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"No."
"C'monn, Joel! C'monnnn... pleeeeaseeeee? Pretty please? Pretty pretty pretty please? Prettiest please? For meeee?"
Gem stared at him, doe-eyed — blummin' literally, 'cause she was a blummin' deer and that meant she could make her pupils go all big 'n innocent and cute like a newborn puppy or perhaps a small child on mydriatics.
"Nope, nononononupe, naaaaah, absolutely not. Never. Forget it. Has my voice gone all blummin' robo-y? Lemme enunciate; NUH-OH. Read my lips, Gem, read my leeeeeeps; N-O. No. Am I speakin' another blummin' language? 'Kay then, let's try Spanish! C'mon, Gem! Hi, I'm Dora, can you help me? Say it with me, now; ¡Quiero una tortuga grande! Now, you try!"
"'Kayyyyy, so, I don't even know Spanish much, but I doubt you said what you think you said, there." Scott — dumbly and stupidly and unhelpfully and, also, dumbly — interjected.
Before Joel could send Scott on a lovely all-exclusive vacation to Spanish without the s and also if you moved i to behind n, Gem interrupted him with a whine of, "We can't just leave him to the streetsssssss! That'd be so mean! He's been betrayed by his allies, he's like a little puppy left out in the rain, he's so sad and pathetic, he'll die all on his own—"
"—I'm perfectly fine with that, sounds ideal, actually—"
"—Look at him, Joelllll..." Gem bemoaned, eyes roundin' with innocence and whimsy like she was a flippin' baby animal with proptosis as she puffed up Scott's cheeks in her hands, making him look like an especially punchable chipmuck. "He's just a baby! A little guy! He's just a little babyyyyy!"
"I'm literally just a little baby." Scott agreed, unbabyily. Rather elderlyly, geriatrically, actually.
"He's, like, blummin' — he's blummin' — he — he's twenty six! He's, like — he's, like... what? Two — three? — two years younger than bloody normal! The only baby he is a... a blummin' — a... a cryloserbaby! Yeah! Ha! Phew. Nailed it."
"Aww, Joel, you're calling me baby?"
"Wah— tah— hu— you—" Forget spontaneous combustion, Joel was about to undergo spontaneous asphyxiation from sheer rage. "I'm — 'xcuse you, I'm — I am married! Happily! I— wh — wai — hang on, you're married! Hey! 'old up! You're also married!" Joel gaped, whirling around his finger on the double-double — quadruple? — crosser with a sneer, "He's a, a — he's — double homewrecker! He's tryin'a go for infidelity squared, Gem! He's adulter — adultinger — adult's literally in the blummin' word!"
"Okay, first off, not married, ew. And, even if I was — will? — I've actively already, like, pre-marriage divorced Pearl, so I'm fine, probably, just did the legal proceedings reverse order! Also, even if I wasn't, Pearl's already cheated on me before, so, not like he could really complain, anyway. Plus, this is all purely hypothetical, because that was a joke. You are totally not my type." Scott paused, then added with a tsk, "Not really into older men, sorry. I like 'em when they still have some hair on their head, y'know?"
cobblestone tower 'till he was on yellow so he could legally commit vehicular manslaughter. The only thing preventin' him from turning this homo turn 'cide was Gem's arms snaking 'round his torso like a stupid anti-murder seatbelt to keep him from committing a hate crime against the entire populace of blue-haired twinks on the server.
"Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseeeeeeee let me keep him? Pleaseeeeee? You'd be the best big brother ever! In the whooooole world!" Gem beseeched; bargained, really, 'cos havin' a one-up Fwhip and Sausage was a high-value commodity and she knew it was a bargainin' chip he couldn't resist passing up. The sly devil, her. Eugh, curse his massively overinflated and also insanely handsome and muscular ego.
"We'd havf'ta change our alliance's blummin' name, then, because I am not. Under any circumstances. Callin' that guy my Family." Joel sneered with a scowl as he wriggled out of her grasp, pointing at the muppet with his thumb, 'cause the guy didn't deserve the privilege of being pointed with with his pointer finger. Only finger the bloody idiot deserved was his blummin' middle, that one did.
"Oh! Oh! Buuut, but, what if you don't have to? He doesn't have to be part of the Family, persay — he can be, likeeeee... our dog! Or something! Yeah!" Gem clapped her hands together giddly, bouncin' on the the tips of her hooves. "The Family pet!"
Scott's snout crinkled. "Em? Eh-hem? Excuse me—?"Joel tuned out Scott's yapping — bloody blummin' hell, didn't shut up much, did he? They'd need to get this guy a shock collar or sumthin', christ, man.
"I let you keep your ugly car! It's only fair you let me keep a Scott. I promissssse I'll take of him! I'll clean up after him and take him for walks and everythinggggg! You won't even notice he's here! I swear!"
"You know I'm allergic to Scotts, Gem! He's gunna get his blummin' Scott germs and allergens on everythin'!"
"But I've been so sad after I had to euthanize my first Scott last season, Joellll..."
"—I'm sorry, after you had to what me?" Scott yelped.
"—Shush! Zip it, boy!" Joel hissed at Scott, then turned to Gem with a sigh, "Bloody heck. See that? He ain't got no manners, Gem! Always barking all like that, how are we gonna get any sleep? Never shuts up, I tell you! The neighbours'll complain. They're the Tuff Guys, not the Ruff Guys."
"I can train him! He'll be super, super quiet — not a peep! He promises!" As if tryin'a prove proof of concept, Gem slapped a hand over Scott's muzzle 'fore the retort that was probably on the tip of the mutt's blummin' tongue could make air. "You know I've had a Scott before! They're super easy to train! Like, suuuper easy! And — and, super loyal, too! He killed himself for me, like, two whole times last season! Two. Whole. Times!"
"I whated myself how many times—?!" Scott's incessant barking was met with a shushing pat on the face by Gem, making the thing bare teeth in a scowl. But, 'least, he didn't bite her hand. That was something. Not that Joel'd be opposed to getting it a muzzle, anyway.
"'Kay, fine, okay, I do love seeing him die, and it would be pretty funny to watch him pull his whole stupid sacrifical martyr shtick for me," Joel had to admit. Begrudingly. "And it's not like 'm opposed to having a spare meatshield around... 'specially with the targets on our backs 'n all — well, target on my back, target's on your hip, y'know, with your whole... you get it — I'm funny. 'Hem, but, how'd'ya know he won't just go runnin' on back to Pearl or Cleo or whoever when they blow the bloody whistle? You were right when you said he's damn bloody loyal, so why'd he be loyal to us?"
"—Yeahhhh, hi, so, on that point," Scott managed to wrangle his way outta Gem's fingers, somehow. "I'm happy to ally with you 'lot, really, but, also, I thought being treated like an actual person was pretty implied in the conditions. I'd prefer not to be treated like a dog, if at all possible, actually, thanksss! Nothing against them, just that Pearl's gotten me pretty sick of them recently, to be fair."
Pft, c'mon, no, Scott, it's a joke!" Gem insisted. "It's a joke, it's just a bit — we're not actually gonna treat you like a dog, that'd be crazy! You were Jimmy's 'husband' in Third Life, but you weren't actually married, right? It's like that! Just a 'lil roleplay! You'll be the Meowth to our Team Rocket, Scooby to our Mystery Gang... that kinda thing! And," For a 'sec, there, Joel forgot Gem 'n Pearl weren't actually related by blood; that's how wolfish her grin looked as she added, "I meann, it is kinda fitting, right? You are kinda like our pet — you've got the tragic stray backstory and everything! Hurt by your owners, left out in the pouring trivia-bot rain... plus, it's the only way Joel'll agree!"
Actually, it wasn't. Joel didn't really care for the whole pet bit, to be frank, other then it was pretty blummin' funny to imagine. But he didn't bother to correct her, 'cause she seemed weirdly excited to vicariously live out her childhood dreams of owning a dog through this adult man, and who was he to stop her? Hell, he was roleplayin' as a Dom Toretto self-insert. He wasn't allowed to judge. Live your life a quarter mile at a time. For those ten seconds or less, I am cringe, and I am free, or however the blummin' quote went. Joel'd gotten distracted thinking about Dom Toretto (completely understandably, as only a heartless moron who hated family and also themself wouldn't get lost in a reverie when thinking of Toretto's ravishing, luscious lack of locks), but when he bothered to switch the frequency back 'n tune into whatever they were blummin' blabbin' ons about, Gem's hand was on Scott's head. She was patting him. Not the way she'd pat his head, usually accompanied by a dutch rub or a monkey scrub, but more the sorta condescending the way you might pet a rabies-recovering shelter animal, or a particularly stupid child after they tried to butterfly kiss a wall socket. No, nah, wait a 'sec, she wasn't patting him at all, was she? No, good grief, she was blummin' petting the guy.
"People love their pets, y'know?" Gem's was saying, voice thick 'wif Canadian syrup, "Usually, a lottt more than they love people, actually! Likeee... ooh, example! Take Pearl. Her and... Hilly? The 'illy dog! That was moon's chosen soulmate, right? And, I mean, well... Pearl was certainly a lot more loyal to her than Cleo ended up being to you, huh?"
Gem’s hands carded through his greasy, ugly locks ‘fore they found the cornflower entwined his hair, plucking it from his scalp like a weed. Scott stilled, muscles goin’ all stiff like they used to when Pearl’d dump ‘em both in those ice baths, but he didn’t stop her. Cat got his tongue, aye? Maybe they should he callin’ him kitten insteaNope! Yeah, mm, yep, he regretted thinking that one the second it left his brain. He'd sound like a bloody blummin' Discord moderator.
Gem twirled flower’s stem between two fingers, hummin’ as she regarded it all contemplative ‘n the like before she raised her gaze to the guy again, continuing with a soft sigh, “People’ve hurt you, Scott. Betrayed you. I get it. Me too. But, hey, it’s okay! You don’t have to worry about that anymore!” Idly, she fiddled ‘wif one of them petals, easily plucking it off the receptacle and lettin’ it twirl to the dirt unceremoniously. Loves me, “People may be cruel enough to hurt a person, but who would be mean enough to hurt a cute, innocent doggy?” Another petal fell. Not, “No one! Especially not a good doggy! A good, loyal puppy, who can hunt and fetch and kill and do all that good stuff for us!” Loves me, “You’re a good dog, Scott. The goodest boy. Best boy! And I’m not mean. Or stupid. Why would I throw away a perfectly good, super helpful doggo, silly?"
Not, supplied the final petal as Gem lost interest ‘n let the naked flower slip between her fingers as she offered ‘im an outstretched hand. But, since Scott was a stupid idiot who couldn’t count, he stepped forward anyway, crushing the discarded stem ‘neath his heel, wrappin’ his hand ‘round her fingers as he said, ”fine,” with a sigh in perhaps the most pathetic voice humanly conceivable, ”woof.”