“Like I said, very melodramatic and tragic.” Thesis said, and Agony smacked i'm on the back of the head.
“What do you expect? It’s the fucking apocalypse!” She said.
“She has a point there.” Duenna sighed heavily.
“I thought it was good!” Motif shrugged, “Though the execution had a little to be desired, maybe a little more build up in the begini-” Agony cut him off.
“Stick to paintings Motif! S’all you’re good for. Feel free to disappear into the distance and find something to critisize, but leave us the fuck out of it!” Agony ranted, and Duenna raised her finger and opened her mouth to speak.
“Duenna! I swear to god, if you say one thing about my language, I will through that ratty fucking doll into the fire!” Agony threatened, and ignored Duenna’s clutching her doll when she turned to Thesis, expectantly.
“Well? You got something to say too, Shitwig?” She asked.
“Only that you'r heavy judgement of others is most ironic and likely a sign of a possible inferiority complex. And stop calling me Shitwig.” Thesis proclaimed. Agony scowled, then grinned.
“Yeah, alright, whatever Freud.” She said, dismissively. Thesis went red.
“Do not compare me to that frivolous, overrated blowhard-fuck!” He bellowed.
“Whatever you say… Freud.” Agony grinned. Thesis hit her on the back of the head and she looked up at him in a way that made it clear that was exactly the reaction she had wanted.
“A gentleman must never hit a lady!” Duenna cried.
“There are no more gentlemen! There are no more ladies! There is only the human animal!” Motif exclaimed theatrically and nudged Sequel once more, “Don’t you agree, Sequel? You agree with me, don't you?” Sequel continued to silently stare into the flames. Motif nodded as if he had gotten an answer.
“Ya’ know, there's nothing wrong with having a pet rock, and there’s not even necessarily anything wrong with talking to it, but when you start expecting a response it’s just sad. Sad and creepy.” Agony said with another long drag.
“A textbook case of over-attachment and stagnated grief.” Thesis said in a faux morose.
“Watch it.” Motif said icily “Fucking, watch it.”
“Alright, alright, no need to get testy.” Agony shrugged. An uncomfortable silence hung.
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