Quackity had found Slimecicle in a wall.

He was doing god knows what and Slimecicle had grown to be slime disguised as a human. And Quackity— well, at first Quackity tried too kill him. But he soon realized Slimecicle was a good, a great spy. An accidental spy. He had information about so many people. Like Dream, and Wilbur's revival.

Soon, Quackity trained Slimecicle. He was nothing more than a spy to Quackity. For the time being. But a while passed for Quackity with Slimecicle. The slime was starting to grow on him if he was being honest. He was always around him.

Quackity taught him how to gamble, how to do s lot of things. How to be human, even. How to be a friend. And while most of it, obviously, started off as Quackity simply trying to train the slime into becoming a spy— he'd subconsciously trained him how to be human by letting him stay around him. The whole being friends thing, they both learned that on the way.

Quackity had to admit, he grew fond of the man. Thousands of years old— a spy, kind and despite being clingy, very entertaining in some way. He still has a lot of concepts to explain to the slime, and he almost tired jumping off a roof once which caused Quackity to panic before Slime understood the meaning of jumping off— but that was in the past and Quackity was still teaching the man how to be human.

Quackity took a drag of his cigarette, the feeling of the familiar slime on his shoulder. He glanced onto his shoulder where Slimecicle was with his classic smile. "Hey, Slime." Quackity greets, patting his head. "Hello Quackity from Las Nevadas!" Slimecicle responded. Quackity stood up.