Ink threw another ink filled tissue at the mountain that was now his trashcan. He sighs as it bounces off and lands on the floor with the other fifty tissues. Being sick sucked… The being of creativity and all he could do was create a giant tissue mess. He sighs and is about to push himself out of bed, when he hears someone come in.
“Hello? *sniff* Who is it?” He tried to speak up, but his voice failed him and came out as a croak.
“Wiggidy what up my sick brah!?” An unmistakable voice calls from the kitchen. Fresh comes wheeling in on his Heelies with a juice box in his hand.
“Oh. Hey Fresh. *sniff* What brings you here?” Ink rasps out.
“Wanted to see if you wanted to shred some tubular pipes with me!” He says after taking a long sip from the juice box. He finally notices Ink’s runny nose and the ink filled tissues everywhere. “Ohhhhhhhhh. You really are a sick brah!”
“Yeah… I’ll have to A-A-ACHOO