[Well, it's not always just that they're interested in other things. Sometimes they're dead. Or both.
He manfully doesn't blast the sudden projectile out of the air in a fit of panic--he has PTSD, Piccolo, please don't throw things at his face--but it's kind of close. He catches it before it smashes into the ground at least. That might've been an awkward one to explain away.]
Alright, alright. I'm going.
[He's going to look kind of ridiculous carrying two bikes with his arm through the frames, and a clock in the other hand.
But, as he lifts off, it at least looks like his shield to keep the rain off is mostly working.]
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He manfully doesn't blast the sudden projectile out of the air in a fit of panic--he has PTSD, Piccolo, please don't throw things at his face--but it's kind of close. He catches it before it smashes into the ground at least. That might've been an awkward one to explain away.]
Alright, alright. I'm going.
[He's going to look kind of ridiculous carrying two bikes with his arm through the frames, and a clock in the other hand.
But, as he lifts off, it at least looks like his shield to keep the rain off is mostly working.]
Later.