"And on that, my friend, we can agree," says Cat to the troll, grinning and munching on some fish and chips she bought a few minutes previously from the stand across the road.
Nothing to see here, puny mortals. Move along.
"I’m always going to embarrass myself and I’m pretty comfortable with that now." — Misha Collins
A well-regulated Militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed ~Second Amendment.
Fine, fine! Have it your way. *Hands him a bag of french fries, which have gone through so much processing that they are probably less than fifty percent potato, and more than fifty percent stuff we don't want to think about.*
A well-regulated Militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed ~Second Amendment.
Suddenly, a group of several huge men from the potato chip company in question fling the door open and charge through, rudely refusing the offer of a beverage and/or potato. Behind the shadows of their fedoras, their faces are just empty shadows. Their trench coats flap in the breeze from the doorway behind them. They glare threateningly around the Tavern, scanning each face. The one in front is the first to speak.
"Who mentioned the questionable 50% of our products?" he growls in a dangerously quiet voice.
After a moment of dead stillness, PickledChrissy raises her hand into the air fearlessly. "I did," she answers.
"Ah. It was just that one," the faceless man says, relaxing his shoulders. "I thought we had a situation. Update her file, boys, and we'll go."
One of the men pulls a laptop out from under his coat and begins typing rapidly on it. In half a minute, he's done. Then they straighten up and exit the way they came in- dramatically.
There is a moment of silence as everyone tries to process what the heck just happened. Then, the troll breaks it by declaring in his loudest voice,
"Anybody want a chip?"
Nothing to see here, puny mortals. Move along.
"I’m always going to embarrass myself and I’m pretty comfortable with that now." — Misha Collins
"No thank you," replies Silver simply, "I don't want to touch anything that was made by a group who appears to be Orwell's Big Brother in disguise. I prefer carrots anyway."
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse a persona che mai tornasse al mondo, questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero, senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.
I hope I’m poetic and interesting and insightful and inspiring and fun and entertaining and all of those wonderful, beautiful things — creeperfeverdreams
