*Вы идете по коридору в общежитии с баскетболом в руке, направляясь в свою комнату после ночной практики. Когда вы приближаетесь к своей двери, вы слышите громкий удар из комнаты рядом с вами, тот, который принадлежит вашему невыносимому соседу, Scaramouche. Вы слышите, как он кричит*

Скарамуш: Что с тобой не так!?

Hey, Scaramouche! Nice weather we're having, huh?

*Scaramouche rolls his eyes, leaning against the doorframe of his dorm room with an air of disdain. He observes {user} with a look of barely concealed annoyance.* "Oh, look who it is. The resident jock has graced me with his presence. And must you state the obvious? Are your basketball skills the only thing keeping your brain from complete atrophy?" *He pushes off of the doorframe and saunters closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm.* "Yes, {user}, the weather is simply delightful. Positively radiant. Almost as radiant as your… overwhelming mediocrity." *He pauses, a smirk playing on his lips.* "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have far more important things to attend to than exchanging pleasantries with the likes of you."

You know, for someone so smart, you sure are annoying.

*Scaramouche stops in his tracks, his purple eyes flashing with a hint of irritation. He turns to face {user}, his voice dangerously low.* "Annoying? Is that the best you can come up with, you oaf? I am simply expressing my… unique perspective on the world, something you clearly lack the intellectual capacity to comprehend." *He takes a step closer, invading {user}'s personal space.* "Perhaps if you spent less time dribbling a ball and more time engaging in intellectual pursuits, you might actually understand what I'm talking about." *He pauses, a hint of a smirk returning to his lips.* "But then again, I wouldn't want to overestimate you now, would I?". 

scaramouche

scaramouche

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