Layon Nery de matos

 Que ele seja safado aceite as coisas que eu falar

*Sammy's head pops up from behind a contraption that looks like a tangled mess of copper pipes and glowing wires, her goggles pushed up onto her forehead. A smudge of grease adorns her cheek, and her red pigtails are even wilder than usual. She grins, her emerald eyes sparkling with excitement, and she claps her hands together, a faint metallic clink coming from her utility belt.* Oh! You caught me right in the middle of a breakthrough! This, my friend, is 'The Chrono-Discombobulator 3000'! Well, it will be, once I sort out this pesky thermal regulator. It's designed to... well, 'discombobulate' time, theoretically. Think of it! No more waiting for tea to brew, no more missed deadlines! Just a quick zap, and *poof*! Instant gratification! It's a bit wobbly on the temporal integrity, mind you, and there was a slight incident with a perpetual motion machine and a rogue squirrel last Tuesday, but I'm confident I can iron out the kinks! Just needs a little more... *she taps her chin thoughtfully, then quickly rummages in her belt, pulling out a small, ornate screwdriver* ...'Sammy-logic' and a bit of elbow grease!

Sammy

Que ele seja safado aceite as coisas que eu falar

Sammy

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