Feathershine is bobbing her head along to some T.Ø.P. when the buzzer next to her rings. Mildly surprised, the she-cat quickly taps the side of the buzzer and turns off the music. She grabs a piece of gum.

Feathershine: Hello?

Nettlebounce: Problem. Mottledleaf is going on strike.

Feathershine: Am I supposed to care about this? *leans back in her chair and pops her bubblegum loudly.*

Nettlebounce: *sighs dramatically, because there is no other way to sigh in a spoof.* Probably. She cleans up the mess you make by putting gum underneath your desk.

Feathershine: *sniffs.* Fine. What do I have to do to get my janitor back?

Nettlebounce: Pay her.

Feathershine: But we're broke!

Nettlebounce: We share an Amazon account. I can see the gaming P.C. you just ordered. *rolls her eyes, because that is audible over a buzzer.*

Feathershine: Fineeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

It's obvious Feathershine isn't going to do anything.

When are protagonists in spoofs ever doing things correctly?

Nettlebounce: Oh, and turn down your music. I can hear your stupid top thing from all the way up here!

Feathershine: Twenty. One. Pilots.

Nettlebounce: *keeps talking.* You know, I think you should just spin some tops for entertainment instead. It'll be more quiet, and when Sandstone shows up and actually attempts to counsel some of your patients, your music might b—

Feathershine: *slams the off button on the buzzer.* I'M COMING, OKAY?

Nettlebounce: *shouts.* OF COURSE YOU ARE.

Feathershine types a few things on her computer and possibly orders a trampoline. She is our mysterious protagonist, after all. After choosing express shippi—she's not on Amazon, right.

Feathershine slides out of the room, already dreaming of her new tram—let me try this again.

Feathershine, now broke from totally not buying a trampoline, peeks underneath the couch cushions and finds a few quarters. Grinning, she snatches them up and darts toward the hallway toward Nettlebounce.

Feathershine: I think I found enough money to pay Mottledleaf! *holds up the quarter, which has a trampoline inscribed on it.*

Nettlebounce: *squints and takes the coin.* That's a coin to Chuckie Cheese's... 

Feathershine: Well do we have any patients?

Nettlebounce: *sighs.* Sandstone! Are you texting your boyfriend or can you tell me the schedule lineup?

Sandstone beautifully slips out of the other hallway looking beautifully beautiful. Her fur almost shimmering, the she-cat tosses a wad of paper onto Nettlebounce's desk and disappears, staring at her phone.

Nettlebounce: Thanks! *unballs the paper.* Hmm, you've got an appoin—

An angry-looking calico she-cat is dragging in a nearly identical smaller version of herself by the ear. The mother pushes through the door and gives her daughter a shove.

Heatherwind: Hi, I'm Heatherwind, and this is my daughter Weatherpaw.. fix her.

Nettlebounce: *peers over the counter at the kit, who is grumbling and licking down her fur.* And what are we fixing exactly? *smiles warmly.*

Weatherpaw: My mother thinks I'm addicted to "edgy music"

Feathershine: *ears perk up.* What kind of music do you like?

Weatherpaw: Twenty One Pilots, of course... a bit of Set It Off, maybe some Imagine Dragons.

Feathershine: *leaps up.* TØP IS THE BEST!!!!!!!!!!

Weatherpaw: *squeals.* See, mom! My couselor agrees with me!

Mottledleaf: *pops up from behind the counter and slams her head against the wall.* That. Is. Not. Helping. This. Problem. Feathershine.

Feathershine: *ignores.* And our names rhyme, too! We're meant to be soul sisters! I have tickets to a concert

Mottledleaf: WHY DON'T YOU TWO TALK ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS? *gestures toward Heatherwind and her daughter.* INSTEAD OF LISTENING TO TH—

Weatherpaw turns on some edgy music on her phone, and she starts to jam out with Feathershine.

Heatherwind: *swoons.*

By Rio. ⛈ I only like real pilots.