Otto Cartwright

“Bro!“

“Maybe all I am is an Alexa with a physical form.”

“We’re holding up a conversation aren’t we?“

“Robots can hold conversations.”

“To early November chills, cheers.“

“Robots can be hacked.“ He muttered mostly to himself. 

“You going to try and hack me?”

“Do you have any other emotions beside the ones you put up for us?“

“Nope, I’m a robot.”

“There’s no other way to simplify Otto.“

“Why were you single?“

“There was a solid few months where Zelda tried out Tater-Ot to piss me off. Wasn’t a huge fan.”

“Sound like a plan I could get down with, babe.“ She smiled, taking his hand and sliding out of the table.

“Candy corn and peanut mix?“

“Babe?” Otto raised his brows, while wrapping an arm around her waist. “I like it.”

‘‘I thought you were the one to judge others.’‘

“Thanks! I had it shipped in from Amazon with Margots’ help.“

“Amazon, very risky.” He teased, offering his hand out to her. “Do you dance?”

‘‘Atleast it looks like something.’‘ She chuckled.

“I’ve seen you’re leg and tree before,“ Skylar laughed. “Mines as been butchered beyond recognition. It’s starting to look like a big wide hole every time I try to fix it up.“

“It’s okay. Be a critic.“ 

Otto laughed and shook his head. “Then it sounds like we should just give up now, and let the pro’s handle it.” He offered a hand out to her while sliding out from the table.

“Really? You have to introduce me to that third eye of yours someday.“

He laughed and rolled up his pant leg, showing his scars. “These match. Then I was told by my critic,” Otto nodded over to Margot who was painting her pumpkin. “That I needed to do a real carving.”