*He rolls his eyes and sighs a bit more. Robin was really not becoming any of his favorites or even a friend, more like a nuisance. He rushed through the streets like the slick streetrat he was, eventually landing in his little pit of a hole he called ‘home’ from time to time’. He opened the door and stepped aside for Robin to go in first*
*Unsure as to what’s waiting inside, he thinks it can’t be worse than the cops, and so trusting this total stranger Robin walks in, looking around*
What the fuck?! *He grabs the bag anyway and sighs* You’re a fucking amateur, y’know that? Fucking hell, man, if you weren’t such a grease monkey I’d let you go to fucking jail. *He hears the sirens get closer and groans* Fuck me. Follow me, alright? But be quick, slickster *He turns in the other direction and begins to run*
*Expected Cubby to throw it back, like LJ would have done, but whoops that didn’t happen. Stays quiet mostly because what he did really did come off as fucked up without an explanation, which he wasn’t going to provide. Follows Cubby*
*One minute he’s spray painting the wall with his ‘art’ and the next minute he’s face planted into it. His face smubges the fresh paint, instantly a growl lets out* What. The. FUCK!? *He turns to face the other who’s attempting to get up and glares at him* SERIOUSLY? Are you fucking drunk? *He hears sirens in the background and groans* Oh fucking great.
*Starts to lie* Yeah, I’m dru — *hears the sirens*
Fuck, we gotta… *throws the sack of stolen items at Cubby*
It was Cubby’s day off of work, so naturally he was doing one of the things he loved to do. Since Coon wasn’t around he substituted his usual urges for a little art or at least he felt it was art.
*Running away with a sack of… things. Things that are not stolen most definitely… Runs into Cubby*
*scrambles to get up* Who the heck are you?
Of course. -smiles-
*Laughs* I guess I can’t imagine ever not wanting pizza.
-mumbles to himself- I’m in the mood for pizza.
Wait — there’s a mood for pizza?
Yeah, this somebody don’t believe you.
I’ll remember to start caring ‘bout what you think on a day that doesn’t end in y.
-corners of mouth turn into a small smirk- Sounds like someone doesn’t get any, or else he’d be at the drive-in just as often.
*Huffs* Or I don’t get it at the drive-in because I respect women. I’ve got class, unlike someone.
I passed tired of that damn movie two weeks ago.
Sounds like someone goes to the drive-in too often. There are other things to do ‘round Disney, y’know.