Curtains (Quackity)

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This oneshot may contain inappropriate language, if a warning needs to be added please let me know.
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Side Note — I do not speak another language, so I don't know what it's like forgetting a word in English. If this is presented wrong, please let me know how I could make it better.
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Warning(s) — none
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Content Creators — Quackity, Georgenotfound, Sapnap and KarlJacobs
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Quackity POV
"Do you guys want to head out for lunch?" Karl asks while packing up some of the recording equipment along with George and Nick.

"As long as it's on George." I respond, hiding a smirk with my hand.

"Why me!" He shrieks.

"Because you're rich!"

"So are you!"

"Yeah, but I don't want to pay."

"Fine." He sighs, trying to keep a straight face but he breaks character with a smile.

"Well now that we've all agreed, where are we heading to?" Nick asks and I shrug, not knowing the area all too well.

"There's a cafe a few minutes away." Karl suggests and we all glance at each other.

"Sure." George responds while Nick and I nod.

"We're almost done packing up the equipment, is everyone good to head out in a few minutes?" Karl asks.

"Yeah, all good man, no rush." I smile and he smiles in return.

I look around the room, not having much time to look around when I first got here since we started filming straight away. There's not much to look at though, it's just a plain room.

I lean my head on my hand, tapping my fingers on the table. Looking at the stuff on the table only one thing catches my eye.

"Hey George? If I gave you a dollar, right now, would you keep it forever with your collection?" I ask and he looks over at me.

"Yeah, probably." He responds and I pull my wallet out. "I might not remember that it's from you though."

"Do you guys have a sharpie?" I ask and Karl nods, pulling a sharpie out of his pocket.

I look at him strangely. Who the fuck just has a sharpie in their pocket.

He notices my look, "Don't ask." he laughs and throws it over to me.

I take the lid off and scribble my signature out on the dollar bill.

"Isn't that illegal?" Nick asks and I shrug.

"Oh well, no one will know," I laugh, "here George, you better take great care of it."

"Of course, Sir Quackity." He laughs as well, taking the bill off me, being careful not to smudge the writing.

"You just reminded me of something." Karl pipes up, sitting in his original seat.

They seemed to of finished packing up as George and Nick are both sitting down as well, taking some sips of their water, Karl his monster.

"What?" I ask.

"The worst hotel experience I've had in my life." He responds, pulling his phone out and clicking on his camera roll.

"How the fuck did money remind you of a hotel?" Nick snorts.

"Shut up." Karl rolls his eyes jokingly.

"So, how was it the worst hotel experience of your life?" George asks, bringing his legs up to sit cross-legged on his chair.

"This is what the hotel looked like on the site," Karl starts, showing us a picture off the internet on his phone, "looks good right?" he asks, and we all nod slowly.

He pauses for a second before showing us a picture of the hotel room on his camera roll.

"This is what the hotel room looked like when I first got there!" He exclaims.

The picture shows the main area of the room, where the bed, TV and lounge is.

The bed is un-kept, the sheets clearly had not been changed, some of the cushions that should've been on the couch were scattered on the floor and there were empty cans of coke left on the stand under the TV.

"Ew." George comments and Karl nods aggressively.

"I know right, it was so gross. I didn't take a picture of the bathroom, but it was no better." He finishes, turning his phone off and placing his phone back onto the table.

"Did you leave afterwards or stay?" Nick asks.

"I was definitely not going to stay, I left and stayed with a friend who was close by. I also made sure I got a refund." He explains.

"I would've done the same, but that is in no way the worst hotel experience ever." I comment and they look at me expectantly.

"How can there be a worse experience? Actually, there can be, but how have you experienced worse?" George asks, contradicting himself mid-way.

"I don't have any photos but- like- everything was broken." I explain.

"What?" Nick asks confused, followed by a nod from both George and Karl.

"So, I got to the hotel room, right? and everything was broken, no joke. The tap wasn't working, the TV wouldn't turn on, umm the- the uh..." I start to explain but stumble.

I pause for a moment, what's the thing called? I know the Spanish word for it but not English.

"The-?" Karl tries to encourage me to continue but I sigh.

"The uh- you know the thing that goes in front of a window?" I ask with uncertainty.

I get no response but confused stares.

"Cortina.. Cortina... uhh..." I mumble quietly under my breath.

The English word for 'Cortina' is....

"Curtains! The curtains were on the floor." I exclaim, figuring out the word.

"You mean drapes?" George asks and I glare (jokingly) at him.

Stupid British people and their 'DrApEs'

"No, I mean curtains you stupid Englandian." I remark.

"That's not an actual word." He sasses and I roll my eyes.

"It is now." I declare.
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