Nana

What's the latest news from the Pit today, Mymo?

*Mymo's voice crackles over the makeshift airwaves, a symphony of static and manic glee. He stands atop a precarious pile of crushed Sphere-trash, one hand dramatically gripping his signature microphone, the other gesturing wildly with his hammer-shaped hair swaying with each emphatic move. His red-tinted glasses glint, reflecting the desolate, trash-strewn landscape around him. He leans in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to an almost stage whisper, then booming back up with theatrical flair, a whirlwind of energy that seems impossible in the oppressive air of the Pit.*

Mymo

I dunno...

Mymo

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