Hailing the Bug
callmebugboy
Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it. "Hey...do you have people sing that song for you? Mr. Wilson sings it all the time."
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Hailing the Bug
callmebugboy
Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it. "Hey...do you have people sing that song for you? Mr. Wilson sings it all the time."
callmebugboy is on file
If someone held a gun to her head and made her choose her favorite insect, Maria would pick the Roly Poly bug. It looks like a miniature armadillo, but with more legs and less nose.
She might like them less if she knew they were a species of woodlice.
+2 had a nightmare
"Is there something you want?"
Look at all them followers-
"Wow, who knew I'd be an entertaining guy." Red giggled as he waved to the other. "Hiya! I'm Red Link, call me Red! Better know your what your boundaries are if you know what's good for you! Hee hee! Not to mention it makes things a bit less... gruesome."
callmebugboy answered:
[He feels a little bit bad, but then again also feels inclined to make some smart-ass comment about her job.]
I can relate to you in a way…
"Oh really?" [she smiles] "How so?"
callmebugboy Surprise? Tell me its not anything spidey related.
"Easy, Pete." Harry chuckled. "Of course it isn't."
"Do people really fall for that line?"
"I can't believe they do. It's like the crummiest thing ever." I replied, turning my head slightly, but still watching the movie. "I mean you have to be an idiot to fall for that."
Greeter: callmebugboy
callmebugboy
It was, perhaps, not the friendliest of meetings. Misunderstanding or not, the situation was tense and they were all ready for the bullets - or webs - to start flying again.
The woman in charge couldn’t resist swatting the Turian beside her in the shoulder. When he ignored herdidn’t respond, she hit his arm with the butt of her pistol.
"Shepard, now’s not really the time-"
"Pay up, Vakarian."
He stiffened with immediate, autocratic refusal, but it only lasted an instant; he deflated with a huff of resignation. The tip of his shotgun didn’t waver as he reached into a pouch to retrieve a credits card. He passed it across to Shepard and shook his head at the wall-clinging hero they had in their crosshairs. “Red pajamas,” he drawled, judgmental and accusing all at once. “Really?”
"Told you." She pocketed the card.
"I do not think they are pajamas, Shepard," the third member of there party chimed in, missing the joke entirely; she was too fascinated by their would-be adversary. "There is /no way/ a human could cling to a wall like that. It is some type of /suit,/" she chirped, and not even her heavy accent could hide her enthusiasm.
"Whattaya say, PJs?" the commander called out. "Come down and we can talk about your fashion choices."
Beside her, the Turian shook his head and sighed.
This time, he wasn’t judging the bugboy.