Bad Sound
silver-butcher:
At the mention of BOb Mercury rolled his eyes he was convinced that guy was just someone’s idea of a joke pretending to be some weirdo. Emerald’s money was on trench coat full of slimes but, the butcher was a little more fixated on the practical more simple idea of someone going out of their way for a joke…but…either way it was funny so they fell into the ‘not hated’ category.
“Wow thanks that’s so considerate of you at least I don’t have the back of my hair styled like shoelaces…seriously I’ve tied that shit in a bow in your sleep, I mean what?” another cocky grin.
“You know what?” Emerald answered, throwing her arms up in exasperation, “screw it, you can get your own towel.” Turning, she pointed an accusing finger at him, “if you ever touch my hair again, I’ll break your wrists.” Emerald wasn’t sure she believed him. After all, back-and-forth bickering and empty threats were their speciality. Still... she was going to invest in a camera. Fuck, now the sick bastard had her paranoid.
“I’m going to catch a chicken. Have it done before I get back.” Even the chickens here creeped her out.










