"Hold on..."

I pull out my Bag of Holding and rummage through it.

"Dogeball...dodgeball..."

I pull out a football.

"Well, it's a ball, and you could probably dodge it easily enough. Look out, Adric!"

I throw the ball at playing.

"Playing? What playing?"

"Playing_with_boy, alias 'Adric', alias you. Just—nevermind."

"Where did Sonny get to?"

Edited by TropesForever on Sep 9th 2018 at 9:13:27 PM

Present!Playing:"Dunno. Anyway, I'll go back in time!"

In The Past

Past!Tropes:

Past!Playing:

Present!Playing: "You mean, AHHHHHHH!"

Present!Playing pushes Past!Playing into the path of the football Past!Tropes threw.

Past!Playing: "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Present!Playing: "Now that my job is done, let's see what the present is like!"

In The Present

Present!Playing: Wow. The apartment is mostly the same.

"Pointless time travel is the best time travel."

"HEY! It was not pointless! My left leg hurts from the football you did-not-but-also-did throw at me! Well, I pushed myself into the way of the football, but still."

"Touché."

“Alright, Larry and Curly, let’s calm down a smidge. Now, if we three are the only ones who are gonna beat Sonny in dodgeball, the three of us are gonna have to train, ya get me?”

"But how? Are you gonna become a tough coach?"

“I guess.”

Cut to Adric and Tropes in military uniforms, behind Taco in a slightly more official looking military uniform.

“Uh, the first rule of dodgeball, is to dodge, the ball.”

Taco turns and chucks two balls at Adric and Tropes.

"OW!"

Playing throws a red ball at Taco.

Taco catches the ball. “That’s you out twice, Playboy.”

Edited by TacoBadger on Sep 9th 2018 at 6:53:07 AM

"YOU SAID-!"

Taco puts his hands in an upside-down C, then moves it towards his fist.

"Fine."

Taco throws another ball, this time bouncing it off the apartment ceiling, toward Playboy.

"Wait...WHERE DO I GO WHEN I AM OUT?"

The ball hits Playboy in the head.

“In an actual game, you’d leave the playing field. But we’re just practicing.”

"Oh. Can I still play, Mr. Tacobadge?"

“Yeah, that way we’ll be ready to beat the tar out of Flowerboy.”

"Do you speak Spanish?"

“What does that have to do with anything?”

"Well,"

Playing throws a red ball at Taco.

"Este es un poema de sílaba. Un poema de sílaba/Un poema que tiene/El recuento de sílabas consistentes, como este, cuenta. Esto es/Uno. De todos modos, voy a/Solo escribe así ¡No! Porque escribir así/Es difícil. ¡Y el final!"

"Is language-based confusion a common tactic in this game?"

Taco ducks under the ball. “Vain jos tarkoitat sitä!”

"No. Anyway, TROPES, LOOK OUT FOR THE YELLOW BALL!"

Playing throws a yellow ball at Tropes head.

"Also, my poem translates to:

'THIS is a SYllable POem, A syllaBLE poem/A poem that HAS/THE count of CONsistent SYllaBLES, like this ONE, counts. This is/ONE. Anyway, I'm GOing to/JUST write like THIS No! BeCAUSE write LIKE this/IT'S hard. And THE end!'"

“I thought I turned your volume down.”