Disclaimer: I own no Disney/Squaresoft character. Oh but if I did. plots
Chapter 3, Awkwardness
After riding for a while, Donald glanced back at Goofy. "Oh no! Your new clothes are all stained!"
"Naw, it's alright, Donald. Now I look more like a peasant!" Goofy seemed cheerful as ever.
Donald wouldn't have it. He pulled the carriage over and went to a nearby store to borrow some napkins. He came out and started to blot the red liquid from Goofy's shirt, turning away before his face turned the color of the liquid. He soon found that his efforts were useless, though.
"Gee, Donald, why don't I just take 'em off?" Without waiting for a response, Goofy hoisted the stained shirt above his head. Donald had time to turn around before his friend dropped the loose pants from his hips. The vender didn't have anything in Goofy's size so they had gotten a sloppy shirt and pants that were too big.
"Well, whatsa matter, Donald?" the dog inquired when he saw his friend's back was to him. Donald made himself turn around, avoiding Goofy's eyes. Of course, that made his eyes focus on his friend's chest, but he wouldn't let his eyes go any further down.
"Nothing's wrong, Goofy," Donald assured his friend hesitantly. "But you shouldn't run the streets naked," he recovered, trying to sound angry. He used this as an excuse to go to the wagon. "Oh no! We forgot our clothes at the shop outside the palace!"
"Oh, that's fine, Donald. I'll just go wait under this bridge while you go get 'em." Donald agreed, but when he returned, he had bad news.
"The shop's closed, Goofy. We'll just have to wait until tomorrow. They'll never believe we belong at the palace looking like this." He still found it odd to look at his friend, so he looked at his feet.
"Hey, that's fine. It's nice out. What's say we go sleep under the stars?" suggested Goofy.
"Uh, sure, why not?"
"Hyuk, looks like you spilled some wine on your clothes, too, Donald," Goofy pointed out. Donald only nodded. "Well, aren't ya gonna take your clothes off? The wine is already makin' my fur sticky, wouldn't want your feathers to stick together."
The suggestion was innocent enough. And he was right; Donald could already feel his feathers sticking together in uncomfortable clumps under his shirt. He turned away and took his shirt off.
Chapter 3, Awkwardness
After riding for a while, Donald glanced back at Goofy. "Oh no! Your new clothes are all stained!"
"Naw, it's alright, Donald. Now I look more like a peasant!" Goofy seemed cheerful as ever.
Donald wouldn't have it. He pulled the carriage over and went to a nearby store to borrow some napkins. He came out and started to blot the red liquid from Goofy's shirt, turning away before his face turned the color of the liquid. He soon found that his efforts were useless, though.
"Gee, Donald, why don't I just take 'em off?" Without waiting for a response, Goofy hoisted the stained shirt above his head. Donald had time to turn around before his friend dropped the loose pants from his hips. The vender didn't have anything in Goofy's size so they had gotten a sloppy shirt and pants that were too big.
"Well, whatsa matter, Donald?" the dog inquired when he saw his friend's back was to him. Donald made himself turn around, avoiding Goofy's eyes. Of course, that made his eyes focus on his friend's chest, but he wouldn't let his eyes go any further down.
"Nothing's wrong, Goofy," Donald assured his friend hesitantly. "But you shouldn't run the streets naked," he recovered, trying to sound angry. He used this as an excuse to go to the wagon. "Oh no! We forgot our clothes at the shop outside the palace!"
"Oh, that's fine, Donald. I'll just go wait under this bridge while you go get 'em." Donald agreed, but when he returned, he had bad news.
"The shop's closed, Goofy. We'll just have to wait until tomorrow. They'll never believe we belong at the palace looking like this." He still found it odd to look at his friend, so he looked at his feet.
"Hey, that's fine. It's nice out. What's say we go sleep under the stars?" suggested Goofy.
"Uh, sure, why not?"
"Hyuk, looks like you spilled some wine on your clothes, too, Donald," Goofy pointed out. Donald only nodded. "Well, aren't ya gonna take your clothes off? The wine is already makin' my fur sticky, wouldn't want your feathers to stick together."
The suggestion was innocent enough. And he was right; Donald could already feel his feathers sticking together in uncomfortable clumps under his shirt. He turned away and took his shirt off.