honesty hour - is your hotel up to code?
“No, but now I have to kill you for telling you.”

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@mr-beet
honesty hour - is your hotel up to code?
“No, but now I have to kill you for telling you.”
What’s the deal with you and Mirabelle?
“We’re dating, I think. Are we not? You know, I’m not sure we’ve talked about it.”
❛ what do you want? you can tell me. ❜ from mirabelle
"No, no. You'll laugh! You'll make fun of me. Everyone always does."
"Mr. Beet." Mirabelle spoke firmly, frowning. "C'mon, look at me. Ya know I'd never laugh."
"Oh yeah? What if I told you I secretly wanted to be a clown? You're sayin' you'd never even laugh at me! My clown career is over before it even started!"
Despite her previous promise, Mirabelle had to laugh. "Mr. Beet! You're bein' impossible!" She used her invisible hands to shake his invisible shoulders. "C'moooon. Tell me."
Finnegan sighed. He looked away, a far-off look in his eyes. "I just... always wanted to be... the first underwater astronaut."
❛ what do you want? you can tell me. ❜ from mirabelle
"No, no. You'll laugh! You'll make fun of me. Everyone always does."
"Mr. Beet." Mirabelle spoke firmly, frowning. "C'mon, look at me. Ya know I'd never laugh."
"Oh yeah? What if I told you I secretly wanted to be a clown? You're sayin' you'd never even laugh at me! My clown career is over before it even started!"
❛ what do you want? you can tell me. ❜ from mirabelle
"No, no. You'll laugh! You'll make fun of me. Everyone always does."
'well, it was exhausting being fancy anyway.' from mirabelle
Finnegan smiled softly at Mirabelle. "You make it seem effortless. You could make overalls look like a ballgown in the right light."
Mirabelle took pause. "Ya really think so, Mr. Beet?" She, admittedly, fluttered her eyelashes at him.
His purple coloration hid his blush, but he looked away quickly in his flustered state. “Yeah. I… I really think so.” He coughed and quickly said, “Anyway, what’re you so worried about being fancy for, anyway?”
"Well, that's awful sweet of you." Mirabelle smiled softly, before lighting up. "Oh! Ya know, the whole... trying to be a singer thing. That situation? I just, dunno, figured it'd be good if I fancied up my image a bit."
“Your image is fine. You see pop stars these days? They can get away with wearing anything and it’s just their ‘brand’. I mean, hell, that Taylor Grape doesn’t even have a stylist from what I hear.”
This caused Mirabelle to gasp. "Taylor Grape doesn't have a stylist?! Someone should tell Peter Pepperazzi or Gossip Gourd or something, right? That's huge celebrity gossip!" She spoke enthusiastically, even though the 'gossip' was quite mundane.
“I… I think they maybe knew already. But I’ll… I’ll give them a call. Have you uh, met anyone in the music industry? Outside of your immediate family?”
'well, it was exhausting being fancy anyway.' from mirabelle
Finnegan smiled softly at Mirabelle. "You make it seem effortless. You could make overalls look like a ballgown in the right light."
Mirabelle took pause. "Ya really think so, Mr. Beet?" She, admittedly, fluttered her eyelashes at him.
His purple coloration hid his blush, but he looked away quickly in his flustered state. “Yeah. I… I really think so.” He coughed and quickly said, “Anyway, what’re you so worried about being fancy for, anyway?”
"Well, that's awful sweet of you." Mirabelle smiled softly, before lighting up. "Oh! Ya know, the whole... trying to be a singer thing. That situation? I just, dunno, figured it'd be good if I fancied up my image a bit."
“Your image is fine. You see pop stars these days? They can get away with wearing anything and it’s just their ‘brand’. I mean, hell, that Taylor Grape doesn’t even have a stylist from what I hear.”
'well, it was exhausting being fancy anyway.' from mirabelle
Finnegan smiled softly at Mirabelle. "You make it seem effortless. You could make overalls look like a ballgown in the right light."
Mirabelle took pause. "Ya really think so, Mr. Beet?" She, admittedly, fluttered her eyelashes at him.
His purple coloration hid his blush, but he looked away quickly in his flustered state. “Yeah. I… I really think so.” He coughed and quickly said, “Anyway, what’re you so worried about being fancy for, anyway?”
'well, it was exhausting being fancy anyway.' from mirabelle
Finnegan smiled softly at Mirabelle. "You make it seem effortless. You could make overalls look like a ballgown in the right light."
"so you changed your mind about it?" from katrina and/or sabrina
Mr. Beet, not knowing if he was talking to Katrina or Sabrina, because the two were interchangeably familiar, solemnly nodded. "I did. I thought we could make it work, but... it's too hard to fix what's already broken, Sa...tri...brina?" He grimaced a bit. That definitely wasn't right. "You think... you think she'd understand?"
"It ain't us you gotta worry bout." Katrina's eyes narrow. "You're just real lucky Mirabelle's so forgiving. That sickening sympathy she has for mankind has covered your ass more times than you know."
"So you're mad at me now? You think I haven't tried my hardest for Mirabelle? Hell, even for your guys' sake! But the plumbing is shot, the electricity goes out at every turn, we can't get WiFi out here, and the entire third floor of the hotel is haunted... this place is nothing but a money pit!''
"so you changed your mind about it?" from katrina and/or sabrina
Mr. Beet, not knowing if he was talking to Katrina or Sabrina, because the two were interchangeably familiar, solemnly nodded. "I did. I thought we could make it work, but... it's too hard to fix what's already broken, Sa...tri...brina?" He grimaced a bit. That definitely wasn't right. "You think... you think she'd understand?"
But I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm (from Mirabelle)
Mr. Beet looked at Mirabelle with an expression torn between mild annoyance and affection. “Wouldn’t fire cause my brittle heart to like, shatter or melt from the heat?” He asked somewhat sarcastically, because he couldn’t help it. Also, Ryan hasn’t seen the Beauty and the Beet special in well over a year and does not remember anything about him except Grumpy, and I guess he’s Mr. Beast’s brother?
Then, he was wise enough to ask, “Am I supposed to play along? Is this one of those exercises in ‘showing affection’?”
She sighs. "I was just tryin' to tell ya I care for ya, whether you wanna hear it or not." She looks almost longingly at Mr. Beet. "I don't necessarily need ya to show affection but could you...I don't know, not be such a pompous dick about accepting mine?"
"I'm not trying to be a dick! I just... you know I'm not used to affection. It feels weird. I... what, do I thank you? Do I get you flowers? How do I accept it?"
It was, sadly, a genuine question. Mirabelle had poor taste in Beets, but hey, the man had been cursed by a witch at the age of 11 to run a hotel in the mountains, so cut him some slack I guess?
But I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm (from Mirabelle)
Mr. Beet looked at Mirabelle with an expression torn between mild annoyance and affection. “Wouldn’t fire cause my brittle heart to like, shatter or melt from the heat?” He asked somewhat sarcastically, because he couldn’t help it. Also, Ryan hasn’t seen the Beauty and the Beet special in well over a year and does not remember anything about him except Grumpy, and I guess he’s Mr. Beast’s brother?
Then, he was wise enough to ask, “Am I supposed to play along? Is this one of those exercises in ‘showing affection’?”
"om, nom, nom, nom. i’m hungry for lunch." (from jerry what the hell why not)
Mr. Beet nearly jumped out of his skin. "Who the hell are you?! Where did you come from?" He snapped, whipping around to look over the ominously hungry gourd. "Do I pay you? Do you work here? Do I owe you a lunch break or something?"
"Uh..." Jerry stalled, as Mariah tried to remember if he's in that one or not "My brother's the bellboy."
"Oh," Mr. Beet said with faint disgust. "Right. I see the resemblance." He did not, aside from them both being Gourds. "So like, you want a job as a favor to your brother? Because there's no paid for or provided lunches."
"Oh! I have a job. And money. I'm here for the dinner show!"
“Oh, right we have a show now. Sorry, I completely—” his voice changed from polite apologetic to sharp again quickly, “it’s 8am! The dinner show isn’t until 6:30pm! Why are you here early?”
"2 hang"
“Then wait until 6:30pm for dinner! Don’t just come up behind me telling me you’re hungry! And you better have paid your way in. Your brother’s going to be fired if he tried to sneak you in for free.”
"om, nom, nom, nom. i’m hungry for lunch." (from jerry what the hell why not)
Mr. Beet nearly jumped out of his skin. "Who the hell are you?! Where did you come from?" He snapped, whipping around to look over the ominously hungry gourd. "Do I pay you? Do you work here? Do I owe you a lunch break or something?"
"Uh..." Jerry stalled, as Mariah tried to remember if he's in that one or not "My brother's the bellboy."
"Oh," Mr. Beet said with faint disgust. "Right. I see the resemblance." He did not, aside from them both being Gourds. "So like, you want a job as a favor to your brother? Because there's no paid for or provided lunches."
"Oh! I have a job. And money. I'm here for the dinner show!"
“Oh, right we have a show now. Sorry, I completely—” his voice changed from polite apologetic to sharp again quickly, “it’s 8am! The dinner show isn’t until 6:30pm! Why are you here early?”
"om, nom, nom, nom. i’m hungry for lunch." (from jerry what the hell why not)
Mr. Beet nearly jumped out of his skin. "Who the hell are you?! Where did you come from?" He snapped, whipping around to look over the ominously hungry gourd. "Do I pay you? Do you work here? Do I owe you a lunch break or something?"
"Uh..." Jerry stalled, as Mariah tried to remember if he's in that one or not "My brother's the bellboy."
"Oh," Mr. Beet said with faint disgust. "Right. I see the resemblance." He did not, aside from them both being Gourds. "So like, you want a job as a favor to your brother? Because there's no paid for or provided lunches."
"om, nom, nom, nom. i’m hungry for lunch." (from jerry what the hell why not)
Mr. Beet nearly jumped out of his skin. "Who the hell are you?! Where did you come from?" He snapped, whipping around to look over the ominously hungry gourd. "Do I pay you? Do you work here? Do I owe you a lunch break or something?"