"He does that!" Ramona calls back. "Just ignore it! It's the only way to survive!"
"THAT'S KIND OF DIFFICULT." Schuester is actually summoning knives into existence out of thin air as he talk-sings the lyrics to a Mos Def song. Scott flails with his sword, batting away the flying cutlery. "RAMONA TELL ME SOMETHING THAT CAN BEAT HIM."
"I don't know!" Ramona shouts. "He -- he's a condescending douchebag! He put on weirdly sexual performances with the choir kids! He's a cheater!"
"His hair is the worst," Wallace contributes thoughtfully, around a mouthful of Fritos.
Ramona's head slowly turns and she shoots him an unimpressed look.
He never turns his attention away from the spectacle of Scott Pilgrim running away from a 30-year-old white man who is doing Broadway-worthy kick-turns while rapping the Sugarhill Gang's classic number. He cups his free hand around his mouth. "Scott, tell him how bad his dance moves suck!"
"--What?" barks Schuester, his head snapping toward the two of them on the steps, and Scott takes the opportunity to bash the back of his head in with the hilt of his sword. Schuester collapses into a pile of coins.
+5 AGILITY +10 INSIGHT
SCOTT HAS GAINED THE POWER OF BEING ABLE TO RECOGNIZE A DOUCHEBAG WHEN HE SEES ONE
"Awwwww! Lamest power ever!" Scott complains.
"I know," says Kim Pine, from her seat beside Ramona. (Scott gawks at her. When did Kim get here?!) "It's gonna go off every time you look in the mirror." Somebody else sitting on the steps snorts.
Scott's face goes: >:( and then he marches out of the street. His sword tip drags along the pavement behind him.
no subject
"THAT'S KIND OF DIFFICULT." Schuester is actually summoning knives into existence out of thin air as he talk-sings the lyrics to a Mos Def song. Scott flails with his sword, batting away the flying cutlery. "RAMONA TELL ME SOMETHING THAT CAN BEAT HIM."
"I don't know!" Ramona shouts. "He -- he's a condescending douchebag! He put on weirdly sexual performances with the choir kids! He's a cheater!"
"His hair is the worst," Wallace contributes thoughtfully, around a mouthful of Fritos.
Ramona's head slowly turns and she shoots him an unimpressed look.
He never turns his attention away from the spectacle of Scott Pilgrim running away from a 30-year-old white man who is doing Broadway-worthy kick-turns while rapping the Sugarhill Gang's classic number. He cups his free hand around his mouth. "Scott, tell him how bad his dance moves suck!"
"--What?" barks Schuester, his head snapping toward the two of them on the steps, and Scott takes the opportunity to bash the back of his head in with the hilt of his sword. Schuester collapses into a pile of coins.
+5 AGILITY
+10 INSIGHT
SCOTT HAS GAINED THE POWER OF BEING ABLE TO RECOGNIZE A DOUCHEBAG WHEN HE SEES ONE
"Awwwww! Lamest power ever!" Scott complains.
"I know," says Kim Pine, from her seat beside Ramona. (Scott gawks at her. When did Kim get here?!) "It's gonna go off every time you look in the mirror." Somebody else sitting on the steps snorts.
Scott's face goes: >:( and then he marches out of the street. His sword tip drags along the pavement behind him.