#but that doesnt mean that sewing machines dont want to kill me. they do because all of them are out for blood i swear

[muirneach]

to illustrate the kind of sewer i am i use child size crayola craft scissors for literally everything from cutting fabric to cutting my threads. i have fancier scissors but i forget to use them. i nearly exclusively use embroidery and tapestry needles when hand sewing cause i inexplicably don’t own any normal needles. i use my stepmothers terrible sewing machine that needs to be rethreaded every time you start a new stitch. i’m a quilter but never cut a good square in my life because i never measure unless i have to. and despite all of this on wednesday i’m starting a college course on industrial sewing and pattern drafting. lord pray for us sinners (self taught sewers) now and at the time of our death (being thrown into the deep end of sewing)

[angrylizardjacket]

ask your destiny to dance [16] {Roger Taylor}

[masterpost]

“I can’t speak to her.” Roger’s got his head on a bar in a pub that’s not Ash’s.

“Can I go back to pretending I don’t know what was going on?” Brian asks, taking a long sip of his drink and gazing out at the crowd. It’s been over a week since Ash had stayed over, and they hadn’t seen her since. It’s not like she’d even asked about him, or made a move to contact him; sometimes they go a full fortnight before seeing one another, but Roger’s been fretting for almost eight days internally, and for the past twenty minutes externally, since he’d finished his first drink.

“She said she loves me.” Roger groaned, lifting his head to weakly order another pint. 

“From what you’ve told me, she wasn’t even fully conscious; it’s not like it counts.” Brian had never seen Roger downright distressed like this, it would be funny if it wasn’t bordering on annoying.

“No, that means she was extra honest,” Roger groaned, downing half his beer in on go, to which Brian could only roll his eyes.

“Or she was still asleep and thought you were Jack Nicholson.” After a beat, Brian goes back to watching Roger brood over his glass. “Boo hoo, Rog,” he shoved the blonde lightly, to which Roger just leveled a glare at him, “a girl you’ve been seeing for months maybe has feelings for you. It’s not like it’s the end of the world.”

“It’s only been since I broke up with Kristin,” he’s adamant about that and Brian lets him have it, for now. In retrospect, he feels like an idiot for not seeing it sooner; Brian’s not sure when it started, but it’s definitely a lot longer than Roger’s willing to admit. “And it doesn’t mean nothing, but it also... it’s never meant something. Like it’s something but it’s not something. It’s just fucking around and having fun.” And Roger swivels on the bar stool, joining Brian in looking out over the crowd, before they spot Freddie crashing through the door, making a beeline for them once he’d spotted them.

“Alright, what did I miss?” Freddie asked, though the other two were quiet as he ordered a beer. Before either could get a word in edgewise, Freddie props his chin on his hand on the bar, and announces; “Roger you look like shit, what’s wrong?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s in love with Ash, and he thinks she’s in love with him.” Brian says blithely, and Freddie nods with understanding as Roger tells them to both sod off, and he stalks through to join the crowd on the dance floor. “She said she loved him in her sleep.” Brian explains, taking the chair Roger just freed, sliding into place beside Freddie.

“I’ve never seen him this worked up about someone before.” Freddie admitted, and Brian nodded in agreement, the two of them barely able to see his blonde hair for the crowd, and they lost sight of him soon enough.

“What do you think? Has Ash said anything?” Brian’s gaze slides to Freddie’s who just rolls his eyes.

“I think my dear Ash has never in her life loved a man who’s deserved it,” Freddie mused, though his lips twisted into a smirk, “that’s not to say she’s a saint, far from it, but compared to the others, Roger is a breath of fresh air.” 

“Isn’t that a sad thought.” Brian said faintly, before heaving a sigh. “Well, I know we haven’t been here long,” he got to his feet, finishing off his drink and looking around for his housemate, “but if I don’t drag him home he’s going to do something stupid in his current state.”

“Like that pretty, brunette thing over there?” Freddie asks, pointing to where Roger’s already got his lips on a wavy-haired brunette at the side of the room. Freddie’s pretty sure he sees Brian’s soul leave his body for a moment, and watches everything play out like a terrible Shakespearean comedy for which he was the only audience member.

“He’s a danger to himself.” Brian takes Freddie’s drink from his hands and takes a long gulp before passing it back, though Freddie doesn’t seem likely to complain.

“He seems rather fine,” Freddie watches Roger go in for a hickey on the girl with a morbid, voyeuristic interest, taking another sip of his drink, “and you know he and Ash aren’t technically exclusive.” 

“Yeah but there’s three options here; Ash finds out and gets pissed and I have to hear about it because apparently now that I know I’m all in on this disaster,” Brian lists on his fingers with a theatricality Freddie had rarely seen from him before, though he’d rarely seen Brian this exasperated before, so perhaps it was merely that, “two, Ash isn’t pissed, sleeps with someone else, and Roger gets pissed because he’s in love with her-”

“Which is unfair, what a tremendous double standard.”

“Yes, we all know Roger’s a hypocrite.” Brian sighed, casting a glance over his shoulder at Roger, before turning back to Freddie.

“And three?” The other man prompted, and Brian picked up his empty pint glass.

“I kill him with this glass because I’m sick of his sulking.” He says bluntly, and Freddie’s all for the third option, but he begrudgingly helps pull Roger away, to which the drummer complains the whole time.

“Where are we going?” Roger demands to know when they head in the opposite direction of his apartment, a sentiment that Brian mirrors, though he doesn’t seem inclined to question Freddie’s direction outright. Freddie always had a plan. The man in question wrapped an arm around Roger’s shoulders.

“You’re going to confront your problems, Rog.” He sounds so decisive, as if it wasn’t a plan he’d come up with as they were leaving the bar, and Roger tries to scramble his way out of it, but Brian’s fed up enough with Roger’s complete inability to do anything but run from his problems that he’s willing to take Roger’s arm in an almost iron grip.

“It’ll do both of us a world of good.” Brian tells him as Roger glowers at his housemate.

“You don’t get to decide what’s good for me; what’s good for me was that girl at the bar, she smelled nice and was about three minutes away from banging me in that bathroom.” Roger snarled, wrenching himself out of their grips, though he didn’t run this time, crossing his arms over his chest as he walked with them.

“Rog, we’re not gonna let you ruin a good-” But Brian’s gentle sigh was cut off by more of the blonde blustering.

“That’s so presumptuous!” He stopped in his tracks, scowling between both of his band-mates. “You’re both wankers, selfish fucking wankers. This is kidnapping.” He snaps.

“Fine; if you want to leave, we’re not stopping you.” Freddie offers, gesturing freely at the path behind them. “We’re just trying to help.” 

Roger stomped the entire walk to Ash’s apartment. 

“What the fuck, guys.” She opens the door with her hair in a messy bun, wearing a pair of sweat pants and a ratty, oversized Beatles shirt. “How did you get in?” 

“Your RA let us in; sorry for the interruption, just had to deliver this idiot.” Brian gave Roger’s shoulder a nudge. Roger is looking at anything but Ash. His latest drink had hit him about the same time as he got to her block, and now that he can smell the vanilla candle she likes to burn in her room just beyond her, he just wants to curl up and go to sleep under her duvet. Or fuck her. He’s not quite sure.

“Can I return to sender?” She asks without hesitation, and Roger rolls his eyes. Freddie shoves him forward.

“No.” 

Ash doesn’t move, just frowns as Roger stumbles into her space, and she’s automatically got a hand on his chest to steady him. Roger doesn’t seem like he’s there completely of his own free will, but he doesn’t move away from her, even as both Brian and Freddie leave, muttering something about him being ‘her problem now’.

“Care to explain?” She asked, gently walking him backwards and closing her door behind herself. The two of them make their way to the common area, and Roger sits up on the kitchen counter as Ash pours him a glass of water.

“Not really.” He said, sipping the water loudly and swinging his legs so his heels kick the cupboards below. Ash looks like the very sight of him exhausts her, but she rests her hands on her thighs, pressing herself against his legs to still them. “We can fuck whoever we want, Ash.” He says, seriously, and he sees the exact moment she realised the reason for his forced meeting, and he watched her expression fall.

“Yeah of course.” She agrees, crestfallen expression turning quickly to faux apathy. “Did you have fun?” But her heart wasn’t in it.

“They pulled me away, brought me here before anything really happened.” He huffed, taking another long sip. Ash stepped away, yawning loudly and sinking into a chair at the dining table. After a beat, Roger hums thoughtfully. “Ash, what do I mean to you?” And it’s so nonchalant it actually hurts Ash a little.

“I think that’s a really shitty thing to ask right now.” Her answer is automatic, she can’t look at him. “And I think you’re drunk.” 

“Ash...” It does register in his mind that he’s said the wrong thing, and it breaks his heart to see her too tired to repress her emotions like she usually would in this situation. Perhaps she assumes he won’t even remember this tomorrow. “Ash, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah, I know.” She says softly. “You’re always sorry, and I’m always sorry, and there’s always someone else that feels like a mistake, even though we don’t technically need to apologise.” Shaking her head, she sighs deeply. “This isn’t the time for this conversation.” She admits, and standing, she takes his hand. “Come to bed, Rog.” 

When they’re back in her room, she pulls off her sweat pants and offers them to him without even thinking about it, and he’s quiet, forlorn when he takes them, changing into the borrowed pyjamas. Ash is already tucked into bed when he turns back, back to him, pressed as close to the wall as she can get with her head pillowed on her hand, not even attempting to co-opt some of the pillow for herself. There’s sewing equipment out, obviously still in use in the corner of her room, a blouse half sewn and still in the machine where it was left when it’s creation had been interrupted by a knock at the door.

When he slides into bed beside her, reaches out to rest a hand on her shoulder - an apology? a reassurance? just a need for human contact? - she shrugs him off, murmurs a quiet ‘don’t’. 

“I panicked.” They’re back to back, and the bedside lamp has been turned off. Roger isn’t even sure if Ash is still awake. He speaks into the silence, made honest by the hour and his inebriation. “You told me you loved me and I panicked.”

“Roger... I never said that.” Ash’s voice was confused in the darkness, and Roger feels like his whole world has fallen out from under him. He’s spent over a week considering whether or not she’d remember; if it had been real, whether she’d really meant it, but he’s never quite sure which answer would hurt more.

“You... were mostly asleep.” He admits, and he can feel the way Ash sighs heavily, the shift of her back against his as she tries not to hear it.

“Wow, imagine what kinky shit you and the girl from the bar would have gotten up to if I’d meant it.” She just sounds tired, as though she was trying to end the conversation, as though she hadn’t just shattered Roger’s heart. After a beat, she laughed humorlessly. “What are we doing, Roger?”

“I think Brian’s right.” And his words are enough to startle a weak laugh from Ash. “I want this to be about more than sex, I think.”

“You’re drunk and panicking; don’t worry, I’ll still work with the band if this goes south.” Ash says. Roger won’t take that, can’t let himself fall into the trap of panicking like he’d already fallen into that night. Turning, Roger presses his lips to the back of her neck, and Ash doesn’t like to think about how good it makes her feel.

“I’m sorry-” He tries, but she cuts him off.

“I heard you the first time.” Voice terse, she crosses her arms awkwardly over her chest. “Roger the idea of being with you fucking terrifies me.” She admits, raw and honest, glad he can’t see how conflicted she was. “You were so worried that I was in love with you that you almost slept with someone else, and for what? Were you worried you were losing control of your life? Didn’t want to be tied down?” Roger’s got an arm on her shoulder, rubbing comfortingly as she speaks, and he can feel her shaking.

“I know I’m not a saint, okay, love?” Roger admits, and Ash takes a long moment to consider his words, leaning back a little into his touch, before answering.

“Neither of us are, Roger, and that’s why what we have is so good right now.” Her voice has softened, and Roger stays quiet. “We can talk about it tomorrow.” She says gently, before reaching to link her fingers with his where he’s got his hand on her shoulder. She pulls him closer, and Roger makes a low hum, pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder.

When the morning comes, things are quiet and golden. Neither one knows what to say to the other, but Ash still gets him a cup of tea in the morning, and when he sees the cup with the little cat face on it, Roger feels something tighten in his chest. 

“Let’s try this, please.” He asks, expression sincere when he looks at where Ash is tucking herself back into bed, pressing herself against his side. The look she gives him is confused, and then it blooms into something hopeful. “I’m not fucking around here, I mean it.”

When she kisses him, her hand is warm where it had been holding her teacup, and she’s smiling against her lips. There’s a tension in her shoulders, and he can’t stop playing her words back over again in his head, ‘the idea of being with you fucking terrifies me’ and it’s clear that feeling hasn’t vanished over night.

But she’s willing to try.

the ususal suspects: @deakydickfanpage @hollyissuchahoe @laueecakee @smittyjaws @crystalshines2909 @i-am-sarah @legendsaresooftenwarnings @2ptonpt @benhardy24-7 @maiilovely @mickey-yr-a-goner @butter-times @heyyouitskay @tired-eyes-fairy-lights @yepimthatperson @missieluvsmurder @ironqueen98 @ceruleanrainblues @banhbao329@fantasticchaoticwho @ko-kitty @seven-seas-of-hi @mimisfangirlfantasy @aadjuric @rogmobile @cardybenhardy @snacfu @perriwiinkle @the-strange-fan-girl @finite-incantatem-7 @tapetayloe @florencewelchmybiggod

[hgfstreamchats]

The Christmas Tree Strikes Back

Welcome to the 'highglossfinish' room. caffienatedconfetti: hello pitiful beings of the mortal realm caffienatedconfetti: i have arrived caffienatedconfetti: what is the christmas tree movie tho? caffienatedconfetti: wait am i late caffienatedconfetti: *** Knock Out: Right on time! caffienatedconfetti: AH Knock Out: Oh, you'll see what the Christmas tree movie is. caffienatedconfetti: what is the christmas tree movie, plz explain Starscream: Right on time to get your audials ruined. Knock Out: You're welcome. caffienatedconfetti: what thenightetc: Wow caffienatedconfetti: oh dear

thenightetc: Is the audio all... scratchy for anyone else? caffienatedconfetti: same caffienatedconfetti: no caffienatedconfetti: NO caffienatedconfetti: NOT THIS MOVIE, NO caffienatedconfetti: NO NO NO caffienatedconfetti: YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME thenightetc: hahahahah! Knock Out: Oh yes! caffienatedconfetti: YOU MONSTER caffienatedconfetti: PLEASE GOD Knock Out: "Named Christmas" caffienatedconfetti: ....what caffienatedconfetti: okay i had imaginary friends when i was small but i didn't ever talk to trees thenightetc: That's not so much an imaginary friend as an imaginary parent caffienatedconfetti: oh god the demons caffienatedconfetti: *slow nod* caffienatedconfetti: the most apathetic man caffienatedconfetti: are you sure he isnt a robot Knock Out: Father Sadface isn't coming back. caffienatedconfetti: come children follow meANOTHERTHING caffienatedconfetti: blinkblink caffienatedconfetti: blinkblinkblink caffienatedconfetti: smiiiiiile caffienatedconfetti: HIVE MIND Knock Out: At Tirstmas. Starscream: Horrible little gremlins. caffienatedconfetti: he's a very 'special' girl caffienatedconfetti: OH GOD caffienatedconfetti: THEIR FACES caffienatedconfetti: teleporting dog caffienatedconfetti: what is that sound effect caffienatedconfetti: decorate her with the corpses of her brethren Knock Out: She's already fueled by rage. A little more can't hurt. Starscream: There can never be enough rage, apparently. caffienatedconfetti: """"special feeling"""" caffienatedconfetti: so christmas isn't in the winter.....??? caffienatedconfetti: is christmastime a season thenightetc: Maybe they're Australian. Knock Out: Of course it is. Like Smarch. thenightetc: And, uh, getting some very unseasonal snow. caffienatedconfetti: they sure say 'the children' a lot Starscream: It's because they don't have designations. caffienatedconfetti: these are orphans lady Knock Out: "The reindeer have names, unlike you." caffienatedconfetti: this music oh god caffienatedconfetti: i thought this was a kids mive caffienatedconfetti: *movie Starscream: Is there murder in this movie. thenightetc: Eventually, yeah.  Sort of. thenightetc: ...At least, as far as I remember. caffienatedconfetti: yeah there is caffienatedconfetti: .....fast fingers.....???? Knock Out: Oh Unicron. Starscream: Okay good. Knock Out: I like how everyone has cataracts. Very attractive. Knock Out: ...Why does she have a fur coat? Starscream: A concerning attraction Starscream: Because its cold? Knock Out: I'm just saying, if she can afford furs, you'd think she'd be able to afford better accomodations. Knock Out: Or at least some Christmas shoes for the children to eat. Starscream: From what i've seen, everything is more important than 'the children' Starscream: This is absolutely painful to watch Knock Out: Isn't it just? caffienatedconfetti: their voices are painful Starscream: i hope you're enjoying our suffering thenightetc: "Look, it's only a few inches away!" Knock Out: Oh, I am! Starscream: of course caffienatedconfetti: end me caffienatedconfetti: YES caffienatedconfetti: EAT THEM caffienatedconfetti: EAT THE DEMON CHILDREN Starscreamapillar: Oh good, I haven't entirely missed out on the horror. Knock Out: It's the only part worth seeing, really. caffienatedconfetti: WHERE DID HE COME FROM thenightetc: "the snow took her" Knock Out: I always forget she plummets off a cliff. Starscream: Then why did we have to endure the begining Knock Out: What an excellent question! Starscreamapillar: I feel as though even if I'd been here, this stil wouldn't make sense. Starscream: it doesnt Starscream: dont look too much into it caffienatedconfetti: THAT NOISE caffienatedconfetti: OH GOD MURDER caffienatedconfetti: MRS. HOPEWELLL KILLLED HER Starscreamapillar: . . . Santa lightning. Why not. Starscream: im glad not all earth trees are like that caffienatedconfetti: BOQW BEFORE THE TREE OF DEATH Starscreamapillar: Then they all died of radiation poisoning. caffienatedconfetti: OHOOHHO thenightetc: ...I forgot how santa actually showed up caffienatedconfetti: what was with that  5 seconds of santa thenightetc: with the kid Knock Out: Mrs. Hopewell got the blood sacrifice she always wished for. Merry Christmas to all. Starscreamapillar: She lived. Pity. caffienatedconfetti: she lived???? Knock Out: I mean, she needs help feeding and clothing herself, so... caffienatedconfetti: im getting the hell out of here thenightetc: I was sure she'd died caffienatedconfetti: ive been scarred Starscreamapillar: "Good" now. Knock Out: They gave her a ball. caffienatedconfetti: "you always win when you are good" Knock Out: She likes to bounce it. thenightetc: Wow. Starscreamapillar: So that's why the Autobots always win. They're 'good'. Knock Out: Well, I subjected you all to that and I have no more viewing material queued up. Suggestions? caffienatedconfetti: there is no way more than two or three people orked on this movie caffienatedconfetti: im going to bed' Starscreamapillar: What sort of suggesstions do you have in mind? caffienatedconfetti: thanks for the mental scars Starscream: something to clense the palate of this horrible nightmare caffienatedconfetti: if i may, before i leave, suggest the grinch caffienatedconfetti: because it's the grinch Knock Out: I've no objections to the grinch. caffienatedconfetti: goood caffienatedconfetti: ill see mrs hopewelll in my dreams tonight' caffienatedconfetti: goodbye Knock Out: She'll be there, feeding on your dreams. Starscream: thanks, i hate it Knock Out: No other suggestions? Starscreamapillar: I am not opposed to this Grinch thing. Knock Out: The grinch it is. Starscream: a relatable world view if there ever was one Starscreamapillar: Though stealing a whole holiday seems impractical. Starscream: not if you steal it and make it about you Starscream: Starscream day does sound nice Starscreamapillar: Is it really stolen then, or just overwritten? Starscream: both Knock Out: Just looking at the Whos, I know I don't want them to have anything they enjoy. Starscreamapillar: They are abominations. thenightetc: The guy lives all the way up on a mountain and he can still hear them.  They're the WORST neighbors. thenightetc: IT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL LOUD AND OBNOXIOUS.  THAT'S THE REASON. Starscream: that sounds like a medical problem Starscreamapillar: Missiles would solve his problem. Knock Out: As would fire. Starscream: no thats too humane thenightetc: Maybe a nice avalanche. Knock Out: It would look like an accident. Starscreamapillar: If you kill them all, then there's no need to make it look accidental. thenightetc: Exactly.  You can just enjoy the peace and quiet. Knock Out: The only eyes on you would be your diety, and I find it hard to believe any loving diety could prefer the Whos alive. Starscreamapillar: That was the least practical way to deliver a single strawberry. Knock Out: Loud, materialistic, AND wasteful. thenightetc: Did that child have antennae? Starscream: if anything, you should get an award for disposing of them Knock Out: Perhaps some kind of statue. Starscream: ... yes Starscream: statues are always recommended thenightetc: I feel sorry for the dog, though. Starscreamapillar: He's allowed Christmas to ruin his only curtain. Knock Out: I like his stylish sewing machine. thenightetc: My grandmother had one of those. Starscreamapillar: The Grinch's cave is surprisingly well furnished. Knock Out: He'd have a charmed life if it weren't for the Whos. thenightetc: Again: poor dog Starscream: you can't skip luxury, even if you are a Christmas hating green being Knock Out: Here's to that. Starscreamapillar: The father from Gremlins should have learned to navigate a chimney from this grinch. Knock Out: Hah! Knock Out: Oh! I know what we're watching after this. Starscreamapillar: Yes? Knock Out: It features otters. Starscreamapillar: That is less illuminating than I'd hoped. Knock Out: They live in crippling poverty. It's a charmer. thenightetc: See?  Antennae Starscreamapillar: Excellent. Starscreamapillar: How did that girl not notice that everything but the tree was gone? Starscream: i wanna know how he fits all of that in those bags Starscreamapillar: The magic of the montage. Knock Out: I would have preferred an "avalanche the Whos" montage, but this works. thenightetc: That is absolutely how trees work; they fold right up like umbrellas Starscreamapillar: The special is certainly lacking the Christmas murder one wants. thenightetc: he's TWO MILES away and can still hear them all. Knock Out: You really don't see enough murder in holiday specials. thenightetc: They are nightmare neighbors Starscream: you really dont Starscreamapillar: It's a pity. Starscreamapillar: Another terrible radioactive Christmas glow. Knock Out: They intend to dump it in the Grinch's yard afterwards. Knock Out: They don't know he's responsible; it's just the kind of neighbors they are. thenightetc: Ha! Starscreamapillar: *Snrk* Starscreamapillar: And just like that, he forgot that he hated them because of their noise, instead of materialism? thenightetc: Apparently! Starscream: yes but why Starscreamapillar: Radiation poisoning causing brain tumours. Knock Out: Unicron forbid they go without their floof. Starscreamapillar: There wasn't even a santa in that universe. So why dress like it to break into the houses? thenightetc: Maybe there is a santa, and he did something to the Grinch secretly. thenightetc: y'know, christmas magic Knock Out: Christmas something or other. Starscreamapillar: Are they wailing about a dead woman's bathing suit? Knock Out: Alright, this is the cut version. Knock Out: Let me find it uncut. Starscreamapillar: Of course. thenightetc: Should we be worried? Knock Out: No, but it's worth it for that moment alone. Knock Out: Well, that and the killing spree ending. Starscreamapillar: I'm looking forward to the killing spree. Knock Out: Alright, I can't find it, but she says "...Fall off the dock." thenightetc: Pffff. Starscreamapillar: Shame that was cut. thenightetc: ...Ouch thenightetc: They just finished talking about how they have no money, though. Starscreamapillar: The species dynamics here are confusing. Starscreamapillar: Did this father also die in the chimney? Knock Out: Yes. Starscreamapillar: He's an otter. Thin ice shouldn't be an issue. Knock Out: I'm not okay with the way they walk. thenightetc: You'd think. Starscreamapillar: It's all about the materialism. thenightetc: ...Does he know what a down payment is? Knock Out: It's also not occuring to him that he could sing instead of destroying their livelihood. Knock Out: Unlike him. Starscreamapillar: They are not brilliant animals. Starscreamapillar: Those legs are terribly unsettling. thenightetc: Yeah, that's uncanny Knock Out: Terrible little flaccid nub legs. Starscreamapillar: He took his chances, and -died-. Knock Out: I'm legitimately curious to know how he died. It was probably funny. Starscreamapillar: Perhaps he didn't die. He just pretended, and ran off with a younger, prettier otter. Knock Out: And a son that can walk normally. thenightetc: The two of them could do a duet, as opposed to the kid splitting the prize with three other people. Starscreamapillar: Or perhaps that snooty fox ate him. Knock Out: He takes after his father, clearly. thenightetc: goddamnit Starscreamapillar: They're both morons. Discuss your plans. thenightetc: No kidding! Knock Out: Congratulations, you sound awful. Starscreamapillar: Just terrible. Starscreamapillar: Were they so bad they broke the movie? Knock Out: "They both starved, the end." Knock Out: Let me find a full version. Knock Out: There we are. The thrilling conclusion. thenightetc: "what if you don't" "well I HAVE to now" Knock Out: Emmett's going to have to do something unfortunate on the street corner to pay for crust money. Knock Out: Merry Christmas, Emmett. Knock Out: I like the weasel in drag. Starscreamapillar: Why do some of them have tails, and some do not? thenightetc: you taunted murphy Starscreamapillar: . . . . Starscreamapillar: Well, I know what will be in my nightmares for a while. Knock Out: Likewise. Knock Out: A duet with her dimwitted son probably would have won. Starscreamapillar: Likely. thenightetc: And now they're competing against each other! thenightetc: And ruined the washtub for no reason. Knock Out: Which can't be fixed, even if they win. Knock Out: By the Allspark, why did they think this would win? Starscreamapillar: Because they're stupid children animal puppets? Knock Out: That's it. thenightetc: *sigh* Knock Out: A snake is playing guitar. They deserve to win. thenightetc: Is this going to go over well with the judges Knock Out: And the fish isn't doing anything but making a mess. Starscreamapillar: Perhaps the judges will be threatened into giving them the win. Knock Out: The fish is Smokescreen. Starscreamapillar: And of course, the awful puppets liked that. thenightetc: I really can't see why. Starscreamapillar: They don't actually have ears. Knock Out: "Well, when you say it out loud, it sounds stupid." Knock Out: You raised an idiot son that doesn't know how much pianos cost or what down payments are. thenightetc: "It must be the hypothermia setting in" Starscreamapillar: They're taking those other boys home to eat them. Since they have no money for food, or washtub to continue having a job. thenightetc: I can't believe the judges voted for the hooligans who'd been wrecking everything Knock Out: Apart from the mother otter, it was the only other act that came across as giving a slag. Starscreamapillar: They only know the one song. thenightetc: Hopefully they'll learn some more. Starscreamapillar: I was promised a killing spree. Where's my killing spree? Knock Out: And don't gamble this new livelihood away on magic beans. Knock Out: It's an offscreen killing spree. You just know it's inevitable. Knock Out: And that's that thenightetc: It sure was. Starscreamapillar: I feel appropriately traumatized. Thank you for hosting, as always. Knock Out: Thank *you* for coming, as always! Starscreamapillar: Until next time! thenightetc: Yes, thanks for hosting!  It was fun. thenightetc: and goodnight! Knock Out: To you too!