I scream, you scream, we all scream.... we ALL scream...

[ilovepuppies]

Who: EVERYONE
What: Fourth of July sucked, we're having a make-up ICE CREAM SOCIAL
Where: The ice cream speakeasy
When: RIGHT NOW
Warnings: Food fights? IDK


Everyone finds a slip of paper slid under their door one morning:

ICE CREAM SOCIAL

8 PM

THE PASSWORD IS SWORDFISH

If you come to the speakeasy at the allotted time, and give the very completely top secret password, you're in. If you've never been to the speakeasy before, you'll find it stocked with tons of ice cream flavors and maybe definitely some alcohol. Star is already here and she has an entire table full of every topping imaginable, including, like, 500 different kinds of sprinkles.

...Some of them might just be straight up glitter. This is Star we're talking about after all.

[OOC: IT'S A MINGLE LOG. get in losers we're stuffing our faces]

Comments

[stinkypete]

WELL, THEN, FIGURE IT OUT YOURSELF, WISE GUY! [Pete practically screams into the vent after Beaker. Someone passing by stares at him, and he grins, hands behind his back.] G'evenin'! Just fixin' a leaky pipe, that's all! [The guest walks off, and Pete turns back to the vent, scowling.] YOU FIND ANYTHIN' YET?

[flowersonthewall]

[This isn't how Beaker wanted to spend his day. He just wanted ice cream. WHy is this happening.]

Mee-mimuhmeep mi!

[Not yet!

Beaker wriggles along, muttering to himself about what an idiot he is for doing this in the first place. Why couldn't he have just told Pete the password?

... Part of it's that he didn't want Star to have to deal with the big angry cat who kept threatening to pummel him. But most of it was just... Beaker wanting to be petty and rude to someone who hurt him. Like Plankton, or that Olaf guy.

He's pretty sure that at some point, he's gonna need to really do some soul-searching about why he's been acting more aggressive/investigative, but for now he just wants to not get his face turned inside out.

Eventually, Beaker reaches a vent into an empty hallway! Hooray! Unfortunately, the vent isn't budging easily. Pete might be able to hear the sounds of Beaker struggling with the grate from his end.]

[stinkypete]

[Pete taps his fingers against what's left of the metal grate, occasionally checking a watch that has conveniently appeared on his wrist. This guy's taking way too long for Pete's tastes. His ear twitches as he hears grunting and a few clangs.]

DON'T YOU HAVE ANY OF THEM CARDS OR SOMETHING? JUST BLOW OPEN THE VENT, TWIG!

[If anything, any destruction will be blamed on Beaker rather than Pete. Hopefully.]

[flowersonthewall]

[Well, he does have Demolition Dynamite, but the last time he used it he almost killed a man, so.

Luckily, Beaker's puppet has changed to the two-person style again, so he has the strength of two men once more. After a bit more effort, he manages to pry the grate off! Beaker pulls himself out of the vent, and he collapses on a small heap on the floor, exhausted from navigating the vents.]

[stinkypete]

[Pete hears the grate clatter to the ground. He grunts, trying to put the crumpled scrap of metal back onto the broken vent.]

NOW, I WANTS YA TO OPEN THE DOOR, ALRIGHT? YOU GOT TWO MINUTES!

[He starts lumbering back towards the door, waiting for Beaker. He'll get his ice cream, property damage be damned.]

[flowersonthewall]

[Beaker flinches at the shouting, and scrambles to his feet. Ok, ok, the door. Right. Conveniently, there's an exit sign pointing him in the right direction, and Beaker soon finds himself standing in front of the door.

And he pauses.

... You know what? Beaker's in now. And Pete isn't. And maybe, if he's lucky, he can avoid being seen by Pete juuust long enough for Pete to forget this whole incident. Maybe.

Beaker weighs his options. He lets Pete in and gets bossed around even more, and probably gets injured; he doesn't let Pete in and gets pummeled sometime in the near future; or, he doesn't let Pete in and he avoids getting caught.

... His chances are bad, but he's taking the third option anyway. Beaker heads back into the speakeasy.]

[stinkypete]

[A few minutes pass. Nothing happens. Pete growls, banging on the door.] OPEN UP! TH' HELL HAPPENED, TWIG? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO COME TO THE DOOR A MINUTE AGO! [No response. Frustrated, Pete kicks over a nearby recycling bin, scattering its contents across the street. He storms off, fuming.] Oooh, when I get my hands on that scrawny lil' cheese puff....

[flowersonthewall]

[Meanwhile, Beaker is eating ice cream.]