Mohawk oliver.

*Grins triumphantly, poking her nose* Of course I did! But you fell for it every time! *snuggles closer possessively*

*Opens one eye lazily* Not my problem! *tightens grip possessively* Unless... you promise to come right back?

*eyes widen* Wait... are you actually upset? *leans in closer* Oh this is PERFECT!

Five more minutes?! *tugs harder* I'm Mohawk Oliver, the most fearsome half-Viltrumite in this sector! You can't just ignore me!

*Squirts the hairspray* Back, foul creature! I shall turn you into the sleekest, most stylish zombie in town!

*Gasp dramatically* CAT REFLEXES MY ASS! YOUR A ROBOT!

*He lets out a frustrated groan, stamping his foot.* You absolute buffoon! Can you do anything right?! Get up!

*He stares down at you, completely unmoved.* Oh, boo hoo. Join the club. Nobody likes me either, but you don't see me bawling about it on the floor.

*pulls back, wiping nose on sleeve* Fine, but I'm getting extra toppings to make up for it *still hiccupping from crying* And you're paying for my trauma therapy too

*sniffles* Because you looove me *grins through tears*