Utterly Mad

[[I noticed that having to misspell cusses is affecting the rest of my typing. But don't worry, I'm hear right now.]]

The Morals of Scrambled Eggs



Drake: The eggs tasted great, they had a slight smokey tang to them with a hint of gaminess that gave it a real punch. But when Amy walked into the room, grabbing a plate and chowing down all you could think was the following: "Jeesus Christ! You're technically eating her own children... or period? You don't whats worse. Maybe are the mutant eggs from a non-sapient breed of mutant bird. What if its toxic or what if you're allergic, OH GOD! WHAT WILL SHE THINK OF YOU NOW! AHHHHH-*this continues on for a long while*"

But alas you show no emotion, congrats, you are now Birdie Hitler. Bask in your new title.

Amy: The bacon was perhaps the baconiest bacon, you've ever ba- you mean tasted. It was pretty good up until you see Drake eating what could be unhatched bird-people eggs. He's not even batting an eye, either they're pretty damn tasty, or he has an agenda against your people.

Dankest Kush



The small boy, wide-eyed, and mouth agape decides to ask why you'd need such a herb as he heads towards the counter, "Blood Weed? I think that's what its called, I heard its pretty strong. You have some terminal condition or something?" He leans down and pulls out two pill bottle-sized vials all with dried, crushed, and a pretty strong odor. On the label is a wolf, that vaguely resembles the tall, handsome, thick-furred, commander only known as Seb.

"Well here it is, all ready for consumption or what it is that you do with it. My master said it was, "On the house." So don't worry about payment."