“¡Brraaaawk! ¡The culinary quality is falling! ¡The culinary quality is falling!”
Fowl fowl: he’ll get me in trouble.
Everything’s always getting me in trouble.
His eyes bounced round the room, only to see the Dictator still standing by the door with that smarmy smile o’ his.
That smile—that was the worst. When one’s so convinced that they’re helping you, how can you fight gainst them.
He looked down @ the tray still on his desk, the carpet-fuzz-filled fork now crawling with maggots & purple li’l roaches unseen before.
He looked up @ the clock, only for it to spin back an hour just after hitting 1, & sighed.