"Nah, I'm gonna stand out here. You got this'n." Duck's stood outside the dance hall- specifically, a crawlspace just alongside the gap- another ranger's feet sticking out as they struggle to scoot further in. "Age before beauty, or however the adage goes, and I'm not allowed t' crawl around on th' orders of multiple very lovely and intimidatin' women- so I'll be right here- just don't go grabbin' no babies unless you know they're alone, a'right? I'm gettin' low on bandages and we have nothin' for rabies." He shouts- clearly delighting in finally being on the other side of this sort of struggle as a familiar face walks by. "Ah, Mornin' Roman!" He calls. "How you keepin' on, kid?" He questions. "Don't think I ever properly apologized for Z an' Lu afflictin' you with my presence across th' holidays, draggin' ya to dinner." He chuckles.
"But, ya survived no worse for wear, yeah? My cookin' ain't killed nobody yet." The ranger in the crawspace groans. "Oh. This is Mahoney. She ain't important to the conversation."
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