Quoted By:
Your name is <span class="mu-i">DIESEL</span>, okay?! <span class="mu-s">DIESEL CRASH!</span> It takes you a moment to realize you’re shouting at the girl, but once you do you manage to calm down a bit.
And <span class="mu-i">no</span>, you sigh, pausing between sentences to massage your temples, you’re <span class="mu-i">not</span> a-
“<span class="mu-s">DIESEL CRASH,</span> huh?” Remarks the girl as she takes a seat on a nearby railing, “I’ve heard some weird pseudonyms before, bub, but that one’s downright self-deprecating.”
It’s not a <span class="mu-i">pseudonym,</span> th-
“So let’s take a trip down this spider web one last time, huh, <span class="mu-i">Diesel?</span>” The redhead suggests, pausing to give a knowing wink at your first name. “You’re not a student at <span class="mu-s">GREENRIDGE HIGH</span>-”
Nope, you smirk, puffing out your <span class="mu-s">MANLY CHEST,</span> You’re at <span class="mu-s">SANDCASTLE HIGH!</span> <span class="mu-s">GO SANDCRABS-</span>
“And lemme guess:” she interrupts, interrupting your <span class="mu-i">own</span> interruption like a pro, “you’re heading to <span class="mu-s">HAUSER ISLAND</span> to deliver pizzas for <span class="mu-s">MINA HAUSER’S BIG GRAD BASH</span>, but you’re dressed casual because your <span class="mu-s">UNCLE EMILIO</span> insisted on you trying to crash here for the night instead of dropping off the goods and rushing to grab this here ferry back to the mainland…”
She pauses mid-explanation to give you a sideways glance.
“On account of your <span class="mu-s">SEA SICKNESS</span>, of course. And because he loves you.”
It takes your brain a few seconds to meet the girl at the station, but when it does all you can do is sputter “<span class="mu-i">Y-yYEA! H-how-</span>”
“Because you just told me, <span class="mu-i">sandcrab</span>.” Interjects the redhead as she sends a pair of <span class="mu-s">GUN FINGAHS</span> your way! “You’d be surprised what a little speculation can get ya in this gig… well anyways, that’s swell, chief, because you’re <span class="mu-i">exactly</span> the kind of knight in tracksuited armor I need tonight…”
Uh, you stammer, okay, <span class="mu-i">wow</span>... <span class="mu-i">tonight?</span>
Wait, hold on a damn second–you were chasing <span class="mu-s">HER!</span> You’v-
“Pictures, right? Don’t worry, they’ll be deleted.” She smiles as she fiddles with the <span class="mu-s">CAMERA</span> behind her back. “<span class="mu-i">IF</span> they ever existed, of course.”
Okay, hold on a sec! You’ve got questions of your own!
“Well by all means, don’t let me keep ya.” The girl smirks as she idly adjusts her hair. “Figure you’ve earned an answer or two.”
Damn right you have! What do you ask?
>WHO THE HELL ARE YOU ANYWAYS?
>WHAT DOES SHE NEED YOU FOR, EXACTLY?
>WHAT’S THE SCOOP ON THIS PARTY?
>WAIT, HAUSER?
>WHY DID YOU TAKE A PICTURE OF ME FALLING, EXACTLY?
>SCREW THIS-I’M GONNA GO BEFORE YOU GIVE ME AN ANEURYSM…
>WRITE-IN!
