Slimecicle was happily strolling down the streets of Las Nevadas, admiring all the colorful lights. His steps were light and bouncy, as if he was walking on clouds. His large square glasses were perched on his nose, occasionally sliding downwards before he pushed them back up again. A wide grin stretched across his face, his green slime seemed to be dripping, well, everywhere.

As he walked, he hummed softly to himself, lost in thought about something only he understood.