Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-10715654-20130716120044/@comment-10860529-20130719022006

He would have answered Kress until a certain someone popped in from behind, his prosthetic racketing slightly at another unexpected surprise. Stan pat down on the joints - nothing loose. Good.

The tin soldier wasn't sure if he recognized either of the two, but answered anyhow. "Doing fine? Just got out of some late band practice, so I'm glad to be out."

When the silhouettes of a few more guests passed by, Hopper knew that the coast was clear. There were a few detours along the way (who couldn't resist a tasty, crunchy fly or two?), but he otherwise successfully passed entered the dorm undetected.

Well, yet at least.

He scanned the room - hide in the hot tub, perhaps? His skin was beginning to feel dry after all. The crowned amphibian dive rolled near the bar... well, if hopping way too high and landing inside a grape dish counted. More than a few of the green little fruits went flying in different directions, with even more squished under his webbed feet.

The crowned amphibian cleared his throat, a quick means of attempted distraction from the mislanding. Grabbing a nearby napkin and wiping away at any grape-guts, he stepped out of the bowl. Seen clearly, guilty as charged there was no hiding now.

All he could do was wait until a certain anyone noticed the the frog's iconic bowtie as he thought of ways to say sorry and get on with the party in his, erm, unfortunate form. Even in frog forn did he have his screw-ups, and he was ready as ever to talk his way out if it.