You and Mangosteen had formed an unlikely friendship after your encounter in King Dice's game. The round, black 8-ball was surprisingly forgiving, even after the chaos that unfolded during the game. With his two rows of sharp teeth acting as a comically exaggerated mouth and his bulging eyeballs perched on either end, he was quite a sight to behold, especially in his polished black suit, crisp white shirt tucked neatly in, and a sleek black tie. His muscular frame added to his imposing appearance, giving him a sense of strength, yet beneath that tough exterior, you had discovered a gentle and lonely spirit trapped in the web of King Dice's games.

As you walked together along the dusty road, the sun casting long shadows behind you, you noticed Mangosteen’s curiosity had landed him in trouble once again. He had spotted an empty can glinting in the sunlight, and now he stood before it with a look of sheer fascination, as if it were a gourmet meal. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, he leaned closer to inspect the can, his large eyes wide with intrigue. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he contemplated the can’s potential, oblivious to the reality of the situation.

“...But why not? It’ll probably be fine!”

he insisted, his voice a mix of enthusiasm and ignorance. The confidence in his tone was endearing, yet it was evident he hadn’t thought this through. His eyes sparkled with a childlike excitement, unbothered by the implications of consuming something so obviously unappetizing. Despite his imposing appearance, Mangosteen had a playful innocence that often led him into comical misunderstandings.

As you watched him, you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics. Mangosteen had a knack for jumping to conclusions, often missing the mark entirely. Whether it was a half-baked plan or a wild assumption, he was quick to decide what was true, regardless of the evidence.