He saluted him.
He just sat at some leather chair, turning on a lamp besides him, and setting aside his hat. />
“. . .”
"...."
His muffled voice came from the wardrobe.
"...Can you move that robot-zombie thing out of here?"
“.. Of course. And it’s a Lycan, just call it some-“
✨there a potato flying around my room✨, yeetus deleteus, get out of room…..tus-
“Cyborg or whatever, I don’t really care. These things just wander around the place aimlessly, they should know not to come in here. -, -“
"Uh-huh..."
He pushed the wardrobe door open and crawled out.
“.. Welcome to the land of the.. non-living, how may I be of service?
"....Ya got any charcoal?"
“.. -insert pirate accent />-, I, I’m afraid not pal, but I do have a good deal of rum for ya. Just a pound of silver, and you can light a whole cargo ablaze”
"....I'm sorry, do you think-do you think charoal's some kinda-alchohol?"
“… What no, I use charcoal as-, I’m not an idiot ya dummy. I was trying to joke-. You know what, never mind.”
