object show stuffs <3

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woop

requested by NewLanguages yaaayyy <3

~

All was calm, during this sunny evening at Hotel OJ.

Hey wait--

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY CAMERA!?"

..oh.

Definitely not calm.

Trophy storms down the hallway, a concerned Cheesy hopping behind him.

Paper happened to be in the way. Seeing as he was basically OJ's right hand man, Trophy decided to get some information from him.

He stomped up to him.

"YOU." He sneered, grabbing Paper by the arm.

"Oh gosh, let's not get h.. hasty now!--"

Paper chuckled, though the fear in his voice was evident.

Trophy took in a deep breath, calming himself. (Whatever calm means to him as of now is most likely not calm to the rest of us.)

"Have you seen my camera." Trophy couldn't hide his angry tone. It didn't even sound like a question.

Paper frowned.

"No but.. maybe we could check the lost and found..? It could be there?" He'd suggest, trying to pull his arm away from Trophy.

"Pft, as if it'd be there, y'know--" Cheesy cut himself off as he was glared at by Trophy.

"Not the damn time." He growled, before turning back to Paper.

"Take us to it."

Paper nodded rather quickly, as Trophy let go.

"T-this way." He stuttered quietly, leading the two downstairs.

Trophy gave him a look, before following his lead.

OJ spun around, a shocked look on his face as he watched Trophy, Cheesy, and Paper all come downstairs in a rush.

He fixed his stature, before calmly smiling.

"What's going on guys?"

Paper looked at OJ in silent desperation, but that went unnoticed. He slowly walked towards a closet somewhere by the end of the hall.

He quietly pulled the door open, leaning down to pick up a really dusty looking box labeled 'lost and found.'

"Here, guys. I don't actually think anyone has put anything in here for a while." Paper coughed out, waving the dust particles away from his face as he brought the box out of the closet.

Trophy sped over as soon as Paper put it down, skimming through the box's insides.

"This is literally mostly-- It's all trash." He'd scoff.

When he couldn't find what he wanted ontop, he began to rummage within the so-called trash.

Zilch.

Then, all of a sudden, he got a poke in the back.

He whipped around, met with small hands holding what looked to be a camera. His camera.

He snatched it, and held it up, feeling very pleased.

He then looked down at the culprit.

The Cherries.

OJ frowned, walking over to them.