[ The room is pre-dawn-dark when the feed cuts in, but the communicator is obviously on the move. Toward the dim shape of a bed, it looks like. Cue a low, whispering voice, using a passable (but obviously faked) Australian accent— ]
Here we are, in the natural environment of the Terrius Wardicus...
[ A light flicks on somewhere. On the mattress, with his awkwardly long teen boy-limbs stretched out in all directions, is Terry -- apparently mimicking a starfish in his sleep, mouth slightly open (is that a bit of drool?), and face almost unrecognizably peaceful except for just a tiny hint of a frown. ]
Daylight hours find this one a right nasty beast. One of nature's fiercest! [ The “camera” creeps nearer, to the edge of the bed. ] His natural weapon's sarcasm, but he's safe enough to approach when he's asleep. We can even poke around in his den— [ the camera swings away, taking in a pretty typical teenage-boy-room ] —see if our big fella's got—
[ There's stirring on the bed and a muffled noise, groggy and not really conscious at all, which makes the camera swing back to the bed again — then, abruptly, Terry jerks awake with a confused little exclamation: ]
Wha... What the hell.
He's stirring! [ The view goes for a wide sweep around, backing up a few paces. ] Gotta watch out, make sure he doesn't get any limbs.
[ A pillow comes flying at the comm camera, which jerks and fumbles, going black. In the background: ]
Why can't you knock like a normal person?
Our Terrius Wardicus's awake, and he's in a mood. Gotta watch out when they get like this, they're just as likely to snap off a hand as—
[ A frustrated huff of breath, and someone jostles the camera before turning it off. ]