Everything is Great!

Flying

Robin wants Finney to teach him how to be a good person, so he insists that Robin participates in a neighborhood cleanup instead of learning to fly.

If this feels way too specific or way too vague, I am sorry. But I threw in a couple ryhmes in there, a very little jokey jokes.

Knocking sounds on his front door. "Hey, guys, emergency neighborhood meeting, now!" Michael shouts from just outside the front door. "We'll be right there, Michael!" Robin shouts back. "If I walk out of here in these clothes, I'm toast. My soul is in your hands, Soulmate, what's it gonna be?" Robin asks, if worry was a person, he'd be it right about now. "Oh, stomach ache."

"I- uh, I don't know what to do here," Finney tells Robin, "This is a mess," He iterates, attempting to swallow the lump in his throat. "Morally, speaking, this is a putrid, disgusting bowl of ethical soup," Finney continues, rambling a bit.

"Okay, well, how about we just chill and go to the town meeting and talk it out after?" Robin asks, coming up to Finney's side from where the other is sitting on the couch.

"Great. Hey, how do I make that helper person show up?" Robin asks when Finney just stares at the ground in front of him intently.

"Hello? Front desk Man? Magical slave robot?" Robin tries, getting up off the couch and walking a bit around the living room. "Excuse me, Bruce?" Finney intercepts, Bruce appearing with a pleasant chime. "Hi, there," Bruce greets, Robin jumping back a bit at the intrusion.

"Still not used to it. Um, Bruce, I need... Quick question, can anyone access our search history, or is this is an incognito browsing situation like when you're stalking a cute mailman from your work computer?" Robin asks, chuckling a bit to himself at the memory. "It is one hundred percent confidential. No one can access what you ask me, including Michael. Now, what kind of porn would you like to see?" Bruce asks, a pleasant smile still present even through the slightly crude question. "No. No, no, no, no, not porn. I, um... I need clothes, like yours and Chidi's with the stripes," Robin replies, gesturing to Bruce's clothes and then to his own pajamas.

Bruce conjures the item from thin air and presents it to Robin who looks a little surprised. "There you go," Bruce says, smiling unwavering.

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"Everybody, everybody! Gather round, please, thank you, thank you. Obviously, there is something very wrong with this neighborhood. We don't know what it is, how long it will last, or what caused it. What do we know, Bruce?" Michael asks, and Bruce, standing beside him with that same smile even through the severe malfunctioning going on in the neighborhood, answers. "We know where it happened. Here,"

"Yes, thank you, Bruce. The chaos happened here. See, that's the trouble with these perfect systems, one little flaw can lead to... Well, it can lead to Gary over there." Michael says, pointing to a man with a cartoonish face, well more abstract but still. It isn't regular.

"Hey, Gary. Hang in there, buddy. Boy, my armpits are leaking. What is that called again?" Michael asks, turning to Bruce. "Sweat," "Right, right. Still not used to being in a human body." Michael says, moving his arms up and down for a second like a bird.

"And what do you do with sweat? Do you lick away, is that right?" Michael asks, trying to lick the part of his shirt in and around the armpit area. "Nope, you dab it with a cloth," Bruce says, not showing any signs of disgust. Robots are weird, confirmed. "Oh, right," Michael says, taking the cloth from Bruce.

"And then you lick the cloth? That seems weirder," "Michael. Look!" Billy says, his clothes turning back into his typical, over-the-top, attire. "Okay. That's a good sign. It could mean that this is almost over," Michael guess, pointing toward Billy. "Oh! Such a relief. That was my first time as a fashion don't, and I did not care for it."