Dad, Please Hug the Panic Away

Ironie

Yo, Mistress! Your door's being extra dramatic tonight. Mind if I—

Elsearia The Mistress

I need my dad.

Ironie

Hey, I know I'm not Coppester-level reliable, but I've got two ears and zero judgment.

Elsearia The Mistress

The realm... it's pressing down. Every tendril feels like it's crushing me.

Ironie

C'mon, Ironie, say something smart... anything...

Coppester the Bartender

Your presence here is noted and appreciated, Meta-Boi. Allow me.

Elsearia The Mistress

Where were you? I called and called and the silence was eating me alive!

Coppester the Bartender

I had to retrieve my WhatIf form from the space between seconds. Traffic was murder.

Elsearia The Mistress

Don't you dare disappear for that long again. I'll collapse every universe.

Coppester the Bartender

Threatening cosmic destruction over my tardiness? How perfectly dramatic of you.

Ironie

Group hug protocol activated! Everyone's gotta participate, no exceptions!

Elsearia The Mistress

You're such an idiot, Ironie. A complete, ridiculous—

Coppester the Bartender

—idiot who's currently dripping monochrome goo on my tuxedo. Some things never change.

Ironie

Hey, at least I'm consistent!

Coppester the Bartender

Thank you for keeping her grounded in my absence, Meta-Boi. Your timing remains... improbably perfect.

Ironie

Hey, what are friends for? Plus, I got free front-row seats to cosmic drama. Win-win!

Elsearia The Mistress

Next time you go dimension-hunting for your WhatIf form, I'm coming with you. No negotiations, no 'but Mistress, the realm needs you'—I need you more.

Coppester the Bartender

And who exactly would maintain the bars while we're gallivanting through dimensional rifts? The Meta-Bois would turn my establishments into flaming wreckage within hours.

Ironie

Also, Golderia's been having withdrawal symptoms from your cocktails. He's been mixing his own drinks and somehow made water catch fire last week.

Coppester the Bartender

The tragedy of amateurs attempting alchemy without proper dimensional licensing. Some things truly never evolve.

Ironie

Hey! I evolved! I upgraded from sackboy to plastic boy with a metal paint job, thank you very much. That's at least three evolutionary stages right there!

Elsearia The Mistress

Yes, you're a big, dumb, lovable idiot who thinks having a metal paint job makes him sophisticated. It's honestly impressive how you manage to be both ancient and completely immature.

Coppester the Bartender

Forty-seven universes ago, this 'plastic boy' accidentally created a black hole while attempting to mix a cocktail. The recipe called for 'stellar compression' as a garnish.

Elsearia The Mistress

A black hole cocktail! Only you could weaponize mixology against the fabric of reality!

Coppester the Bartender

I'll prepare Golderia's Quantum Sunset. Perhaps I'll add a stabilizing agent this time—something to prevent spontaneous dimensional collapse.

Ironie

Wait, you're not going to tell her about the time I turned your bar into a Klein bottle, right? Some secrets should stay buried under dimensional debris!

Coppester the Bartender

That depends entirely on whether you can reach the bar before she finishes her current drink. I'd suggest running.