Congrats Pickles, he actually startles when he hears that.
With the distortion he can't tell where it's coming from, except vaguely to his right, but considering the dimensions of this store stretch for infinity that isn't exactly helpful. The smell of the fog machines is actually a little nauseating after standing in this for so long and Pratt backs up towards the entrance a bit to try and get some fresh air. Or at least pumpkin spice air and not fog juice.
He's about to shake his head and make a joke because apparently both of them are having way too much fun with a halloween store fight, but he snarls immediately at that last part.
"I'm not ripping Sharky apart, I'm ripping you apart. Sharky deserves better than to be taken over by a fucking douchebag ghost. He survived the cult, the collapse, raiders and the full-on apocalypse. And all he wants to do here is chill and relax and make this shit a pleasure cruise. Then you showed up to fucking ruin that for him you absolute asshole!" His voice doesn't really do yelling, but there's definitely the sense that he would be screaming at Pickles if he could. "Of everyone on the fucking ship why him? The one fucking cheerful optimistic guy who fucking cares about people. Shoulda been anyone else. You coulda taken over me - no one would notice. Or give a shit. But no, you picked Sharky. And that's the last mistake you're going to make."
He is quite literally seeing red by the end of that, and the minute he hears the display go off and then the sound of Pickles footsteps he takes off running towards him. The instant he sees something moving that isn't an animatronic he is launching himself at it to tackle it into whatever shelving is around.
Not only does he have a gun and a taser on him, he also has a collapsible police baton, but no, he doesn't reach for any of those things like a normal fucking person, he's going to bludgeon Pickles to death with his fists the old fashioned way.
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With the distortion he can't tell where it's coming from, except vaguely to his right, but considering the dimensions of this store stretch for infinity that isn't exactly helpful. The smell of the fog machines is actually a little nauseating after standing in this for so long and Pratt backs up towards the entrance a bit to try and get some fresh air. Or at least pumpkin spice air and not fog juice.
He's about to shake his head and make a joke because apparently both of them are having way too much fun with a halloween store fight, but he snarls immediately at that last part.
"I'm not ripping Sharky apart, I'm ripping you apart. Sharky deserves better than to be taken over by a fucking douchebag ghost. He survived the cult, the collapse, raiders and the full-on apocalypse. And all he wants to do here is chill and relax and make this shit a pleasure cruise. Then you showed up to fucking ruin that for him you absolute asshole!" His voice doesn't really do yelling, but there's definitely the sense that he would be screaming at Pickles if he could. "Of everyone on the fucking ship why him? The one fucking cheerful optimistic guy who fucking cares about people. Shoulda been anyone else. You coulda taken over me - no one would notice. Or give a shit. But no, you picked Sharky. And that's the last mistake you're going to make."
He is quite literally seeing red by the end of that, and the minute he hears the display go off and then the sound of Pickles footsteps he takes off running towards him. The instant he sees something moving that isn't an animatronic he is launching himself at it to tackle it into whatever shelving is around.
Not only does he have a gun and a taser on him, he also has a collapsible police baton, but no, he doesn't reach for any of those things like a normal fucking person, he's going to bludgeon Pickles to death with his fists the old fashioned way.