Seirre hesitantly began typing a post. The combined chaos of haikus, coffee, and chicks, along with the incessant beeping coming from the testy microwave, was making their head spin. They were also rather disoriented, as from the sounds of it in @SilverNight's post this cabin was spontaneously growing hallways like limbs.
"So? Who's feeling up to the challenge?" The microwave buzzed impatiently.
"CAN'T. HEAR YOU." @Carina shouted, hands clamped firmly over her ears while she spun in circles. If Seirre had to sum up the general aura Carina had while doing this, she would probably use this gif:
"Do you know why she's doing that?" @FireEyes asked Seirre, speaking at a perfectly normal volume because, newsflash, the microwave was beeping at a perfectly normal microwave volume and was not nearly as loud as Carina seemed to believe.
"Why WOULDN'T she be doing that?" @veeren scoffed.
"..." Seirre punctuated.
I think we're getting a bit sidetracked, Seirre. The rap battle? Remember?
Seirre looked around suspiciously, trying to find the narrator. @HarryHardy must have let the narrator loose, she thought, shaking her head. Still, the narrator did have a point. Rap battle. Not exactly Seirre's forte, but since they had done literally nothing to help out with the haiku fiasco, it seemed only right that they give this a shot.
"Okayyyyy," Seirre let out an exhale. "Wait, first - could I get like, popcorn? Instead of hot chocolate? I mean, considering you just kind of vaporized out of thin air it seems reasonable that you could supply us with a snack upon request, right?" Seirre looked sideways at Harry and Silver. Maybe this whole hot chocolate thing was crucial to the plot. Just have the microwave give an appropriately unsatisfactory and ambiguous answer, the narrator suggested. Good suggestion, narrator.
"Depends on how much I like your rapping," the microwave responded, adequately unsatisfactory and ambiguous.
Seirre pursed their lips. Here goes.
You're askin' for a rap battle so a rap battle I'll do -
fight you to metaphorical death, 'til we're out of breath and blue.
Think you can intimidate us with your feeble buzzes and beeps?
Well too bad for you I could do this all day, yeah, I'd do this in my sleep.
So shut your mouth and open your door and give us the hot cocoa, please,
and maybe we'll give mercy and not make any more puns about cheese.
Seirre raised her eyebrow at @ShadowVyper across the room, but they just smirked back and mouthed "I beg to disa-brie."
"Speaking of BRIE," @Atticus interjected, because apparently he could read lips and had conveniently been reading Shady's lips at that exact moment, "Frisbrie!" He chucked a frisbee that was covered in rainbow mashed potatoes through the room. It went straight through the far window's glass, not leaving a single crack behind.
"Huh," @Hkumar said, furrowing his eyebrows. "Magical frisbee. In a tagbook. Who would've thought."
"Frisbrie", Atticus muttered under his breath.
Once again, Seirre, this post become increasingly non-sequitur. Ooh fancy word, narrator. I frankly don't know if you even used it right, but like, go off. Why don't you wrap things up with a semicoherent ending that the next person can actually build something semicoherent off of? Yeah, yeah, okay. Roger that.
Seirre gestured grandly around the room and then raised a megaphone to their mouth, which they had conjured out of thin air. (The megaphone, not their mouth.) "Well, folks, who would like to take on the microwave next?"
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