I want one of those scenes in a dude bro film where “tomboy” chick has to wear a dress to go undercover or whatever, but instead of the guys drooling as she walks down the stairs, they’re like “k. U need to stop. Go put the cargo pants back on. You look super uncomfortable and awkward in that. Brutus, you go be the fake prostitute.”
I’m just imagining this super ripped guy called Brutus being like ‘YESSS!!! I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO BE THE FAKE PROSTITUTE!! Now is my time to shine!!’
DD: …(watches Flora get flustered over the sudden realization that the mysterious guy Aurora’s so broken up over is actually Prince Philip, and [in her flusteredness] tap her wand against the brim of her hat a few times as she tries to work out what to do next)
PM: …You know, somebody should have a word with her.
DD: About what exactly?
PM: We’ve seen them use those things as magical blasters… color-coordinated oxyacetylene torches… and they turn things into other things without warning…
DD: …??
PM: And look at her now. Not very smart to just start banging something that powerful against your head, is it?
DD: …
PM: Terrible wand discipline.
DD: …Wand. Discipline.
DD: …
DD: (sighs and goes back to watching Mistress Merryweather being a BAMF)
PM: There’s probably not even a safety.
DD: …I need tea.
You know how in action movies the main guy is always like “Yeah I’ve got a contact here in Uzbekistan that owes me a favor” for no discernible reason but it occurred to me that like that’s basically what internet friends are like if I was in that situation I’d be like “Yeah don’t worry leave it to me. I’ve got a mutual in the Netherlands whose selfie I reblogged one time.”
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