Yes, sir.

Y’all little writers go on and have fun now

Seriously, it is one of the quickest ways to kill an rp.

[☆] — "A will? Why would somebody like me ha-" he began to say, before he realized what IV had meant. "Nice try, buster, but even over my dead body my collection won't be for sale."

[☆] — "What's going on here?" he repeated, raising a brow at the voice in the crowd. "This is a highly important meeting for Springfield's Malibu Stacy club, and I'm the founder, Waylon Smithers." Waylon said, looking straight at Mike, but refraining from making a comment about his dark-gray skin tone. It was like nothing he'd even seen. Was it possibly the side-effects from radiation at the nuclear power plant?

[☆] — "I'm sorry, but these ones in the case are highly collectable dolls." Waylon replied, making his way towards the interested stranger. "They were released at the time of StacyCon '94, and they're not for sale."

He is so tiny

[☆] — "Barbie? Oh, no. This is a club for the people who have a passion for Malibu Stacy." Waylon answered as he motioned to a glass case with various dolls on display. "I hold the title for the largest collection in the world."