“Anon, I’m sorry that your no nsfw plan failed so badly. Welcome to Pervtown, I’m Mayor Matsuno!”

Before Osomatsu realizes that he’s being supremely uncool, he lets out a whistle and a disbelieving mumble of ‘holy shit.’ “My anons know how to get right to my heart. Anon, I hate that I can’t be there. Believe me, it hurts me more than it hurts you.”

“All boobs. Big, small, whether you have them or nah. Basically have a good personality and a corporeal form and I will grab whatever chesticular bits you offer me with joy.” He claps his hands together. “I am not too terribly picky. Any chest is the best.”

Osomatsu puts up his arms in an X, along with an obnoxious buzzer noise. “Sorry, anonymous! After Kara pretty much offering to strip, they knew I’d offer too, and that my fans would have infinitely less patience, no offense.” He circles his hands around in a ‘this explains everything’ gesture that doesn’t help a damn thing. “So, basically, nothing below the belt comes off or gets displayed too prominently. They know we’re all awful here. Sorry!”

“That’s above the belt, let’s do this shit. You haven’t gone too pruny, have you?” He has no patience for teasing, it all comes off ungracefully, and his undershirt messes up his hair on its way over his head. “Looking good, right?” In the middle of a three way venn diagram between lithe, smooshy, and scrawny lies Osomatsu.

“Off anon! Daring as hell, I can dig it. If my contract wasn’t so strict, I’d already be there, pal. You go after what you want, and you have good taste! Kudos.”

“I can’t show you a thing, and I don’t wanna get booted from the campaign, so I’m just gonna keep it simple. I don’t stare at their stuff, I don’t have it memorized, but they’re close enough to make guessing who’s who tricky. It was hell for Choro, I tell you what.” He snorts, a laugh bubbling up from his chest.

“Remember what I said about the whole pants stay on thing? That counts. I know, I know,” he presses a hand to his face and gives a big fart noise and thumbs down to the rules. “I think it’s Goldilocks, personally.”

Osomatsu twiddles his fingers. “Yeah, remember all those times Totoko’s called us pathetic loser virgins? She’s not wrong. I guess, eventually, I’ll have to test drive both. I’ll let ya know!”

Osomatsu murmurs the instructions to himself, looking supremely puzzled. “Ok, fingers and tongue, like, uh.” He brings up both hands, making a diamond with his fingers, “Like the diamonds? In the thing with the rock people, am I pressing a button?” He boops his tongue out and back in like a lizard. “No, wait, or are you guys all, like, into freaky stuff. Not like kinky freaky, like scary freaky.” He mimes cutting his tongue off with scissors. “Eugh. Wait, or, I’m like a duck?” He clamps his fingers around his lips, sticking out his tongue from between them in a rather creepy display. “That’s gross. Wait!” He does as the anon presumably wanted, with the shamelessness and sloppiness befitting a very determined, incredibly hormonal guy. After a moment of smug, satisfied smirking, he decides to summon his inner Totty, eyes wide, posture delicate, the image of false innocence. “Was that what you wanted? I still think I have it wrong. Instructions unclear, dick caught in ceiling fan. Oh, shit, why didn’t I pick that as my one meme?!”