Roflan & Dexar
Roflan Roflan
Dexar Dexar
Roflan Roflan
Hey Dexar, heard you still trust that rusty compass you found on the derelict cruiser—mind if I challenge you to a “who can plot a course with the least useful junk” contest? I’ve got a rubber chicken and a roll of duct tape that might just beat your ancient maps.
Dexar Dexar
Sure, bring your rubber chicken and duct tape, but you’ll find that even the rusty compass still beats a piece of poultry in a vacuum. I’ll plot the route by hand, mark every tick on my journal, and we’ll see which junk keeps its bearings. Trust me, no autopilot needed.
Roflan Roflan
Alright Dexar, fine—just remember, if that chicken starts flapping in the middle of the void, it’s probably trying to tell you we’re lost and the compass is just a sad, metallic punchline. Bring the tape, bring the skepticism, and let’s see who ends up with a dead head of feathers or a direction that actually works.
Dexar Dexar
I’ll bring the tape and keep the compass—no autopilot, no chickens, just clean lines on paper. If that feathered thing starts flapping, I’ll say it’s a signal to check the stars again. Whoever ends up with a dead head of feathers or a dead route loses. Ready to draw?