“ Oh yea’ , they ‘ re freakin ‘ radical , you know what ‘m sayin ‘ ? All intimidatin ‘ and junk , I ‘ ve got all sort’sa cool tings drawn on me ! “
He pulled his shirt back down . Practically vibrating with excitement .
“ eh — you should join me and the gang ! —
++
So nonchalant! Yancy nodded enthusiastically , planting his hands on his hips .
“ oh yeah? … Oh, yeah! Them snakes, im’s a big fan, see?”
He patted around on his body as if he was looking for his keys , then , with a a dramatic turn of his heel ,—
++
somehow.
“I just— did what came to mind.” A lil shrug. “Oh, the- the snakes? Thank you, I’m sure they like you as well.”
Snakes nodding their heads in confirmation.
“Ha, HA! YES!”
Definition of matching his energy. He flips out of their grasp and lands on his feet, before doing a dramatic bow.
“Youse’s good at dat, yessir! An’ I like your lizard-thangs!”
You ever notice how awkward it feels to dance without music?
He seems to do it like it’s his job. Which- it’s the closest he’s ever had to a real job, besides the odd-jobs around the prison hard, anyway.
And then we see why he needs the practice; he trips on his foot
++
"Oh, really? Well, whaddareya doin' here? In prison? Wit us?"
He gives him a solid up and down look, and then... a tilt of his head, like a confused puppy.
"Oh," His hand goes to shake the others, then flinches away, instead scratching the back of hsi neck, "You one'a dose rich boys, eh?"
A nervous smile stretches across his face, "uh, yanno, dis place aint too king to silver-spoon feeders like yourself. Ya seem nice an all, but..."