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[boilover]

I'm getting real tired of getting dumped in strange places against my will. I don't like it.

[There's a low, dangerous growl of disapproval and the expression on Mick's face is not a pretty one. It's somewhat reminiscent of an angry bull. This was the second time in God knows how many days that Mick Rory has found himself stranded somewhere new and different, unsure what the hell is happening. It's not a good feeling. It didn't inspire much good will.

Though this is a definite improvement over the last place. For one, there's food. For another, he gets a free smart phone to yell at people over and voice his anger. Not bad. Though he did kind of think they went a little overboard with the white. What was with all the decorations anyway? This better not be like some low rent Christmas Town cause honestly, that sounded a lot like hell.]

You got five minutes to convince me not to torch this place to the ground cause I ain't in the mood to play nice right now. Somebody start talking. [The words come out as an angry snarl, teeth barred. He's not a happy bunny.]

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[boilover]

[Heh. Now that sounded like a lot of fun.]

I'm down for that. Go ahead, given me the wrong info. Let's see what happens.

[fulllifeconsequences]

The closets are actually an immensely cunning trap. They lure you in with the promise of infinite potential, and once curiosity inevitably draws a person to start experimenting, they more or less sign their death warrant. You see, there is about a 1 in 64 chance that when you open a closet, it will seize you by the face and devour you whole instead of delivering the novelty singing bass you asked for.

[boilover]

I can't say the idea of being eaten by a closet lately much bothers me. I could think of worse ways to go. Plus, one outta sixty four? Those are some good odds. I guess it depends on your luck.

What about these communicators? Anything I should know? Potential death or mutilation.

[fulllifeconsequences]

You're in luck, then - even if you die in Wonderland, you'll just come right back. But maybe you'll want to ask a more reliable source about that, hm?

Communicators, though, those are safe. Unless you try to type a swear word in. Then the Naughty Word Alarm starts blaring and it floods your inbox with stock photos of disapproving grandmothers.

[boilover]

I already heard about that one, sorry to break it to you. We get about five, right? And then things get screwy and you lose memories. Sounds like a hell of a good time.

Huh. Do grandmothers disapprove? Cause I think mine used to swear more than me.

[fulllifeconsequences]

Golly, you learn quick. I'd better be more careful about which complete and utter lies I tell, lest I run the risk of getting caught.

[Surely we wouldn't want that. The stock grandmothers would be most displeased.]

I wouldn't actually know. I've never had one. I'm sure it would be just as easy to find stock photos of something else disapproving. Cat jpegs, maybe?

[boilover]

Lying isn't something I had much, kid. If you're good at something and you can make it entertaining, I ain't gonna complain.

[He shrugs his shoulders somewhat dismissively.] Cats are always easier to find that grandmothers.

[fulllifeconsequences]

That's more of an understatement than you realize. The closets will also give you live cats, it turns out. That one probably isn't even a lie, as far as you know. You could be up to your armpits in disapproving kittens, if you felt like it.

[boilover]

Not really a big fan of cats, more a dog person. [Also cats are prickly, aloof and give love on their own terms. They're basically just mini, fuzzy Leonard and he already has a big one to deal with, he doesn't need a load of tiny ones.] Still, good to know I can have a kitten party any time.

[fulllifeconsequences]

Oh, I bet you could get dogs too!

[Dogs are the best. No magical prison-realm would be worth its salt if it couldn't produce small, fluffy white dogs to pet on command.

Not that Chara's going to admit to liking them, though. As a matter of principle, Chara doesn't like anything.]

If we've already established that the closets have the ability to create sentient life on a whim, why limit them to just one kind, right?

[boilover]

I ain't gonna ask for a dog, I just prefer dogs

[They're cuter, loyaler and remind him of no one he knows... except maybe Ray... actually a lot like Ray.

Okay, now he doesn't want a dog either. God damn it.]

It can make sentient life... what about people?

[fulllifeconsequences]

Oh, yes, definitely.

[They say, lying, as liars often do.]

But it always plays out exactly like the tired stereotypical Cloning Episode of any children's cartoon. You'll have sixteen whoever-you-ares running around wild, embarrassing you in front of your crush. It's not recommended in the least.

[boilover]

... I call bullshit or I'd have seen way more weird awkward clones running about by now? Like people can't control themselves, they'd clone about a billion versions of anyone they missed by now.

[And if that wasn't bullshit... may God help them all.]

[fulllifeconsequences]

Oh, heavens no. We had so many around that we dug a Clone Pit. Now bad and naughty children get tossed into the Pit to atone for their sins.

[The proper response to being called out on your lie is to tell an even dumber lie, right?]

Don't worry. Someone stuck a little railing up. You probably won't fall into it.