TommyInnit's unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death

Chapter 18: I Pass The Phone Over To A Wrongun

Henry, fetch!" Tommy throws the stick across the living room.

Henry stares up at him.

Tommy raises an eyebrow expectantly, "Well, go on."

Henry sits down.

Tommy frowns. He turns to his best friend.

"Tubbo, how do you train cows?"

Tubbo pauses from where he is deconstructing the oven, drill in hand.

"You don't train cows, Tommy," The boy rolls his eyes, turning back to the kitchen machinery.

"That's fucking bullshit," Tommy scoffs. Seriously, does Tubbo think he's an idiot or something?

"It's really not, big man," Tubbo hums, "Henry's not a dog."

"Can I train Micheal?"

Tubbo stares at him. "No."

______

Tommy watches as Technoblade stumbles sluggishly into the kitchen, sweater sagging around his form.

Tommy snorts, "You look like shit."

Technoblade glances up at him.

Tommy snaps his mouth shut.

Yikes.

"I mean, you- you look like the shit," He chuckles nervously, "The shit of all shits if you get me."

"Be quiet," Technoblade mutters as he slumps over the kitchen table.

Ranboob walks into the kitchen, hair bedridden. He slumps over on the seat next to Technoblade.

What the fuck is wrong with them?

"What got shoved up your-"

"Don't," Ranboob mumbles into his arms, expression concealed.

This is unacceptable. Ranboob interrupting him?

Tommy glances over at Tubbo, who has successfully taken off the door of the oven and is doing some random shit to it.

"Tub, what the fuck happened to these guys?

Tubbo just hums, smiling, "They just did what they had to do."

Ominous.

"And what the fuck was that?"