So this is it, Blobby. We are cornered, surrounded by a mob of very disgruntled Beards. I am so sweaty and breathless that I am fine with the Adventure ending forever, right now. I am sorry, Whiskerton. I am sorry, Moustachia. I have led you to ruination. Ruin Nation. A desolate country with no central government, but at least there is less running there.
Whiskerton: Man, Fred – you really done it this time! Why’d you go and spit in Fist-Face’s fist-face?
PF: It is not my fault your peoples are super absorbent!
Angry Mob: Get ‘em! Get the Moustachio spies!
S H H H H H H O O O O O M M M !
Angry Mob: Hey! Get back here you, varmints!
Baby ‘Stache: *meep!*
PF: What is going on? Why are we not currently being pummeled into tiny bits?
?: Sit tight, old bean. You’re quite safe now.
Whiskerton: The Royal Moustachio Air Force! You’ve saved our buns!
RMAF: Yes, yes. Cling tenaciously to our bristles, gents – we’re taking you to the castle!
PF: Gadzooks!
Current Mood: Flying! I am FLYING!!!
Discoveries Made: A new Emotion: "sweaty-relief-glee"!
Hereinto referenced: Angry Mobs ¤ Moustachia ¤ RMAF ¤ Whiskerton