Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27050484-20161225135842/@comment-27661770-20161229195123

The red robot punched its way out of its crate.

The thing just vanished in a cloud of darkness, twisted Irish laughter ringing out.

The M-shirt stood up and looked around.

"Where the dick am I?"

W-shirt, meanwhile, had other questions.

"Molly? ...where's Molly? MOLLAY! ...Oh. Mark. You look, uhhhhh..."

"Shut your ass, I know."

"...where are we?"

"HOLD THE FUCKY-DICKS UP IS THAT TINY BOX TIM"

And it was.

The floating crate burst into splinters spontaneously. A black rabbit was floating.

The badger groaned.

The crow simply vanished out of its box, and on top of it instead.

The purple skeletonj looked down at his hands.

And the golden suit for a green murder grunted. How was his son doing? Possibly the reason "Vincent" had gone into the m,urdering business. Perhapos two fathers had worked together. Perhaps not.