about panties on the floor causes him to crook an eyebrow. ] Last generation didn't have shit for brains, either, so I don't know why you think this one would have a better selection to choose from. Anyone that reads those piece of shit books with an unironic appreciation for them needs their licenses to humanity revoked.

[ And then he tries so very hard not to snort loudly at that last comment, and he rolls his eyes smoothly from behind his shades. Only the way his eyebrows arch and shift really give it away. ] And here I am, swooning but never allowed to do more. Alas, whatever the fuck will I do.

[ His shoulders twitch in a shrug, though, and he leans against one of the fake decorations set up around the shitty throne Badou's basically gotten himself. ] Five years too early to legally attain cigarettes, and I ain't busting my ass to get them any other way, so sorry Saint Dick.

Siiiigh. [His casual chinhands gesture pushes his cheeks up in a rather comic move as he huffs; excuses excuses.] I woulda thought what, with the media rallyin' for n00ds an chain letters an rap music ya'll would've been a little less shitfaced but here I am, wrong. Whoddathunk it. Back to that Mayan calender thing, we can only pray.

[Have a sneer, Badou's got lots of that as well as snark] Go get one of those blowup dolls at HotTopic, I hear they're on sale. Maybe some day you can reach my level but until then practice young cockhopper.

So youuuuu're....[Badou does the calculations on his grimy fingers and squints] You're like a fetus, no fuckin' wonder you get shitty stuff for the holidays. You oughta get your mouth washed out with soap an coal up your ass, jeezuz....this season is about givin', goddamn.

[ He'll make all the excuses he can if that's the reaction he gets. ] You never know, the Mayan calendar's apocalypse might just be more of this generation's bullshit. Then you'd be eternally doomed to what was only a daily hunk of fuckery, spattered across a couple hours when you aren't holed up in whatever counts for your holiday sweatshop.

[ Dave is unfazed by the sneer; he's seen worse. ] One day, o' wise Dick-sensei.

[ Silence, as he observes Badou's counting. It's not that difficult of a math problem, but somehow Dave's not surprised. He huffs faintly, between amusement and faint disdain. ] Lil' more givin' than I'd want, thanks. You can keep your stockin' stuffin' coal to yourself, Claus.

Jesus GOD I'mma get so fucked up on eggnog if that old bearded prophet of doom guy holed over them books turns out to be right about damn meddlin' kids...Gotta give them Mayans the credit for them loincloths though, thats the foundation of the world now.

[A bit of a chuckle leaves Badou's lips] Dick-sensei. S'got a nice ring to it when it ain't little poser boys trynna say it...huh. Welp, as long as you're usin' your own goddamn money to fund your trainin'.

PSH! As if you're hot shit enough for Hugh G. Rections Holiday Specials. I ain't that bountiful an jolly. That much given sunshine ain't due outta my ass for another twenty cycles or somethin'. [He leans back and drapes his arm back over the chair, kicking his dangling feet idly] Stingy little shit. Y'know I was smugglin' cigarettes when I was your age already.

If it weren't cold as Jack Frost's balls out I would give credit where credit is due, but fuck the idea of wearing loincloths right now. [ He is a goddamn Texan, he is not made for this fucking weather, all right. The only reason he's out now is because he wanted to get warmer shit to wear, and not an almost ill-fitting jacket from his shorter best bro.

Dave snorts at that. ] Oh, no, Dick-sensei. You keep your money you earn from this little enterprise you've got here. You're gonna need it when mothers of snot-nosed, tear-stained youths present the psychiatrist's bill for their traumatic experiences. Catch a trip down to Tijuana.

[ There's that shit-eating grin again as Badou prattles on and then sulks, and he keeps his hands in his pockets while his elbows rest on the good ol' Rudolph he's leaning against. ] I prefer my organs intact, thanks. Fighting on rooftops with a collapsed and tar-infested lung doesn't sound particularly exciting. My Bro'd kick my ass if he found out I was smoking, anyways. [ Well, if he was alive. He goes quiet a moment, expression evening out. ]

Do I really look like some sorta cunting masochist dickbag? [Badou will raise this little shit one cocked eyebrow and the most skeptic of faces; wait no don't answer that question. As much as he bitches, he is lady lucks best bitch. I'm all for the freedom of expression but if its negative two degrees out there an your dick is sticking out to the point where Mother Theresa can see the blue tint then you're fucked in the head an the balls. I get enough shit from faulty space heaters...

Fuck you brat, even if I was gettin' paid for this I wouldn't go down to that shithole. Y'know what they do to gringos down there? I don't even wanna know what they'd do to a bonifide ginger. Gringo la Ginge-o, man. [He shudders, lower lip trembling at the though as he tugs the corners of his santa suit tighter around his skinny ass frame]

It ain't haha teehee in the sense that you're pretty sure you're gonna either get your ass shot up, piss yourself to death, suffocate or fall over your own feet cause your sidekick is a fuckin' prick zombie asshole. So no hah-hahs to be had. Stick to your day job. [Badou? Sulking on his life's work? Noooo, of course not! The shit eating grin the kid had wasn't doing his mood any favors either. Ah, but--]

Brother that rides your ass about cool shit like smokin, huh? I know that feel. [And for once, Badou's inflated and obnoxious tone is soft, his eye downcast; Memories, man. Fuck 'em.] Not that listenin' to reason ain't just as much fun.

Hey man, you're the one dressed up as Santa Claus. You try 'n tell me that doesn't take a fuckton of masochism to do, especially in a mall durin' Christmas season. [ Sorry, Dave's answering the question anyways with a sort of bored, flat drawl. But rather than commenting further, he lets out a faint sound of agreement, shoulders scrunching as he tucks the lower half of his own freckled face into the scarf around his neck. He doesn't care if he's indoors, the mere thought of having to go back outside in the New York winter is enough of a reminder. He does snort, though. ]

Gingers are hated wherever they go, dude. Don't matter if you go to Tijuana or England. Hell, even in Scotland you'd probably get mocked for those luscious carrot locks and the spotty skin disease. Least you'd get to join them in drowning their gingery self-depreciation in their booze, though, so there's that. [ He arches a brow smoothing over the top of his aviators on that second part, though, and slowly works it through his mind. Prick zombie asshole sidekick, huh. Well, after Sburb, anything's believable. So he just shrugs it off casually, and carries on. ]

Smoking ain't covered by the Strider's Code of Cool, at least not extensively. Bro did it sometimes, I'm pretty sure, but it's not exactly conducive to our lifestyle. [ Memories, indeed. But he carries on calmly, with less snark attached to his southern deadpan now. ] Lots of things factor into it, but I don't think you're ironic enough to hear the details this day, Dick-sensei.

[Badou springs into a proper(ish) sitting position in his chair, ass situated, and glowers at this little shit, narrowed eye and all which isn't too intimidating due to the usual stuff plus the suit] Yeah cause sunshine-y assholeness really involves this sort of shit. Get your head outta your ass, I'm only doin' this cause it's my civic duty. ....An cause the mall cops are watchin'. My next break, I'm blowin' this place. Figuratively. [His slightly agitated form as well as the erratic hand gestures that went with it only surge with the whole ginger bit]

Way to fuckin' rub it in, dickcheese. My soul stings a littl- I TOTALLY HAVE A FUCKIN SOUL TOO, OKAY? Anyway, that hurts, ouch. [If there was one thing Badou supported, its equal opportunity to insult the youths of today. Folding his arms over his chest he grunts and almost snarls, lips curled with distaste] My freckles are envied an MY HAIR IS MORE OF A FIRETRUCK RED THAN CARROT, FUCK YOUR SHIT, YOU COLORBLIND SHIT. [Badou was the type of guy to argue over eggshell white and jizz white if it meant he was right for once. His eyelashes lower and he softly admits-] I'd drink to that, though. Long as I ain't decapitated. Heads belong where they're at, goddammit.

...The fuck are you people, nuns? Your habits are a lil....loose, then. Look man I only stole holy water once, an maybe peed in it another time, but I don't deserve to go to hell yet. Sorta. [Sinking back into the chair, Badou folds his arms behind his head and instead of musing on old memories too, takes a gander at the security milling about way too damn close for his liking. Bastards. Like he was going to assault a kid in sunglasses, christ. That's totally different than assaulting one armed dichead Santa's ok. When he finally pipes up, he deadpans] Nope, listening to sob stories is only relevant when we're good an shitfaced an last time I checked fetuses....feti? Whatever, can't drink. [Because that's better than dwelling, right? Right. Lesson one]

[ Christ, this is amusing as fuck. And this guy reminds him, in a way, of Karkat. Hell, if Karkat were human that fucker would be a ginger, sure as shit. Angry, profane, capslock-induced fuckers, both of these guys. He snrks softly as the agitation flows from one subject to another, and he lets him carry on without a care in the world.

Dave's calm pokerface cracks a bit with the soul bit, and he ducks his head while his shoulders twitch with his faint chuckles. ] At least I can sympathize about the skin disease, but Christ, man. That shit ain't firetruck red. Fire, sure, but you are a fucking ginger through and through. Better'n Carrot Top, at least, with his white boy jerrycurl-fro genetic mutation. That is a soulless motherfucking ginger right there.

[ SNRK Jesus Christ. ] Shit, no. We ain't goddamn nuns. You want something to call us, we're rooftop ninjas. Need our health to be able to flashstep up to the unsuspecting so we can rip them new ones without wheezing and heaving everywhere, and we can't exactly stealth when we smell like ass. [ He rolls his eyes again at the sob stories bit, retrieving a hand from one of his jean pockets to wave dismissively at both Saint Dick and the security guards. He'll be fine, even if Badou does snap. He's the one doing the most damage, anyways. ] Please, sob stories aren't for coolkids.

I-IT AIN'T A FUCKIN' DISEASE, ITS A GIFT OF BEAUTY AN...CONNECT THE SEXY DOTS. Go to a goddamn ginger activist movement you gingerist asshole...AN IT IS FIRETRUCK RED! OR WRAPPIN' PAPER RED! OR WEIRD ASS SPORTS BRA RED! [Cue more babbling and hand gestures and even his feet kick off into the air a bit, that's how agitated he is. Nice going, bucko, the first time Badou's blood pressure has been this high in ages AND ITS NOT EVEN ABOUT CIGARETTES!] ....I'm gonna take that as a compliment, but you're still kind of a douche.

[There might be some pouting but he continues on, the subject of this Gingercabra too good to pass up] That motherfucker is a creature of destruction an will only bring about the fall of the world. Or so I heard in the national geographic. Satan farted him out an now we gotta put up with his shit. Why can't we just blast him right in the ass with sunlight or something, fuck...

[He strikes his fist against the arm of the chair childishly and glowers, as in hint hint shut the fuck up I'm totally serious you shitfaceASS] So....you're weeaboos. That's all you had to say man, you ain't gotta talk like you're all cool and shit, I get it, go cry on one of your body pillows, jezuz...AN /YOU/ SMELL LIKE DICKASS, SO FUCK OFF. [The smooth jab is accompanied by Badou's middle finger, classy, and ignorant of the po-po who merely scoff and keep on a'patrolling
leaaaans back in his chair again, cool as can be] I'll keep that in mind the next time I see one, then. [snooooooort]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Puff Pass 3 I think [Action] I am so SO sorry Santa

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[action or snarky words or whatever man I don't even know]

[action] snark and wigs that should be our motto, our new shop the grand opening is cumming soon

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I just wanted to let you know this is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

fjdioa you are the most beautiful creature for even replying to this x0x0x0

NO YOU oh my god three comments in and I want no other angry ginger in my life.

a-aaah >///< I'm swooning~ this ginger is yours to tortu- I mean dote on

Oh good because Badou calls to Dave's need to troll the fuck out of people.

As if Badou gets anything BUT trolls- hes also going to shit a bit when he hears trollboys name

Dave Dave Dave Dave Dave.

NOOOO, CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

DAAAAAAAAVE. At least they can snark at each other.

LALALA CANT HEAR~ this is true, and bond over possibly dead siblings. Damn.

ahahaha sob it's true.

ugu be still my heart

u////u

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