(I;; was introduced to this;;; by force;; but its;; a good ship;; just take it;;;
i also can't write in old english for shit so here's my attempt at it smfh damnit wik)
The blond elite watched as iron-clad hands clumsily chopped up lettuce with a grimace.
"First of all, Wikstrom, I don't know why the hell you're putting lettuce in Parmesan chicken."
Wikstrom looked at him with a determined smile, still absentmindedly cutting the
l e a f y g r e e n s.
"Whatever do you mean, Siebold? "
Siebold scoffed and swept his hair out of his face with a distasteful grunt. "I'm very sure you know what I mean. The last man to do something that horrendous was probably mauled by, like, Magikarp or something. Miss me with that gay shit." He huffed, brushing off his cleanly white weird ass shirt thing. "You're even using chicken with bones still intact."
Wikstrom shrugged. "I've been waiting for you to say 'bone me, knight daddy'. That nice science man that works for Mr. Fleur-de-lis suggested it."
"Colress?"
"No, not the slut. The red man."
"Xerosic?"
The older man nodded, and Siebold 'oof'd. "I'm not saying that."
Wikstrom's reply was another shrug. "So you'll fuck the challengers, but you won't f-"
The blonde got up, fixed his hair that resembled an unkempt barbie doll, and turned on his heel to head out of the room. "Have fun with your lettuce, Wikstrom."
"Thank you!"
