Tenth Rocket Jump

[unlessitsafarm]

-Ladies and gentlemen, this is 849 Goldberg Street. And for those of you who are not already familiar with it, THIS is the home of the Soldier.

He is drunk. And so is muffled_noises. And they have pots on their heads.

What are they doing with pots on their heads? They are ramming each other.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is 849 Goldberg Street. And this is not unusual.-

Comments

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[muffled-noises.livejournal.com]

*Another loud CLANG and Pyro stumbles backwards. He catches a glimpse of something blue and tilts up the edge of his pot slightly.

...Then he sees Scout and, surprisingly, says nothing. No, no, he's far too interested in concussing himself to start a fight.*

[unless-itsafarm.livejournal.com]

-Soldier... has not noticed.-

[freakinblur.livejournal.com]

[Oh you think you guys can just ignore him? Pfffft]

What in the hell are you morons doin'? Like ya need any more brain damage!

[muffled-noises.livejournal.com]

*Now he stops again and stares.*

You don't have the balls to even do this.

[unless-itsafarm.livejournal.com]

-And Soldier just laughs.-

[freakinblur.livejournal.com]

A-are you freakin' serious? Ya mean I don't have the balls to be dumbasses like you?

[unless-itsafarm.livejournal.com]

This is how MEN bond, shorty. Run along and play toy guns somewhere else.

[freakinblur.livejournal.com]

Bonding. Right. Enjoy yer concussions, chucklenuts.

[muffled-noises.livejournal.com]

*Pyro chunks an empty beer bottle at Scout for good measure.*