Maybe Rotten May Be Rotten- lazy town x reader

Finale

You couldn't really tell what kind of place the Purple was.

You knew Robbie would be inside. You knew it from the moment you saw its neon sign, its lack of windows, its purple theme. You knew he had no idea what kind of vibes it gave off to literally anyone not born and raised on Lazy Town either.

This statement also applied to the rest of your search party. Despite their complaints, you were firm on them. They would have to wait outside while you searched for Robbie alone.

Once you crossed the Purple's steely double doors (which were actually just wood, you noticed, they had been painted to look like steel), most of your fears disappeared.

It was just a restaurant.

Sections were curtained off with velvet drapes, in a mysterious or a suspicious way, depending of how you wanted to look at it, but the immediately visible part seemed to be Lazy Town resident friendly.

Plastic tables glowed different colours from the inside, the lights in them providing most of the lighting for the place. It was not very good lighting, though, so the room was very dim. The walls that were not curtained off (you were pretty sure the curtains led somewhere, though) were covered by tropical fish tanks, creatures of every color on the spectrum swimming peacefully inside. You glimpsed a screen displaying karaoke lyrics in a distant wall, and even though you could hear a very passionate man singing incorrect lyrics to Adele over the trendy music that was playing, you weren't able to see very well the section of the restaurant where all this was happening. Purple staff wearing remarkably trendy clothes and futuristic sunglasses busied around the tables in an organised chaos, carrying trays with a number of plates you had never seen before and could not name. A brunette wearing pastel pink lipstick, and an outfit that resembled a fashionable schoolgirl uniform was quick to approach you.

"Hello, welcome to the Purple! Would you like a table, or would you rather go to a different section?" She asked, gesturing at the different curtains around you.

"Oh. I... actually, I'm just looking for a... friend here, I think his car's getting towed outside. He's... tall? He's probably wearing purple. I think he might be here, he's been missing for a while and I—"

"Oh!" The girl interrupted. "Oh, sorry, um, you mean Rob? I knew someone would come for him soon, he's— here, come with me." She grabbed your arm, to your bewilderment, and started guiding you towards the back of the restaurant, where the karaoke boomed. You dodged tables, waiters and things on the floor, barely keeping up her pace. "He's crazy, dude. But in a good way. He actually came here and used the microphone to sing his own song— that was cute— but then Tyrone saw him, and he told Max that he would give her five if she dared the dude to drink the whole bottle of vinegar, and she's not one to say no to that kind of thing, really, I think someone made her lick a parking lot once, so she went, and Rob actually started drinking the whole bottle of vinegar, and then he got pretty emotional and picked 'Someone Like You' from the karaoke machine. Well, I don't think he's ever heard the song before, but there he is. Doing his thing. It's like he doesn't have taste buds or anything, he just went and drank the whole bottle of vinegar. By the way, I like your outfit. Where did you get that shirt? Did you do your own makeup?"

The girl spoke remarkably fast. Concentrating in what she was saying and on making your way through the restaurant had made you confused. "No, no... wait a second. Did you get him drunk? On vinegar? Is that what you're telling me? Wait, how do you even know his name?"

You thought she would answer, but then you arrived to the karaoke section and the scene pretty much spoke for itself. The area had much better lighting than the front of the Purple, so it provided the perfect setup for you to walk in and see Robbie, microphone in hand, singing his heart out, standing on top of the bar, knocking off drinks and terrorising the bartender and a variety of guests, bathed in golden light, with a suit you had never seen him wear before and a huge name tag on his lapel. The tag, sure enough, read 'ROB', and he sang very passionate yet very incorrect lyrics, even though he was reading the words from the screen. Two waiters stood near the back wall, watching.