Pomp and Circumstance

This is the point at which Shaozu would normally slug his boulder of a friend right in the frighteningly perfect cheekbones. He hates talking smack over the phone for this very reason. In fact, he’s considering just hanging up the damn thing and excluding this douchebender from the soon to happen festivities of turning 22.

"A guy can only dream." Ming responds in a drawl, the side of his mouth twitching upwards into the slightest hint of a teasing grin. His eyes glimpse over to the shiny, silver metal of his satomobile keys hanging up on the hook expertly attached to the wall. 

"Y’know, I didn’t call you up just to hear you impersonate a shit stain," he hisses through the line, dropping his head into his palm. Rather than forming a pout that’d hardly be playful, he resorts to pursing his lips. Fucking typical.

"Oh my....I can practically feel the claws coming out through the phone line. You should put those away...wouldn't want you to hurt yourself on your special day now would we? Didn't your mother ever teach you not to run with scissors?" Ming represses a jeering chortle, smiling fondly as he listens to the exasperation attached to Shaozu's tone.