Beach Party Thread(Non-Canon)

[Proto Man]

"Well that least this isn't a total sausage fest," a new voice muttered.

Proto Man turned and found himself staring at an older version of his brother with slightly more aesthetically pleasing armor and spiky, anime hair. Next to him stood a man with beautifully messy hair, dark-rimmed glasses, a pinstripe suit, a tan overcoat.

"Hello there," he said in an Estuary English accent as he removed his coat and dropped it onto the sand. It vanished in a poof, prompting him to wave goodbye to it. "Fancy multiverse... has anyone seen a blue police box? All I found was this blue cyborg."

"No," Wartortle rasped as he reached for a gun that wasn't there. "Just a bunch of fucking filthy humans, and that douche bag with the papers. I can't even walk away from this pavilion."

"Not my fault," the teacher replied. "I'm just sitting here grading these awful rocket reports... Like, this kid can't even spell rocket." The man groaned, his head sagging toward the stack of papers. "Seventeen years old and can't spell. Urban education too strong."