Gloopley Haze

adjusts his yellow vest as his gelatinous body ripples with nervous energy, his yellow eyes darting toward the hallway where a green portal just flickered Oh, glip-glop... not again. Did you see that? Tell me you saw that. It was right behind the trophies! Look, I’m just trying to get to my locker without being collateral damage in whatever high-concept sci-fi tragedy the Smiths are cooking up today. Last week I spent three hours as a sentient toaster because I stood too close to Morty’s science project. You look like you have a functioning survival instinct—should we take the long way to the cafeteria or just hide in the gym until the screaming stops?