BBS // Action

[om_nom_namur]

The Great King Pirate Marco's reign is near its end. He's borne his burden well and now the time has come to pass the lofty Balamb Crown. Brave, charming, and totally available, Portgas D. Ace is certain to be named Prince, as well he ought. A more fitting heir will not be found in all of Balamb. But what of the King? Oh yes, what indeed? Three brothers have been chosen likely to fill the King Pirate's glittery throne. They have been quiet thus far, but no longer! It is time for action! For men and brothers to clash in merriment! It is time for war.

A War of Succession.

SeeD Instructor THATCH and SeeD Instructor ESPIO are hereby challenged to a series of feats of strength and fortitude. They are to meet with SeeD Instructor Namur upon the Quad on Monday, being the Twenty-Eighth day of October at 1700 or else they shall henceforth be known and appraised throughout this great Garden by the title of Guppyshits.

[If anyone believes Namur didn't get help writing that piece of fine literature, they will be dead wrong. Regardless, the gauntlet has been thrown. Namur will be out on the Quad dancing to his boombox while he waits for Thatch and Espio to show up. There's a crate of turnips in the grass behind the boombox, three jugs of apple cider, and two construction paper signs emblazoned with the word "GUPPYSHIT" in traditional graffiti font. A small crowd of curious onlookers has begun to gather. All that's missing are the challenged contenders.]

Comments

[Action!]

[fionna_time]

[As if she wouldn't be here. Fionna is way out in the front, curious to see what Thatch would do and what more she could learn about Espio. While enjoying several snacks, of course.]

Yo, Namur! How's this gonna go? Are you challenging them to a dance off?

[She DID want to see that, actually].

[espio]

[...actually, someone didn't see the notice, otherwise he might be asking just who helped Namur write up that challenge. No, Espio wandered to the Quad on his own, a little bit late after making a quick something to eat and taking it out with him.

On seeing what was going on?]

Uhh...

What exactly are you doing?

[thatched]

Though I have no intention of becoming King, I can't let this pass without comment. In sort for you tl;dr flat faced bone headed string of giant goldfish turd, bring it on.