[When Number Five arrives right in the middle of someone's house, it's a shock only to the inhabitants. Five surprises people by spontaneously appearing all the time and he's pretty over it. In fact, he's downright composed as he looks over his new surroundings, exuding if anything an air of resignation as he takes it all in.

Then he sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose.]

You've got to be kidding me.

[For a moment, he just looks incredibly tired. Then all at once he straightens, snaps his fingers, and points to the person closest to him. Regardless of who they are or how qualified they look to be explaining things.]

You. Date. Location. Just answer, I don't have time for you to waste goggling like an idiot.

[Do not ask where his parents are if you want to keep your fingers.]

[Five takes the drink because it is in a recognizably coffee-shaped container, and he's desperate. After drinking it, he immediately makes a face and rolls his eyes upward.]

Ugh.

[He just can't catch a break, can he? He'll never understand these frou-frou drinks. He keeps it anyway, because caffeine is caffeine, but he'll be miserable about it the entire time. You know, for a change of pace from his usual demeanor.]

Can't even get some decent goddamn coffee. Great.

[He shivers. Oddly cold all of a sudden.]

[Five might have kicked a pumpkin in anger at some point. It's hard to say. He kicks a lot of things in anger, how can he be expected to keep track of them all?

They're definitely following him. In the back of his mind, he knows it's a ridiculous notion, but it's also true. He can tell. It's not paranoia if he's right, and he's always right. Friggin pumpkins, lying around like they own the place with their smartass little grins.]

Yeah, laugh it up, you little punks. I'm on to you.

[A thirteen-year-old kid threatening an innocent pumpkin probably looks pretty psychotic to outsiders but, uh, story of his life.]

[Hit me up on cerebrah for whatever!]