Not exactly, he just wishes he wouldn’t just spread it on his couch…
If they’re gonna do it when he’s like this, beerus might as well have visited him instead…
Terry's manspreading on your couch. You can smell his unwashed junk from where you're standing across the room. You can *see* clouds of musk rising off his bulge like steam.
Terry huffed. Thank goodness.
The two quickly made it to Terry's own personal section of the sewers, a closed off section that nobody ever disturbed. He climbs up onto a ratty (haha) mattress, raising his tail and beckoning Beerus over.