Tropers: The Series

"Patience, young grasshopper. One day you will learn the art of letting the TARDIS take its sweet-ass time... actually Chey, can you make this thing go faster?"

Edited by CustardAndPie on Jan 10th 2021 at 4:24:14 AM

I am not a grasshopper. Do not call me that.

"Not with that attitude!" Custard says, the face on their monitor turning into pixel art of a grasshopper.

Tamatoa also chases after the tropers.

Give it up, you two! I've haven't lost a single time since the end of season 4! You don't even wanna bother opposing me! Er, us!

(Chey was now seated and nursing Delilah.)
"We should arrive in a couple minutes."

"Sweet! Hopefully we're not going to be greeted by a singing snowman!"

I would loathe that.

"Is there anything you do like Mad? Just curious"

"Finally... we're almost there!"

Firstly, that's Mad 8 to you. Secondly, yes. I do like a lot of things.

They caress their suitcase.

"...I'm sorry, to me? Yeah right"

Avie scoffs

"I'm glad we're almost there, anyhow"

Custard eyes Mad's handling of the suitcase suspiciously.

"...I feel like I should be concerned"

You should be concerned. You should be afraid.

They whisper to the suitcase, I'm coming for you, sweetie pie...

"'Sweetie-pie'?"

m8 glares at Custard. DON'T TOUCH.

"Okay what the hell man.."

She grips her wand

"...Touch? I mean, I can't exactly touch it..."

Anyway, let's prepare to land. It's best we don some winter protection gear.

Custard spins and is now donning a scarf and ushanka.

"Done and done"

Avie puts on mittens, snow boots, a beanie and a heavy coat over her sweater

"The weather is gonna be a lot harsher outside.."

m8 just kinda... biologically grows winter gear.

That was convenient.

Zanreo puts on a coat, a beanie and a scarf. "Looking great!"

Santa's Workshop

"Well, this is a turn of events," I say. "Didn't think they'd actually follow us."

I jump onto a conveyor belt full of toys, holding my hand out to lift Tropes up with me.

Then, I run along the belt, knocking toys aside and startling elves at every turn, jumping from belt to belt in an attempt to reach the highest one.

"Elves of the North Pole!" I shout as I run. "Are you really going to let yourselves be pushed around like this?! Aren't you sick of cowtowing to the demands of every ugly-faced moron who marches in and calls himself your leader?!? You may think yourselves weak, but when I hear the word elves, I think of a great, intelligent, and immensely powerful race of magical creatures!! Come, join me, not as your leader but as your comrade, and unite all your talents and holiday cheer against these menaces to society who dare take up the mantle of Santa Claus! Demand higher wages! Shorter hours! Dental insurance! Show these purple motherfuckers that you are not ones to be pushed around!!! Aren't you sick of being nice?! Don't you just want to go APESHIT?!?"

As I finish my speech, I leap off the final belt, rolling into a badass pose, before quickly getting up and running to the holiday forge as I chant an invigorating warcry.

"The purple plumber is unfair! The giant crab is over there! Standing at the concession! Plotting our oppression!"

Knife throws on a heavy winter jacket and a beanie. "Let's go!"

Now, may we step out and begin our journey?