You walk inside the building and immediately stop feeling scared. Despite the medical exterior the interior is warm and smells like fruit syrup.
Three beings sit around a table on beanbag chairs. One looks surprised, one tries to muffle a giggle, and the middle chokes out a amused hello.
“Oh woah hey there! You’re a lot earlier than expected…we’re still in the middle of our break, eheheh…Um, why don’t you just sit down with us until it’s over…a-and…why are you so dirty?”
You know, there’s a lot of problems with Mighty No. 9 but I gave it a shot anyway and I am so fucking pissed right now
SINCE THE DAWN OF VIDEO GAMES WE HAVE BEEN UNDER A UNIVERSAL UNDERSTANDING THAT “A” MEANS CONFIRM AND “B” MEANS CANCEL WHAT THE HELL IS THIS TOM FUCKERY WHO APPROVED THIS
