Im Not Sorry

Jorts

Sneeg's pov

I'm bored, me and Frank have been in here for far too long, all I know is that it's been a couple of days.

"Hey, random question, what do you think about jorts?"

'Do you mean jean shorts?' Frank asks back.

"Yeah, I've never been super interested in them myself, I was just wondering."

'I suppose they are fine, it really depends on what type we are talking about.'

"Yea-"

There was a large bang right outside the cage.

"Did someone just mention jorts?" A voice calls out.

"Oh no..."

"Oh boy, I sure do love jorts, I mean it's really takin over now. Oh wait... I just realized, you can't see." The slime demon says outside the tarp.

"Yeah, all I see is my buddy Frank, two buckets, a window, and a tarp." I reply dryly.

"Yeah, I had this plan, I was gonna kick down the door, you were gonna see it, it was... you know what, never mind. Wasn't interested anyways."

"What were you gonna show?"

Frank gives a cautious glance, but says nothing.

"Doesn't matter, ghouls fix the door, we'll wait for the next unfortunate soul to stumble across my cabin after. I'm gonna go visit gran gran."

The ghouls only groan in affirmation as I shrug at Frank.

'I wouldn't be surprised if he put on jorts.' Frank tells me.

"Yeah, that would make sense." I tell him as I settle back down from when we were visited.

What a weird day.