"... Hey Three?" The inkling gave a hum of acknowledgement. "Can I lick your armpit?" Three blinked gayly as her gay brain slowly processed that. And by slowly I mean gayly. "... You want to *what*." "Can I lick your armpit?" Three stared at the octoling with a baffled look on her face. "Why." "Four said armpits tasted like something... I think it was... mussy or something?" "Four told you that armpits tasted like mussy." "Yeah!" "So now you're asking me if you can lick my armpit." "Can I?"
(2/?) "I- just- what do-" Three pinched the bridge of her nose, trying her best to ignore the less than appropiate mental images assaulting her brain. "Eight, that's not something you just ask someone. Actually, that's not a thing people do at all. You don't just... lick people's armpits," Three explained, all while hoping the power of her thoughts alone had the power to murder Four. Sadly, that did not seem to be the case. "But why not? Do you know what mussy tastes like? Is it that bad?"
(3/?) Three could feel the blush crawling up her cheeks. "Wha- EIGHT NO! I don't- mussy isn't even a real word!" Eight's face dropped like a kicked baby sealion. It was very cute and made Three's hearts spontaneously combust but the current conversation gave Three the ability to survive from cuteness-induced exploding hearts. "It's not? Well then what do armpits taste like then?" "I don't know, Eight and I really don't want to find out. Now can we please go back to working?" "Ok..." "Thank you."
