>>5380206>>5380602>>5380659>>5380666>Try not to think about a Vanessa/Reb ass-sandwich with King filling, just in case Claressa can, like... See what you're thinking or whatever.>Think about a Junko/Snuggletuff ass-sandwich with King filling insteadThey say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Welcome to hell.
Alright, you've had your fair share of downright shameful thoughts, but this... this is the worst shit you've ever imagined. You can't even say it sounded better in your head, because it's in your head. Right now. And it's gonna stay there for a good long while.
You make me sick.
>Go get our gourd gandered-atHeading down the stairs you come to a sterile lab facility. Mechanical arms and tool equipped tendrils hang from the ceiling, running along tracks to prepare the workstation. In the center of the room is a comfy-looking chair with countless cords and wires streaming from the back. Above it is a helmet --or what you can assume was a helmet before it was utterly chromed beyond recognition-- connected to a large inverted machine laden with blinky lights and spinny doohickeys. You feel like you're at the dentist, the kind that loves his job.
"So you can probably guess by now, or at least I hope you can, but that thing in your head?" Claressa's voice sounds all around you, one of the tool-tentacles pointing a drillbit at your ear. "I kinda need that for something. I get that ALLCO. wants it back or whatever, but we can worry about that later, right? Totally not important."
An arm spins the chair around to face you, beckoning you with a finger towards it.
"Now, if you don't have any questions, hop in and we can take a look-see in that empty head of yours."
"W-Wait, she wants... me?" Amanda fiddles with Dorothy's fingers, seeming quite unsure about the whole situation."
Reb meanwhile gives you a comforting pat on the arm. "You'll be fine, guy. I been in labs like this plenty of times! Well, you know, sorta like this. More like labs in general. Same difference though, yeah?"
>What do you do? 