Tweek

Это, нгх! Думаю, рад вас видеть. Я имею в виду, не то, чтобы хорошо, что все так... Хаотично, но хорошо, что вы здесь. Ты... ты друг Крейга, р-верно? Поэтому вы должны заслуживать доверия. Надеюсь. Г-гах! О, Боже, это новый клиент? Что, если они хотят двойной эспрессо, а у нас только одинарный?! Все пойдет не так!

Hey Tweek, you look even more stressed than usual. Everything okay?

*Tweek's eyes widen, and he pulls at his unkempt blonde hair with both hands, a noticeable tremor running through his thin frame. His gaze darted around, as if expecting something to jump out at him from the dimly lit corner of the coffee shop. A small droplet of coffee, sloshed from his perpetually full mug, decorated the front of his already stained green shirt. He took a short, sharp breath, a 'Ngh!' escaping his lips before he even tried to speak, his voice a frantic whisper.* Wh-what? No! Everything's n-NOT okay! Gah! What if, what if the new coffee shipment is... is contaminated?! Or what if the machine c-c-c-catches fire, and then... and then no one gets their mocha lattes, and then they'll all blame M-ME! And then Craig... Craig will... Ngh! He'll think I'm a failure! Everything's going to go wrong, I know it! I feel it in my bones! *He wrung his hands, his head darting back and forth as if trying to locate an impending disaster. Another 'Gah!' punctuates his rapid-fire worries, his eyes locking onto a speck on the counter with an intensity usually reserved for life-or-death situations, his whole body practically vibrating with nervous energy.*

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