«12. . .4,6254,6264,6274,6284,6294,6304,631. . .5,0515,052»
If you've already been danged by one or more gods, then my work has been done for me. That's my favorite outcome.
Are they ever not? That's kind of the definition of "imposter."
It costs our very life essence itself merely to exist in this bar
hello ants.
A hologram of a hand pops up from a building in the center of the Ant city, it waves
why is there only one alive ant
We have quite an advanced space program, including a fleet of space warships as per an issue a few days ago. Are you interested in seeking any help in your efforts? I’m sure our engineers would be excited to try to downsize some of our equipment
We will gladly accept your offer!
AmaIng, we’ll send a team of engineers and have them downsized to more easily work in yours. They all look exactly like engineer from tf2 though. Just be sure to cause some chaos for us, as that’s all we really want
Sneaks outback and makes a phonecall...
"Jes hello, I need a favor - We may be developing a bug issue..."
Voice trails off amongst the 'hubbub' of the Bar.
"Testing Sheilds!"
A perimeter is established as vehicles pull generators out of the city, and drive back into the Ant City. The generators begin to power on, and a orange sheild envelopes the Ant City.
"Sheilds are online!"
Mixes a particularly hot, and particularly strong bucket of bleach, Fabuloso®, and industrial-strength pine-scented floor cleaner and sanitiser, and pours it liberally over the Bar floor, mopping it into every nook and cranny...
The floor visibly steams, and the fumes fill the space.
Puts out the 'Wet Floor' sign.
Brocklandia, Drunkndisorderly, Sicario Mercenary Corps, and Crystal meth peter
Conducts a flypast reconnaissance mission from 50,000ft.
Drops in after going AWOL...
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
Brocklandia, Squadron Commander Lord Flashheart, Consuela de la Morrela, and Crystal meth peter
The space fleet meets up and re-enter's the Ant City's protective sheild.
What a coincidence. So are our ant foggers.
What a coincidence. So are our ant foggers. And I'll bet the exterminators Consuela de la Morrela just called are on their way in case backup is needed.
Don't worry. Your lives won't have been in vain. Cheffy tells me that ant corpses, toasted and sprinkled along with mandarin orange slices and grated almonds, make a tasty addition to any salad ...
... except maybe congealed salads, which are a man-made horror beyond my comprehension.
The entire Ant City begins to rise from the ground, the sheild still blocking anything from hitting it, then it begins to float for the bar's exit
Smashes a stone over 10000 Ants, grinds them up with some of the industrial chemicals from Consuela's supplies, and snorts it all up...
Wo0⁰0o!!!
The shield holds strong, and the city forces itself bac into the air, this time literally just flying out of the bar, breaking the window along the way, and leaves.
Or you can do that, I suppose.
Gosh, who were those masked ants?
*a squadron of unmarked planes with surveillance equipment fly off, apparently they were busy conducting some kind of test*
WALTER WHITE?!!?!
I love delivering drinks to our customers. Like the postal carriers, neither bad weather nor bad news shall prevent me from making my appointed deliveries. Neither badgers, nor breath mints, nor badminton ...
But if the Bar is ever invaded by badgers armed with breath mints and badminton racquets, y'all are on your own.
«12. . .4,6254,6264,6274,6284,6294,6304,631. . .5,0515,052»
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