Robbie's room...
Robbie: Man, just get out! You nonce!
Follower: I'm not getting out until you accept that I'm way better than you! And what even is a nonce?
Robbie: You don't need to know, fam, just leave.
Follower: Are you actually having a laugh? Are you deaf? I said I'm not leaving.
Robbie: So goddamn difficult! Get yourself out of my room!
Mini Ripper: Yeah, leave, you nonce!
Follower: Who even are you? Like, you actually reek... Do you want some spray?
Follower: *pulls out some perfume from a bag and sprays the two boys*
Robbie: What the hell, man?! What is that?! It stinks!
Mini Ripper: *coughing violently*
Follower: It's called spray, but I guess you're too dumb to even know what it is. But it doesn't matter, as long as you don't smell anymore.
Robbie: Before you did your witchcraft on me, I smelt fine! Now, I smell like some mixture of flowers that don't go well together at all! It's bloody nasty!
Follower: You dissing me?
Follower: *puts away her spray and places a hand on her hip*
Robbie: Nah, I'm dissing your fragrance water. But you deserve some dissing anyway, you hoe.
Follower: At least I'm getting laid more than you.
Robbie: Bruv, I'm a child. I don't want to get laid. I ain't a hoe like you, look at you, fam.
Follower: I look at myself everyday, in the mirror, and I always look amazing, so shut up.
Mini Ripper: But your clothes are so ripped and your hair is so messy...
Follower: Listen, you baby thing, my clothes are from Victoria Secret and I get my hair done at the hairdresser's everyday. I live a life of luxury, since I'm a princess. You guys can continue living like pathetic peasants. Bow down before your queen~
Robbie: Your clothes are so ripped, yeah, that you have no secrets! Everything is revealed! And who the hell is Victoria?! If she's making your clothes, she needs more money to buy more fabric, so there's no holes, like now, fam. Also, your hair actually be a wig, innit? Or is it weave?
Follower: It's neither. This is my natural and beautiful hair. And for your information, Victoria Secret is a brand. Guess you're too broke to understand. Sorry, I don't speak peasant.
Robbie: How you even communicating with us, then, b**ch?
Follower: It's called Google Translate. Search it up, dumbass.
Robbie: BrUh. I don't care, man. Can you get out now?!
Follower: Like I said earlier... No.
Mike: *bursts inside*
Mike: Robbiiiiiiie!
Mike: *has his arms out and runs towards Robbie, trying to hug him*
