PF: All righty, Blobby and Roy. Whiskerton has brought me to his Beard-Shack. I must convince this Beard Hair Hill Barber to cease his hair mowing so that I may get my Bean Gas and fly away from all these incessant troubles!
Whiskerton: Come on in, friend. Have a seat.
PF: Thank you for inviting me into your home, kind sir. I have much business to discuss with you.
Whiskerton: Business? You’re not gonna try ‘n sell me enchanted teeth or some other such crud?
PF: Enchanted Teeth! Ho Ho! What a HI-larious proposition! Ho ho! You are HI-LARIOUS FOREVER!
Whiskerton: Well, what’re you about then?
PF: Well, my goodly fellow – I would like to give you the chance of a LIFETIME. Have you ever heard of a little thing called MAGIC?
Whiskerton: ?
PF: Well, sir, I have here a stupendous, non-horrendous, MAGICAL PHOTO-PAITINING SEPTAPUS!
Roy: Say what now?
Whiskerton: I don’t know what the words you’re saying are…
PF: That is right, my cousin – he can photo-paint you a photo-painting instantaneous-like with just a few flicks of his tentacles.
Whiskerton: I don’t think…
PF: Did I mention he is ENCHANTED?
Roy: I should photo-paint his mouth shut…
PF: …AND all you would need to do to own this little be-tentacled wizard is to quit your job forever! No payment required!
Whiskerton: My job? Oh no. No, sir, no, thank you! I’m a Royal Barber! I got the best job a Beard like me can get in this here Moustachio Territory!
PF: Not so fast! Act now, and receive your very own Stenographer Blob!
Blobby: !
Whiskerton: Sorry, pal. I wouldn’t trade my job for every friend you got in that there log!
PF: Please! The Mayor of Bean Village is going to give me Bean Gas to power my Kerchief Dirigible if I can just make the periodic Hairstorm that curses his lands cease.
Whiskerton: Well, I’d like to help you, but even if I quit, there are a hundred of us Royal Barbers, and we got strict orders to keep these hills shorn short!
PF: A hundred! Drat sandwich! I am never going to return to the skies!
Whiskerton: Now buck up, little fella. You can fly cantcha? You’re a Moustachio! All Moustachios can fly!
PF: No, I am not.
Whiskerton: Are you sure? I mean, you look kinda like one, ‘cept for that pale bulbous growth that’s protrudin’ out your body.
PF: Sir! I shall have you know that this pale bulbous growth IS my body. My moustache is subservient to my face, not the other way around!
Whiskerton: A Moustache a servant? Maybe you DO know magic… Well, if you’d like to stay for a stretch while you pick up them shattered pieces called your life, by all means, stay with me!
PF: *Sigh* Yes, I believe I will have to. Thank you, Mr. Whiskerton.
Whiskerton: Not a problem. I could use a new friend.
PF: I as well. Though I promise to cease the annoying habit that I have developed to try and exchange my friends for goods and services.
Whiskerton: Thanks!
Roy: I’m gonna draw stuff on his face when he goes to sleep.
Blobby: Yeah, I was gonna say.
Current Mood: Defeated and Hopeful.
Discoveries Made: Friendship! Do you HEAR ME! FRIENDS FOREVER!
Hereinto referenced: Blobby ¤ Friendship ¤ Roy ¤ Royal Barber ¤ Whiskerton
