In the name of revolution

Who gave these children taxes

"Purpled."
"Quackity."

The two just stared at each other, neither of them looking like they wanted to be there.

"You know you're not exposed to bring your dog to work."
"I really don't."
"Wha- we've had this same argument every day for the past two weeks."

Purpled hoped he looked as unimpressed as he felt.

"Fine. He can stay. Just make sure sklat doesn't see him. He's in a mood today."

And with that the duck hybrid stomped away to go do what ever it was he did.

Yah... purpled definitely is going to bring dogchamp back tomorrow. He doesn't trust his psychotic brother to not try anything.

And it wasn't like he really wanted this job, he wasn't even sure what his job was. He just sat at a desk most of the time. Sometimes he had to fill out papers that had nothing to do with each other or make some sort of delivery, but that was it. Or pretending to be productive when Jschlat walked in to check on each employee, making sure that they are useful. Just, hours, of time spent basically staring at wall because sleeping on the job would definitely get him fired and give dream a reason to blow up his UFO.

He groaned and spun around in the office chair he was given.

Maybe he should just quit and move far far across the server.

A crash sounded sounded from deep within the White House. The walls thin.

Purpled stopped spinning.

Quitting sounded even more appealing.

————-

Tubbo flinched as the bottle schlat threw smashed against the wall.

He didn't know what the ram hybrid was mad about this time, it seems there is always some sort of inconvenience that could be used as an excuse for drinking.

He vaguely wondered if it would have been better to be exiled with Tommy and Wilbur. If it was better to be stuck here like a festering wound or to leave the home he helped build.