Pop: what? I ain't hiding anything.

Amartía: ARE YOU SURE, BRO? YOU LOOK NERVOUS. *pokes his cheekbone*

Sprinkles: Yeah, you do kind of look nervous.

Pop: that's just my - uh - hormones..?

Amartía: ...HORMONES?

Sprinkles: i think it's stuff that makes teenagers... kinda weird and smelly.

Pop: hey, I don't stink!

Sprinkles: sorry... *internally scolds herself for being so awkward/kinda insensitive*

Amartía: BUT YOU'RE NOT A TEENAGER!

Pop: Well yeah, technically I'm 21 but me we're twins and you're almost 15, so yeah... hormones.

Sprinkles: I- doesn't matter. *kinda buries her face into her own hood*

Amartía: *pats Sprinkle's head* SHY CHALD

Sprinkles: But I'm only like one and a half years younger than you-

Amartía: *pats sprinkle's head again* SHY CHILD... ALSO BROTHER, YOU'RE NOT A TEEN IN ANY WAY SO MAYBE YOU COULD TELL ME WHY YOU'RE ACTING NERVOUS.

Pop: okay so I may or may not have sold somebody else's co-

Death: *walks into the room* alright, listen up midget with the pink hair. you're not s'posed tibia living, so if you'll excuse me- *takes out his scythe* ...i'll be taking you back to the afterlife.