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[moveslikestrider]

Dave: Get your damn gear.

Audio | Text | Video | Action

Comments

Voice

[usedshooshpap]

You mean I'm supposed to run off and fetch said morsels and present my masticating them to your boy band face?

Voice

[moveslikestrider]

Why would I want to watch you eat it? I trust your word. Do you really think I belong in a boy band? Do I look like the sort of tool that would pose all pretty for the camera and belt out shitty pop lyrics?

Voice

[usedshooshpap]

Yes.

Voice

[moveslikestrider]

Okay, if you're going to play that card. You look like one of those talk show hosts or angry stand up artists that spend most of the time ranting on and making gestures with their hands. You are Dennis Leary. It is you.

Voice

[usedshooshpap]

Thank you, Dave. You say the cutest things. Come, whisper more sweet nothings into the Gear so that I might fan myself and swoon.

Voice

[moveslikestrider]

Nah, I ain't a home wrecker.

...

Anyway, I'll go grab that delicious bet you challenged me to. I know a good place in town for it.

Voice

[usedshooshpap]

Yeah... Be right back I guess.

Voice

[moveslikestrider]

[Fifteen minutes later, he returns to the feed with the sizzling sound of a delicious fajita plate and the clunk of it against a table.] You ready?

Voice

[usedshooshpap]

Mostly. I had to get bagged pretzels because there were no stands open or anything.

Voice

[moveslikestrider]

Let me know when you're ready to get this started.

video

[usedshooshpap]

[ clicks on video! ]

Let's do it.