“Whoa!” Markiplier caught up to the box, “What is that place?”
“That’s our palace!” Tiny Box Tim smiled, “My home!”
“Your home?” Mark raised his eyebrows with confusion, “This is your home?”
“Yea,” the box sighed.
“When did you move out of a mansion into a castle?” Markiplier asked.
“Oh…well…we built this place for us to fit comfortably together,” Tiny Box Tim explained.
“Uhh…” Markiplier hesitated, “I’m still trying to figure out what you mean by all of this. This is a lot to take in!”
“Let me introduce you!” Tiny Box Tim continued bouncing, until they came to the grand doors of the palace.
“Who am I going to meet?” Mark asked, as the box knocked, “And why are you knocking if you live here?”
“Weeeell…” Tiny Box Tim hesitated, with embarrassment in his tone and his face.
“What do you want?” somebody called from above.
“Dexter!” Tiny Box Tim bounced backwards to call up to the person above.
“You! You go away!” Dexter shook a gloved fist at them.
Mark was taken aback. He was looking up at a boy who looked exactly like the cartoon character, Dexter. He was a stark replication of the boy, yet he had a blend to this almost life-like world.
“I’m in a dream,” Mark muttered.
“I’m here to make amends!” Tiny Box Tim’s voice started to rattle with a high pitched rasp as he tried to raise it.
“No! You go away! You and your stuuuupid face! I don’t want to see you here!” Dexter shook his fist at Tiny Box Tim.
“I brought Markiplier!” Tiny Box Tim protested.
“You did WHAT?!” Dexter looked at Mark for the first time and facepalmed, “You dumb, irritating piece of wood!”
“Heh, he said wood!” Mark snickered.
“You shut up!” Dexter pointed at Mark angrily.
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