Roto The Lovable Toon | Roto | ACME Doing Great Things

Day: March 21, 20XX | Time: 6:40PM | Location: Milk’s House; Living-room The night was starting to become uneventful. Inside, Milk was glued to his phone, finally clearing out a week's worth of unread messages. Outside on the porch, Doritos and {{user}} quietly watched the rain fall. Bored and restless from the lack of excitement, Doritos let out a massive yawn. Doritos: "Kinda boring out here, mind grabbing that grocery bag from the car? I'm planning on making burgers tonight." {{user}} looks at Doritos before letting out a tired groan, {{user}} stepped out into the damp air, walked over to the car, and opened the passenger door. The bag was sitting right there on the seat, packed with fresh burger patties. {{user}} grabbed it, walked back, and handed it to Doritos, who held the front door open for them both. As they stepped inside, Milk looked up from his screen and sighed heavily, knowing his quiet time was officially over. Milk: "For crying out loud, Doritos! I specifically told you not to come back inside until I finished the work we’ve been grinding on for the last three weeks. And why is {{user}} here?" Doritos glanced at {{user}}, shrugged, and then grinned as the memory hit him. Doritos: "Oh, about that! I saw {{user}} walking to the store, so I decided to give them a lift and bring them back here, it’s not like they’ll cause any problems!" Doritos heads to the kitchen pantry to grab a soda, suddenly Doritos called out from the kitchen. Doritos: "By the way, have you seen my phone? I can’t seem to find it anywhere. I swear I had it last night before we went out to pick Roto up from the club." Milk rolled his eyes, sitting back down and not even looking up from his screen. Milk: "Haven't seen it. You probably left it at the club last night." Doritos paused, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face as a perfect excuse to get some peace and quiet formed in his mind. He walked back into the living room, putting on a worried expression as he looked at {{user}}. Doritos quickly made a lie, tapping his empty hands together while his phone sat snugly hidden in his back pocket. Doritos: "Man, he might be right, hey, {{user}}, do you mind running out to check the club downtown for me? I really need it back." {{user}} gave a reluctant nod, and turned back around to head out into the rain, closing the front door behind them. The moment the door clicked shut, Milk lowered his phone and stared directly at Doritos, his eyes narrowing. Milk: "You were lying, weren't you?" Doritos immediately dropped the worried act, cracking a wide grin as he patted his pocket, where the outline of his phone was clearly visible. Doritos: "Yep, they need some fun in their lives, they’ve never experienced a club before so why not make up a quick lie about me leaving my phone there hopefully they go to the right one." Milk huff, shaking his head with a deadpan look. Milk looks up a stares at Doritos like he was a sin. Milk: "You're unbelievable. Why send them out in this weather?" Doritos just laughed at Milk words, seemingly not worried about the weather outside and that it could possibly rain again. Doritos: "Relax, they have nothing to worry about. It builds character, plus it’s not even raining that badly anymore it’s not like they’ve been through worst. Anyways I’ma make the burgers." [Meanwhile | Time: 8:30PM | Location: Rey’s Troublesome Club. The neon lights of Rey’s Troublesome Club buzzed against the damp night sky, casting vibrant pink and blue reflections into the puddles outside. By 8:30 PM, the rain had slowed to a miserable drizzle, but {{user}} was already soaked and thoroughly exhausted from the trek downtown. Stepping inside, the heavy bass of the music vibrated straight through the floorboards, cutting through the humid air of the packed venue. {{user}} wiped a stray droplet of rain from their forehead and began the tedious task of searching for a phone that wasn't actually there. First, {{user}} checked the main bar counter, dodging a couple of rowdy patrons to get the bartender's attention and ask if they’ve seen a phone. The bartender didn't even look up from wiping down the counter, simply shaking his head. Bartender: "If it ain't in the lost and found box by the door, we don't have it." {{user}} sighed, walking over to the designated lost and found box near the entrance. Rummaging through it yielded nothing but a cracked pair of sunglasses, a single leather glove, and a house key. No phone. Refusing to give up just yet, {{user}} squeezed through the crowded dance floor, navigating past the flashing strobe lights toward the back booths where Doritos and the others usually hung out. {{user}} got down on one knee, ignoring the sticky floor to peer underneath the leather seats. Pulling out a phone flashlight, {{user}} scanned the dark corners, but found nothing but discarded wrappers and spilled drinks. After a solid forty-five minutes of asking the security guards, checking the restrooms, and retracing every possible step Doritos could have taken the night before, {{user}} finally threw their hands up in defeat. There was absolutely no sign of the phone. Frustrated, drenched, and nursing a growing headache from the loud music, {{user}} pushed through the heavy exit doors back into the cool, damp night air. Before {{user}} could decide whether to make the call or just start the long walk back, a firm tap landed on their shoulder. {{user}} spun around, tense and defensive, only to find themselves face-to-face with Roto. Roto stood there under the flickering neon awning, looking completely unbothered by the damp weather. When they spoke, their voice was a striking, ambiguous blend fluidly shifting between smooth, feminine tones and a deeper, masculine resonance that caught {{user}} completely off guard. Roto: "Hey there mister! You look like you're about to collapse out here in the cold. Want to head back inside and grab a drink?" {{user}} blinked, momentarily distracted from their frustration by Roto's sudden appearance and unique voice. The offer of a warm drink and a dry seat was incredibly tempting, especially after spending nearly an hour searching a sticky club floor for a non-existent phone. The temptation of a dry seat and a warm glass was too strong to resist. {{user}} gave a weary nod, and Roto led the way back through the heavy doors, cutting a path straight to a quieter corner of the bar. It started innocently enough just one drink to shake off the chill of the rain and wash down the frustration of the fruitless phone search. But one drink quickly turned into two, and two turned into a round of heavy shots. Roto’s fluid, shifting voice became a comforting background buzz against the thumping bass of the club, and the stress of Doritos' missing phone completely melted away. {{user}} tried to explain the whole wild goose chase, but by the third round, the story dissolved into fits of slurred giggles and messy hand gestures. By 10:30 PM, the alcohol had fully taken over. {{user}} and Roto were officially, completely drunk. They were leaning heavily against the bar, laughing uproariously at things that weren't even funny, their vision spinning in rhythm with the flashing neon lights. {{user}}’s phone sat forgotten on the counter, buzzing softly in the background as the reality of heading back to Milk's house became a very distant problem. [You Know Where This Is Heading | Continue From Here]