"Oh, gosh. Terribly sorry, old chap, don't know what came over me. Well, I do, actually - I have a bit of a condition, jolly rare in fact. I have a terrible rage which is set off by a small handful of words, bit like the one with all the swearing, and unfortunately you said one - you know the one, entrepreneuri-" Halesey begins to say, but sinks to his knees once the fateful word is uttered, holding his head in his hands.
"ARGGGGGG! JUST! JU-ohnoit'scomingagainpleaseifIstartgurglingcallmyemployeesbackin" he starts to frightfully mutter, his mind concentrating on making that damn potato vortex a reality right here, right now.
[Halesey's affinity roll: 3+1]
A vortex begins to form in front of Herbert's face opening a sizable hole in the fabric of spacetime. This is alarming, as said vortex seems to be floating in an immobile fashion in thin air. Well, that's how Herbert sees it, anyway. To Halesey, this is merely Saturday.
[Herbert's body roll: 2]
The agent tries to get away from the vortex, but is a bit too slow, as the vortex immediately pulls his head in with what Halesey can't help but consider a satisfying plop.
"Aagh! Sweet mother of god, what's happening?" comes his muffled cry from within the vortex, almost inaudible.
Larry, meanwhile, was about to remark on the lack of potatoes, but there it went. That eldritch whisper of tuber rubbing up against tuber. It is a sound altogether familiar to Larry by now, enough to recognize it at 50 paces and run immediately, at any rate.