[France is sitting on the ground, away from the tall grass. He's dusty and somewhat mussed as to be expected from someone who ran away from an approaching herd of electric zebra. He looks up at Envy's call and tries to smile, although it comes out strained and a flush of embarrassment comes over his cheeks.]
Envy!
[He gets up and attempts to dust himself off and look presentable. It's quickly obvious that isn't going to happen, and France sighs, now just embarrassed.]
[Action]
Envy!
[He gets up and attempts to dust himself off and look presentable. It's quickly obvious that isn't going to happen, and France sighs, now just embarrassed.]
Why does this keep happening?