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zebraslovescupcakestoo · 3 years

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Does anyone remembered last year when they redesign Toucan Sam for the next younger audience? I almost never watch TV cause my family was almost on it everyday. My dad especially and I don’t want to take that from him. Please excuse me if I am more than a year late to know this.

But I learned yesterday from a Youtuber that there was this backlash on this at the time and.... I’m not a fan of backlashing but this was REALLY poorly redrawn. I can link his video here. This one was probably inspired by that cartoon show of TAWOG. I get the reference, but this was NOT it, personally.

Thankfully, the newer redesign is much more easy on the eyes. Bit more teenage, plastic look of a McDonald’s toy and added blue and green ring on his beak. Reminds me of the whole Sonic Live Action movie from the first trailer and they had to re-do it while post pone the film date. At least THIS a lot better.

I did have my favorite BBTIM OC based on this mascot if you knew my early posts days. If he saw this he’d sue and beat the crap out of Kellogg’s @&& if Felix didn’t stay by his side, helps calm him down and think of a better solution. (while he’s trying to swallow his Froot Loops cereal from what he saw. He can’t blame Sam for this. This was too funny.)

On the mascot version canon, Sam Toucan is more showing how he’s kind to others, sharing his signature cereal to everyone even to strangers and rivals/enemies after defeat or shake hands for peace.

MY version of BBTIM OC Sam Toucan however, is not as sweet as this one on first impression.

I’ve evolved/changed his characteristic and personality overtime, but basically he’s mostly neutral to anyone depending who he’s interacting with. If you’re a good person, he’ll be nice/polite. If you’re a bad guy or a piece of s!t, he’s not gonna sugar coat it depending on the situation. For example:

First time meeting Alex:

A: Why hello, I am Alex “is better than Felix” Cat. *Extend to shake hands*

S: Hi, I’m Sam “You’ve pissed me off, f#k you too”-can. *Flipped the bird*

*He can smell BS after a certain accident to detect liars/dishonesty.

His Character design is based from Phoenix Wright from the AA franchises, Elvis inspired hair and wacky colors that no one would dare to come close to him.

As for his personality, I based him originally on George Carlin, Rick Sanchez and a bit of Brad Stine. I could say that he’s got some trust issues from his first love and during WW2. He thought that he’d know better to make a third attempt to let anyone close to him until a faithful encounter when he moved to the same city as Felix and Bendy. After a few chit chat and encounters, he realized that Felix was somewhat of his old version of his younger self of why he became an attorney in the first place: to protect the innocents and vulnerable.

Thus they are now more like the alternate Boris and Bendy duo. Their relationship on job professions are Boss/Employee since Sam pays Felix for helping his cases and Felix, in return, helps Sam handling with his clients or court trials.

Outside of work, they seem like at times, Tintin and Captain Haddock from the comic series, Rick and Morty Sanchez in good and bad times, depends, or simply father/son like bros. (IKD OK?! Almost but nothing like Boris and Bendy level.)

Anyways, thank you for reading this, this was out of the ordinary but I hope you enjoy my little rant. Hope that the Kellogg’s learned not to mess too much with redesigns in the future.

Characters OG Sam Toucan belongs to Kellogg’s.

@bendybeforeinkmachine AU, Humanized! Felix belongs to @marini4

BBTIM AU OC Humanized Sam Toucan is mine.

#bendybeforeinkmachine #sam toucan #cereal drama #redesign #wtf #Felix The Cat #felix #humanize #human #OC #fanart #marini4

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porkchop-ao3 · 5 years

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I.C’s Suit Fitting

More OC fun! This fic features both Ice Cream Rick and Tailor Rick. No reader here, but she does come up in conversation ;3 Tailor is giving the lovely I.C a suit fitting! A nice little character study to help us get to know these guys even more.

So! SFW, just under 3k words, enjoy!

“This colour? Are you absolutely sure about that?”

It was going to be a long day, Tailor knew that much. What he did not know was why on earth Ice Cream Rick, of all people, had booked an appointment for a suit fitting with him. It wasn't as if he had the money or the taste to pull off one of his suits. Especially if the whole thing was going to be done in pastel yellow for Christ's sake.

“Yes. T-totally sure. She says she likes that colour on me.” I.C replied to the tailor's snarky question with an undeterred smile on his face.

“Well yes, I'm sure she does, but not in this volume.” Tailor scoffed, scowling down at his book of fabric samples. “An-and I don't even use this fabric for suits. It's far too thin, I use it for linings. A subtle hint of colour. Only an idiot would walk around wearing a suit in this colour.”

I.C cocked a brow, glancing down at the suit Tailor had decided on that day. Emerald green shot with magenta, the colour shifted in the light. He would question it, but he couldn't be bothered to listen to the hour long lecture that would no doubt follow.

“If it's too thin, source me a fabric that's suitable. But I'm having this colour. It matches a dress she has…” I.C insisted scratching at his goatee as he looked down at the fabric once again. He thought it would look pretty cool, paired with a powder blue shirt.

“Oh, bloody hell, you're going to be matching? Christ.” Tailor sighed, turning on his heel and pulling out a second book from his shelf, containing more fabric samples. “If you insist on going with yellow, may I suggest something to break up the colour? Stripes, perhaps. That might just work with the correct accessories. Very Dick Van Dyke.”

“Huh?”

“You've seen Mary Poppins, haven't you? The scene with the chalk pavement drawing? Oh, never mind. Just make sure you find yourself a nice pair of white brogues and a cane.” Tailor muttered somewhat sarcastically, slamming the heavy book down on the desk and flicking through it until he found what he was looking for. “This. With plain white trousers.” Tailor suggested.

This fabric was mostly white, but had yellow stripes of varying widths running along it. I.C pursed his lips as he looked at it.

“Alright. I will trust you on this. And what about the lining, you mentioned lining?” He nodded, looking back up at Tailor who gave a long suffering sigh and pointed towards the original choice.

“If you must have that particular fabric somewhere, then I suppose it would be fine to line it with that.” Tailor said, bringing a smile to I.C's face. “And what are you wearing it with? Would you like a shirt as well or are you just springing for the suit and trousers this time?”

“Just the suit and pants. I'm not- well, I have a shirt in mind.”

“Don't tell me it's a pink polka-dot eyesore, or-or something along those lines.” Tailor grumbled, jotting something down in a notebook – not dissimilar to the one I.C owned for his ideas, he thought – on a page with 'Mr. Whippy’ written across the top. I.C still didn't understand what that was about.

“No. It's a p-pale blue, plain one with white buttons.” He said defensively, though he wouldn't admit that he did in fact own a pink polka-dot shirt as well.

“Hm, not terrible.” Tailor nodded thoughtfully. “I'll allow it.” He added.

“Oh, thank goodness.” I.C rolled his eyes in mild annoyance.

“So what's the occasion for this? And you'd better not say a funeral because I'll throw you out of here.” Tailor asked, closing up the fabric books and carrying them back over to the shelf where they belonged. He slid them into their specific places carefully.

“No.” I.C frowned. “It's our anniversary. Six months.”

“You know, that's not really an anniversary that counts for anything, I'd at least wait a year before splashing out on a Sanchez suit. Not th-that I'm trying to talk myself out of a paying customer, but for the record, I don't do 'mates rates’. You'll be paying full price whether you're dating my assistant or not.” Tailor informed him dryly, and I.C tutted and rolled his eyes.

“I wasn't expecting that, w-we're hardly good friends anyway.”

“How you wound me.” Tailor whined dramatically shortly before dropping all emotion from his face. “Get up on there, would you? I-I-I'm ready to take your measurements.” He continued, pointing towards the low pedestal in the middle of the room.

The same pedestal that I.C's girlfriend to be had been creaming her knickers on during her own dress measuring earlier that year… Tailor had been tempted to mention it, but then again, he wasn't completely heartless.

Tailor brought a tape measure and his notebook over to I.C, who'd stepped up onto the pedestal and was standing rather awkwardly.

“You can relax, you know. I-if you're all stiff my measurements will be off.” Tailor said, slipping off his own suit jacket and hanging it off the back of a nearby chair.

“I'm-I'm perfectly relaxed, I've just never been fitted for anything before. I don't know how to stand.” I.C admitted a little sheepishly, watching Tailor come over to him uncoiling his rolled up tape measure.

“You don't say.” He mused, looking I.C up and down analytically, considering where to start. “Well, just stand naturally. Don't hold your breath, just be… hmm.” He suddenly narrowed his eyes.

“What?” I.C frowned.

“Those won't do. Take your trousers off, please.”

“What?” I.C questioned, his tone incredulous.

“Those trousers are too baggy, I won't be able to get an accurate inseam measurement, it'll be easier if you just remove them. Keep the shoes on, however.” He explained, looking up at I.C with his signature bored expression, holding out his hand. He was waiting.

I.C sighed and started to unbuckle his belt, fumbling as he did. If he was awkward before, he sure as hell was a lot worse now.

“If you're worried I'm going to laugh at how small it is, I assure you I'm a complete professional. I'll only tell my closest friends about it.” He added dryly, a smirk tugging the corner of his lip. I.C realised he'd never seen anything so close to a smile on his face before.

With a huff, he dropped his drawers – however awkward that might be with his shoes still on – and handed them to the other Rick, who walked across the room to hang them up neatly on a nearby clothes rack.

“That's better. Now, like I said, just relax and stand naturally. This should be quick and painless.” He said, returning to I.C and holding the tape measure between his two hands. “We'll do the chest measurement first. Again, don't hold your breath.”

Tailor stepped in front of the other Rick and briefly wrapped his arms around him, under his arms, and brought the tape measure around his torso. He took a few seconds to ensure it was level all the way around and adjusted it so that it was snug, but not too tight. Then he released him and turned to jot down the figure in his notebook, sitting on a portable table just behind him. He then walked around to I.C's back and stretched the tape out across the tops of his shoulders.

“So,” he started, simply to make conversation. “Where are you taking her for the anniversary?”

“Hm? Oh. I'm- well, I'm- I think…” I.C stammered, fidgeting a little. Tailor's eyes slid from the tape measure up to the back of his head curiously. “Honestly? I don't know.” He finally admitted with a disappointed sigh.

“You don't know?” Tailor repeated, moving to make a note of the next measurement before going over to his side, taking I.C's wrist in his hand and positioning his arm just right. He took the measurement from the top of his shoulder and down to where the jacket sleeve would fall.

“No. I-I-I'm actually kind of shitting myself at this point. I wanted to take her out somewhere real fancy, expensive, jus-just go all out, you know? But all the places I can think of are fully booked. Th-they have waiting lists!” I.C lamented.

“Oh, well that's no problem. The owner of Park Chinois is a client of mine. I could get you in. That's if it's in your budget, this is a very high end restaurant we're talking about.” Tailor told him, surprising even himself; he wasn't sure where the offer had come from.

By the look on his face when I.C slowly turned to stare at Tailor, neither did he. His eyes were comically large and his mouth was hanging wide open.

“You'll catch flies.” Tailor commented briefly.

“Are you fucking serious?” I.C exclaimed, his voice much higher in pitch than usual. Tailor chuckled to himself, but there was an edge of regret in its tone.

“Hmm. I could do it. I'd have to offer them a discount on their next purchase, but they're putty in my hands; they'll do it. That's if that's really what you want to do, has your girlfriend told you she'd like a slap up meal?” Tailor asked, noting down another measurement before pausing, crossing his arms and looking up at the other man.

“Well, no. I just thought that'd be the best thing- the most romantic thing-”

“Yes, taking out a second mortgage to pay for a meal and a suit. How very romantic.” Tailor rolled his eyes and immediately I.C was scowling at him.

“Listen, I don't know who you think you are – or who I am for that matter – but I can afford to splurge every once in a while. I might not drive a- a Bentley or whatever the fuck, but don't forget I own a business. A pretty successful business, actually.”

“Alright! Must've touched a nerve. I am sorry you feel that way about your money situation, I didn't realise you were so sensitive.”

“Oh, fuck off.” I.C grumbled, half tempted to storm out. But that'd only give him more ammunition.

“I suppose I can fuck off along with the offer of getting you that table for two?” Tailor's eyelids lowered, his face deadpan. I.C kept his mouth shut. They were quiet for a while, and finally Tailor returned to taking measurements.

“Do you think she'll like it?” I.C asked, his voice timid. “You spend a lot of time with her, maybe you know a different side of her. Help me out here.”

“Hmm, well, what do you usually do on your dates?” Tailor questioned.

“Well, a bunch of things. Lately she's been showing me around London. I suppose it's her way of returning the favour of what I do for her; I like to take her to different planets, and we'll just sit up on the hood of the truck and eat ice cream together, talking and enjoying the scenery. Then other times we'll go out to small towns or villages, find a l-little family run coffee shop or restaurant and eat there. We'll go on walks, sh-she likes nature reserves. Sometimes we'll just book out a hotel room somewhere and spend a weekend just- well, I live with Beth and the kids, she lives with her family, so it's a good chance to get some alone time.” I.C explained, staring off into space.

“First of all, gross. Second of all, all of that sounds pretty low-budget and quaint, I suppose. Does she honestly strike you as the type to want to go out to dinner somewhere like Park Chinois?” Tailor proposed, taking the outseam measurement of his leg. I.C was quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Tailor let him mull it over as he scribbled in his notebook.

“Hmm, maybe not. I don't know, I just want her t-to be happy, I want to let her know how much I appreciate her and- and I guess I don't know the right way of doing it.” He finally said, sighing heavily and chewing on his bottom lip.

“Perhaps, I don't know, speaking to her may help? Just a-”

“Watch where you're putting your hands!” I.C suddenly hissed, jolting away from Tailor who was kneeling on the edge of the pedestal. He stared up at the other Rick with a blank expression, completely unaffected by his outburst.

“Inseam. I'm measuring your bloody inseam, trust me, I don't want to touch your shrivelled up mole-rat, thank you very much. I'll leave that to my assistant.” Tailor quipped, trying again now that I.C was a little more prepared. “Anyway. I suggest you speak to her and ask her what she'd like to do. Then you can't go far wrong.”

“I wanted to surprise her.”

“You don't make things easy for yourself, do you? I'm going to measure your seat, which is basically your arse, so don't think I'm copping a feel, okay?” Tailor said absentmindedly, wrapping the tape measure around him. “In that case, I have no advice to give, you're on your own. However, the offer is there, if you'd like me to pull some strings.”

“Y-y-you'd seriously do that for me?” I.C questioned, looking at Tailor in a light he'd never seen him. He couldn't help but feel touched, underneath all of the surprise and disbelief.

Tailor looked up to meet his eyes and promptly scowled, huffing out a breath before spinning on his heel and scribbling in his notebook again. He was rough with his pen this time, clearly irritated.

“I'm not doing anything for you.” He muttered, much quieter than he'd normally speak. “Anyway, I'm done. You can get dressed now.”

I.C stared at him for a while, cogs turning in his head. His stomach churned with something deeply unpleasant and his heart rate picked up. He shakily stepped down from the pedestal and rushed over to where his pants were hanging up, suddenly feeling far too exposed in front of Tailor. He dressed quickly, chewing on his bottom lip until it was swollen and sore.

A number of unwelcome images were flitting through his mind; Tailor and his own girlfriend spending time together in this very room, alone. Long hours, late into the night. The few times they'd all been together he'd noticed the way Tailor looked at her, he'd thought nothing of it at first but he really looked at her; intense, holding her eye contact for far longer than necessary. And then there were the subtle touches, how he'd sometimes touch her hair to neaten out flyaways, or place a hand on the small of her back when they were talking. On a number of their dates, I.C had turned up to her house and he had been there, apparently helping her get ready. So he'd seen her undressed, hadn't he? Must've done, at the very least for her dress fitting with him all those months ago. She was beautiful, of course, any man would…

He let the thought fall flat and frowned to himself.

“Rick.” He started, his back to the other man. He heard him hum in acknowledgement. “Do you- uhh, well, are you-” He kept stalling on his words, he could not for the life of him get them out.

“Spit it out, I have another client arriving soon.”

“You're doing it for her, aren't you? You'll book us the table and give the owner a discount on your work for her sake.” I.C pointed out, turning around to look at him. Tailor raised his head to meet his gaze, eyes slightly widened.

“Who else? She's been a real help to me these past few-”

“Do you have feelings for her?” Came his follow up question, shutting Tailor up instantly.

The room was silent for a while, the two men simply staring each other in the eye.

“Yes. I'm in love with her, com-completely head over heels.” Tailor started, straightening up and rolling his eyes, totally breaking eye contact as he disinterestedly continued with what he was doing; rolling up his tape measure. “That's why I'm going through all this hassle; so she can go on a bloody date with you – Christ, what're you thinking? Get out of here. Morty will take your partial payment as you leave, I-I-I expect the rest when you come for your fitting once the suit is done. I'll make any necessary adjustments then.”

I.C was hit with a whole host of emotions, one after the other, and he didn't have time to work them out. Instead, he simply found himself nodding like a dumbass and scurrying towards the door. Before he left, he turned and cleared his throat before gearing himself up for what he was about to say.

“In- in that case. Would you- I'd appreciate it if you did, ahh, speak to the owner about that table. She deserves to be spoiled for just one night, doesn't she?”

“I will do my best and let you know by the end of the week.” Tailor replied without looking up, he was back at his desk, doing what appeared to be busywork.

“Thank you, Rick. You know, this is really going to-”

“It's nothing. Anything for the love of my life, do take care of her, won't you?”

I.C could hear the smirk in his voice and clenched his teeth, embarrassment rising hot below his skin. He left before he had the chance to say anything else.

Asshole.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #oc ricks #tailor rick #ice cream rick #fanfiction #my ocs

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