Work Text:
"Nuculer."
"Nuclear."
"N...Newk clear."
"Trott, mate, it's nuclear."
Alsmiffy, Trottimus, and Ross were sitting in their own corner of the courtyard screwing around as they always did.
"That's what I said." Trott corrected.
"No, it's nuclear." Smiffy actually corrected, making Ross laugh. "It is hard to say, I'll give you that, but the general consensus is nuclear."
"Nuclear." Ross tested it out.
"Nuclear." Trott repeated. Soon all three were sitting there repeating the word until they looked like idiots.
"Nuclear." Smiffy joined in, satisfied.
"Nuclur," Trott tried before laughing at the way the slime's face turned from satisfied to angry in less than a second.
"'Newcular,'" Ross said in a whiny voice. 'It's Newcular!' No it's not!"
"It's two sylables." Smiffy said as if he was an expert in such things as grammar.
"Nuclur." Trott repeated. "Nuclur, nuclur, nuclur." Ross was laughing, Smiffy just looked disappointed.
"Trott--" The slime started.
"You can't--" Ross joined.
Trott laughed. "Nuclear!" The other two started applauding jokingly. The three sirs spent the rest of their free period saying 'nuclear' wrong to the point where it sounded like other words.