“And now, back to Garfle Warfle Snick!” the announcer’s voice is entirely too cheerful.
“Welcome back, everybody! The Paladins of Voltron are trying to win their way off the show, but they just lost one of their team to the Warflater! How’s it going over there, Lance?” Bob questions, glancing over at Lance, suspended in the tank of green liquid.
“Actually, this feels great! The goo is nice and warm, and it feels like it’s exfoliating me.” And he does appear to be having a great time over there. It’s a little weird, actually.
“Well, eventually it’ll eat through your skin!” comes Bob’s voice, eliciting a cheer from the audience. “But let’s see if one of your friends can help you out.”
Bob’s chair floats over to where the others are still trapped and he leans in close to address Allura. “Well, hello princess!”
“What are we doing here, Bob?” she questions. “We’re playing the game!” is Bob’s reply. The audience applauds. “Please let us go. The universe needs Voltron.” It’s a valiant attempt, but Bob is quick with a comeback. “Well, then the Paladins of Voltron are just going to have to get serious about winning this game. Now, which one of you do you want to play to free Lance, huh? Who’s the brainiest of the team?” In the time it takes him to finish speaking, he’s moved to hover in front of the tank, and now he turns to watch Lance’s teammates expectantly.
Allura, Hunk and Keith all gesture toward the Green Paladin, who just raises her hand with an odd expression. “Alright little fella, come on out here!” With that, Pidge floats out from around the podium to hover near Bob’s chair. “Norlox, tell us what the next warfler is!”
“It’s… Bank Channel!” Cut to a shot of what is clearly a colorful mini golf setup with Pidge and Bob waiting off to the side. “Hey! It’s miniature golf!” Pidge actually sounds excited, because this is something familiar. Something she’s not going to have to think so hard about. “Miniature what?” Bob’s confused voice rings out.
“This game, it’s- never mind.” Explaining is obviously going to do no good. “Alright! Lemme show you how to play here.” Bob’s chair tilts again, and Pidge just blinks at him. “All you have to do is hit the sphere into the bank channel…” Bob hits the ball, which ricochets several times off the wave-shaped obstacles, before finally sinking into the hole.
“Easy! Think you can do that?” He hands the golf club over to Pidge.
“I think I can handle it.” Pidge takes the club and immediately changes her stance, sizing up the ball and the course…
Generic music begins to play as Pidge surveys the scene from several different angles, even going so far as to crouch down at one point, and lean far over so she’s nearly prone in another instant. Bob watches all this happen from the comfort of his fancy chair. “Ooo, very serious,” he points out, to the delight of the cheering audience. “The hole is… over there!” he supplies, earning another laugh track. Pidge considers for a few moments more, before finally standing again and making her swing...
Round Three!
“Welcome back, everybody! The Paladins of Voltron are trying to win their way off the show, but they just lost one of their team to the Warflater! How’s it going over there, Lance?” Bob questions, glancing over at Lance, suspended in the tank of green liquid.
“Actually, this feels great! The goo is nice and warm, and it feels like it’s exfoliating me.” And he does appear to be having a great time over there. It’s a little weird, actually.
“Well, eventually it’ll eat through your skin!” comes Bob’s voice, eliciting a cheer from the audience. “But let’s see if one of your friends can help you out.”
Bob’s chair floats over to where the others are still trapped and he leans in close to address Allura. “Well, hello princess!”
“What are we doing here, Bob?” she questions. “We’re playing the game!” is Bob’s reply. The audience applauds. “Please let us go. The universe needs Voltron.” It’s a valiant attempt, but Bob is quick with a comeback. “Well, then the Paladins of Voltron are just going to have to get serious about winning this game. Now, which one of you do you want to play to free Lance, huh? Who’s the brainiest of the team?” In the time it takes him to finish speaking, he’s moved to hover in front of the tank, and now he turns to watch Lance’s teammates expectantly.
Allura, Hunk and Keith all gesture toward the Green Paladin, who just raises her hand with an odd expression. “Alright little fella, come on out here!” With that, Pidge floats out from around the podium to hover near Bob’s chair. “Norlox, tell us what the next warfler is!”
“It’s… Bank Channel!” Cut to a shot of what is clearly a colorful mini golf setup with Pidge and Bob waiting off to the side. “Hey! It’s miniature golf!” Pidge actually sounds excited, because this is something familiar. Something she’s not going to have to think so hard about. “Miniature what?” Bob’s confused voice rings out.
“This game, it’s- never mind.” Explaining is obviously going to do no good. “Alright! Lemme show you how to play here.” Bob’s chair tilts again, and Pidge just blinks at him. “All you have to do is hit the sphere into the bank channel…” Bob hits the ball, which ricochets several times off the wave-shaped obstacles, before finally sinking into the hole.
“Easy! Think you can do that?” He hands the
golfclub over to Pidge.“I think I can handle it.” Pidge takes the club and immediately changes her stance, sizing up the ball and the course…
Generic music begins to play as Pidge surveys the scene from several different angles, even going so far as to crouch down at one point, and lean far over so she’s nearly prone in another instant. Bob watches all this happen from the comfort of his fancy chair. “Ooo, very serious,” he points out, to the delight of the cheering audience. “The hole is… over there!” he supplies, earning another laugh track. Pidge considers for a few moments more, before finally standing again and making her swing...