[center] [img]http://i1339.photobucket.com/albums/o719/EthereanFire/B-K_zpssr2nzrlr.png[/img] [color=blue]Level:[/color] 2 [color=red]Day/Time:[/color] Day Two; Afternoon [color=blue]Location:[/color] Butter Building; Interior - 5th Floor [color=red]Tags:[/color] [color=deepskyblue]Phoenix Wright[/color] [@Leaves] [color=blue]Mentions:[/color] [color=cornflowerblue]Frisk[/color] [@Guardian Angel Haruki], [color=magenta]Alicia[/color] [@Zarkun], [color=00a99d]Cloud[/color] [@Holy Soldier] [color=red]Word Count:[/color] 785 [/center] Thankfully, if unsurprisingly, Frisk’s gambit for humorous diplomacy seemed to work--at least well enough to get his/herself past. All it took was some low-hanging punny humor that all but wrote itself. Now, everyone else just had to do the same and they could move forward without resistance. If the two bosses were as easily amused as impressions would suggest, then it shouldn’t be that hard to get a qualifying laugh out of them… for everyone but the two more tonally serious characters in the room, that is. They, specifically, were probably under far more pressure to perform, being out of their element and all. It’s said that comedy of harder to write for a reason, but who knows? Perhaps, it was merely [i]assumed[/i] that their sense of humor would be woefully lacking. Maybe, there was a chance that they could end up surprising everyone, and they would get their chance to do so after the lawyer, who visibly struggled to come up with anything that might work. [color=red]“Here’s a joke: You’re funny,”[/color] said the breegull sarcastically, deriding the lawyer for his attempt at humor. He was [i]bombing[/i], and he knew it. The party’s survival hinged on everyone’s individual comedic success, yet there Kazooie was halfway to proverbially booing the man off stage. Then, he dropped an actual punchline, and then to his knees, clearly lacking any confidence in his chances. [color=blue]“Hmm… maybe you guys should have mercy on him,”[/color] Banjo petitioned, hoping to bail the lawyer out. [color=blue]“I mean, he already looks beat. Why blow someone up if they’ve already [i]blown[/i] i-”[/color] He was stopped just shy of finishing his appeal by the delighted giggling that proved it to be unnecessary, as seemed to have gone unnoticed through, anyhow. [color=red]“Okay, I’ll give him that one.”[/color] [color=blue]“Well… as long as it works for [i]them[/i]…”[/color] Eyes then fell on the swordsman, who was too absorbed in thought to notice right away. In all likelihood, he was still trying to think of something funny--at least by some remotely passable definition of such--but one of the Bros quickly began to grow impatient with him. Tensions escalated to a frightening high when he threatened to bomb the remaining party as his brother talked him down from it. Eventually, the mercenary delivered. In line with every other joke told up to that point, it was painfully bad, but it became apparent that it was exactly what they needed when he had them falling on their back with uncontrollable laughter. At some point after that, the duo’s turn finally came around. [color=blue]“I guess we’re up. You remember any good--or bad--jokes?”[/color] [color=red]“Yeah. I think I know what we’re going for here.”[/color] While she didn’t appreciate being mistakenly referred to as a [color=0072bc]“chicken”[/color], Kazooie understood the circumstantial need to repress her characteristic urge to fire off insults in response. As difficult as it may be to dodge such a habit, it was important to remember that this wasn’t [i]their[/i] game anymore. They were unscripted now, so she didn’t [i]have[/i] to start fights (not that it would always unfailingly occur to her). [color=blue]“Just try to keep it safe for work,”[/color] Banjo reminded. They were E-rated mascots in an E-rated world, after all. [color=red]“Alright. What’s big, white, heavy, and can’t climb trees?”[/color] During the brief pause, Banjo pondered on what the answer might actually be. [color=blue][i]Boggy? Mrs. Boggy? Groggy?[/i][/color] The latter in particular stuck out in his mind with the keyword ‘heavy’ as a reminder of the time he had to physically carry him to the Witchyworld exit. Then again, they all fit that description. Big. White. Heavy. Probably couldn’t climb trees since they were polar bears. It didn’t really matter either way. This wasn’t a puzzle or life/death trivia question like he was used to, and none of those answers made sense as a punchline. He was clearly overthinking it. Three seconds pass. [color=red]“A fridge.”[/color] Of course. An anti-joke. A loaded setup with an absurdly obvious answer intended to subvert the idea behind it. It would probably work, though. However, a simple inventory malfunction threatened to jeopardize their efforts. Banjo noticed Frisk scrambling to relocate the loose explosive to minimize the damage done as well as just getting it safely away from everyone else. It didn’t seem advisable to leave them to take care of it alone, even if by some chance s/he knew what s/he was doing. [color=blue]“Erm… Kazooie? We should probably-”[/color] [color=red]“Hang on. I’ve got one more,”[/color] Kazooie interjected in a subdued chuckle, failing to even so much as notice, let alone acknowledge, the fact that a CHILD just passed them handling explosive ordinance. [color=red]“How did the hipster burn himself?”[/color] … [color=red]“He drank his coffee [i]before it was cool.[/i]”[/color]