Oh, BLOBBY – I slept on a bed made of clouds last night! Hairy clouds!
I do believe we Professors ARE descended from Moustachios because I AM GETTING USED TO THIS! I AM SO GETTING USED TO THIS! GETTING USED TO THIS IN MY HEART HEART HEART!
Blobby: Please stop yelling into my log.
PF: I am SORRY, Blobby, but my soul will not cease its frolicking and that makes me EXCLAIM LOUDLY.
Prime Ministache: Good morning, gentlemen – I trust you slept well.
PF: Oh, Prime Ministache sir, I slept delectably!
Prime Ministache: Capital. And what about you, Mr. Whiskerton, how was your rest?
Whiskerton: Sir, I didn’t sleep.
Prime Ministache: Oh?
PF: How is that EVEN POSSIBLE?
Whiskerton: Well I’ll tell ya – I appreciate you sending the Royal Moustachio Air Force to save us from getting pulverized by my buddies and all, and I certainly am privileged to be in your fancy castle, but I’m feelin’ kinda rotten.
Prime Ministache: Like you have abandoned your People, perhaps?
Whiskerton: Yessir. Workin’ as a Royal Barber and hanging around Professor Fred here, it’s like I’m trying to be more civilized and so-phisticated than’s natural. It’s like I’m pretending to be a Moustachio when I’m just a lowly Beard. Those fellas don’t mean to be so ornery – but considering how none of them have as nice a job as me, I mean, I’d be angerfied myself!
Prime Ministache: Well, Whiskerton, we see a lot from up here that you “lowly” Beards do, and we’ve been keeping a close watch on you since you started taking care of the little Baby ‘Stache you rescued…
Baby ‘Stache: *meep!*
Whiskerton: Oh Moustachia? You know about her too? Good grief, I AM a sell-out!
PF: Well, clearly!
Prime Ministache: Mr. Whiskerton, your only ethical concern should be that you are TOO kind! To be honest, so many of the creatures we see from on high could learn something from you. The bickering between Beards and Moustachios, the Beans and their ridiculous legal system, those bonkers Hot Dogs with their immature King – it’s all simply madness!
Whiskerton: I suppose you’re right, sir – this IS a crazy world. I don’t know, even though I’m being pulled every which way, there’s something in me that’ll never turn away helpless critters like Moustachia and Fred here – even if it fetches me gobs of trouble. I just can’t say no to creatures in need. Sigh…
Prime Ministache: That’s why we saved you, Whiskerton – because someone should finally be rewarded for bringing our peoples together. I am getting on in years, and frankly, I can’t stomach much more of the disparity between Moustachios and Beards. You’re a remarkable fellow for seeing past what’s on all our hairy surfaces.
Whiskerton: Aw heck, thank you, sir.
PF: Whiskerton, you… you really want to help EVERYBODY?
Whiskerton: Well, yeah, I suppose so, Fred.
PF: *sniff* So… touching…
Whiskerton: What’s that?
PF: *BUH-BUH! buh-huh-huh!*
Prime Ministache: There there, Professor. Don’t weep, man.
Blobby: Just let him cry it out. It’s the only way now.
PF: He is just so NICE! *Guh-HUH!*
Prime Ministache: Oh my.
Whiskerton: It’s okay, Fred. Here take my hankerchief!
PF: *hoooonk!* A HANKY TO SNOT-CRY INTO! THE KINDNESS IS ENDLESS AND I HAVE BEEN A BIG JERK-MAN-HEAD TO YOU! *BAHHHH-huh-huh!*
Whiskerton: I forgive you, Fred.
PF: FORGIVENESS! *Bah-huh bah-huh bah-huh-huh-hic!*