#i think those are all correct please let me know if i misidentified any of them!!!

[heartnosekid]

weirdolini on ig

[migleefulmoments]

Klaineownsmysoul and her response to my message 'Heaven help us all. How do you know that person is in fact a child? Because they say so? You believe everything you read on the Internet, then?' (um, isn't that what the coven do? lol) I never saw the child's initial post; but did see their response to it, and have no reason to believe they aren't a child; a child who's maturity level far exceeds the coven's. Wish they'd practice what they preach and stay in their own lane.

Flowers finally got an anon and it really set her off...she went on full bitch mode and then tagged it #Michy. Sorry Flo, it wasn’t me. I find it HI-LARIOUS that they keep misidentifying anons as me. Their maniacal documenting of IP addresses is even more of a waste of time if you can’t figure out who sent it. 

Here’s the progression of the conversation: 

flowersintheattic254

Darren laughing anon - feel the need to debunk again?

I think @cassie1022 is correct. It’s like a regular bowel movement with you.

I do worry about you anon. That you wait for the slightest thing to jump on.

So I guess that some of SK are on that compilation and he looks happy. Of course he is, as they are people he’s known since university with a shared sense of humour and D riffs off some of them naturally. The girls and wives unfortunately facilitate the beard, as do some of the men occasionally and we all know about the sham, but I guess they get some attention from that. I suppose everyone needs to work. D just did a show with some of them so I guess he has repaid their loyalty for whatever they supported him with.

Doesn’t make M less of a beard. I also wouldn’t say the recent SK weddings showed Mi@rren as a perfect couple (see below), but you can dream away Anon.

Also from the beginning they all had a pretty insensitive attitude towards M. Regardless of what changed as time dragged on they didn’t show much respect in the early days. Yup I hope you can defend these heinous people making a joke at M’s expense. Please attack their extended families and threaten to dox them professionally in the name of Mi@rren too you absolute ass.

leka-1998 Oh, thanks for reminding me of the first wives club. In the words of L/ena H/all, “First husband? Hahahahaha, kidding!!! First and only husband.”

Caution, dramatic gif incoming.

flowersintheattic254 @leka-1998 😂. Thank you.

************************************

Flowers:  Wow anon - Guess my last post really stung you huh!

I was going to write you a long response as I do have some points to make about SK and their mutually beneficial arrangements, then I realized what you said was a tad petulant and childish. You know just saying they are all in a happy love bubble with no supporting argument doesn’t make it real right?

Then I realised you are just one of those people that have to have the last word. So here have this on me.

Anonymous asked:

Okluvubye😘😂

#michy #hey look i got the last word #so I’ll be the fool this time.

************************************************

anon: You know why I sounded like a fucking child is because I am a child because no grown woman has time to bitch on a blog and google about having the last word.And I might be a child but judging by your posts I’m a lot more mature.I don’t go around and criticizing a celebs wife and weirdly fetishising about two guys that don’t even seem friends.Hope someday you get a grip on reality and realize that spending your day blogging about people unaware of your existence is a waste of time.kluvyabye*

flowersintheattic254 answered: I wasn’t going to post you, but I wanted to show my followers just how crazy you still are (although between me and you, I think they already know) 😉. Also way to go on the whole maturity thing with how you started and ended your email. Cleary ‘more mature* of you 🤦‍♀️.

You should copy the historic example below and send me some love 😀. Instead of shooting a quick anon of hate.

Let me be very clear about something. I don’t care what you think of me, my blogging habits or any of my other interests and you won’t police what I write. So I will continue to mock you and not take anything you say particularly seriously and do me. I like me, a me who is happy and confident in what she knows and who she is.

I will ask you one thing, as you always say the players don’t know of our existence. Then why are YOU so bothered about it. Why is your belief so fragile it’s threatened by what we write here. Your fragility over proving her authenticity as a wife and D’s str8ness isn’t badass and neither is this anon.

So here’s a message from me to you below. Maybe try it?

Toodles!!!! 👋

klaineownsmysou

************************************************

Anonymous asked: You and your so called friends wouldn't know a TRUE sign of maturity if it bit you on your nose. Grow the fuck up! Chastising a child because she dared to question you and your hags is low. Darren would be so proud. Shame on you.

Klainownsmysoul: Heaven help us all.  How do you know that person is in fact a child?  Because they say so?  You believe everything you read on the Internet, then?  OK, well I’m a Nigerian prince and I have a fortune to send you if you’ll only share your routing, account, and social security numbers with me.  And if so, why is a child sending hateful messages to strangers - not “questioning” as you put it - but a rude vulgar comment?  And you’re ok then, with them doing so?  They are allowed to say whatever they like and spew vile ridiculous messages to anyone and no one can comment otherwise?  I’m sure D would be proud of that as well.  And you for doing the exact same thing.  Congratulations.  I’d bring up the term “ironic” here but I’m not sure you’d understand.

One more time for the people in the back: WHY DO YOU CARE SO MUCH?  Why are you stalking blogs that post content you don’t agree with?  I just don’t get it.  And we are the crazy obsessed ones? I have never once sent nasty notes to someone on this site and will never do so. Sending hate via the anon feature is the coward way’s out.  I don’t reblog, like, or comment on every post that comes across my dashboard; I am perfectly capable of scrolling by something and letting it go - that is what mature people do.  Perhaps give it a whirl?  Meanwhile, me and my hags will be over here in our little corner.  Try staying in yours.

#Anonymous

************************************************

What a hot mess of total nonsense.  

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (56/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous Chapters conveniently available here

[9 June 236 Before Age.  Hobstot III.]

(Dr. Feelgood, Part ⑤)

"It’s better this way.  You gave a merry chase, arachnoid, but it will be I, Koda Shibike, who pens the final chapter of your career, bounty hunter."

"I... beg your pardon?"

Dr. Topsas had awoken to find all eight of his limbs chained to the floor of a room he had never seem before.  The last thing he recalled was a bookstore on Hobstot III, where he and his friend Zatte had been ambushed by a very eccentric gunman.  He had been shot, but the ammunition in question was a dart shaped like the nib of a fountain pen, and the tip was coated in some sort tranquilizer.  It was a primitive, inefficient weapon with a limited range, but the shooter’s agility and precise movements had managed to compensate.

Topsas had grown somewhat accustomed to danger.  He had been on Extraliga when the Wist invasion began, and then he had been captured and detained in a prison camp run by fairies.  These and other adventures were precipitated by his association with the Super Saiyan Luffa.   Naturally, he assumed his captor was connected to her in some way.

But apparently not.  This man, Shikibe, seemed to have Dr. Topsas confused with someone else.  Under different circumstances, Topsas might have found it amusing to be mistaken for a dangerous bounty hunter.  Earlier, Zatte had explained to him that her species had evolved blue skin and bright red hair to serve as a warning to potential predators, but this was in fact a biological bluff.    Dorluns like Zatte weren’t actually poisonous, but their coloration was meant to mimic some other life forms who were.    Now, Topsas had found himself dealing with the flip side of that natural defense.    Shikibe had misidentified the doctor as a threat, and instead of avoiding him, he had chosen to attack.

"It is my great pleasure to defy those in power," Shikibe rambled on.  "Society frowns upon my penchant for hunting and killing your kind.  They demand that I cease, and I, Koda Shikibe, refuse.  My editors demand that I draw original work instead of recolors of existing characters,  but I, Koda Shikibe, refuse."

"From where I stand, Mr. Shikibe, the one in power is you," Topsas replied gently.  "Would you believe me if I told you that I am a physician, and not a bounty hunter?"

"A pointless, desperate ruse."

Topsas regarded the man carefully.  He was humanoid, rather pale in complexion, though it was difficult to be certain of his natural coloration because of all the green cosmetics he was wearing.  His hair looked like a pile of leaves clipped from a fake plant from a waiting room in one of Topsas' old offices.  Around his forehead, Shikibe wore what might be generously called a 'headband', although it appeared to have been crafted from construction paper.  His pants were loose and baggy, while his shirt was comically undersized, barely covering his upper abdomen.

It was far too little to make an accurate diagnosis, but Topsas was beginning to suspect that the man was suffering from some kind of mental illness.  Perhaps some of his unusual behavior could be explained away as alien cultural pratices, but not all of it.  

At best, Shikibe had constructed an elaborate paranoid fantasy in which he was a fugitive murder.

At worst, Shikibe really was a fugitive murderer.

As things stood, Topsas wasn’t sure there was much of a difference.

"Very well," Topsas said evenly.  "Let us suppose that I am this bounty hunter, although I deny it.  How did you capture me so easily?"

"Your cover was admittedly brilliant," Shikibe said.  "But you failed to consider the power of my Thoughtform."

"Thoughtform?"

Koda laughed.  "On my homeworld of Abaj, everyone has the ability to generate physical manifestations of their mental energy.  Each has its own unique powers."

He paused, and then without warning he cried out:  "Dr. Feelgood!"

Suddenly, a ghostly figure emerged from his body and stood beside him.  Topsas recognized this as the sniper who had attacked him and Zatte in the bookstore.  It vaguely resembled its master, although it looked more like a robot wearing a wide-brimmed hat and cradling an old-fashioned rifle.

"You rang?" it asked cordially.

"This was the creature that shot us," Topsas said.

"The gun and ammunition are all part of my thoughtform," Shikibe said proudly.  It raised its hand, revealing a set of claws on its fingertips which resembled the nibs of fountain pens.  Shikibe plucked one of them off and admired its appearance.

"I am an artist above all else," he boasted.  "The appearance of Dr. Feelgood is an outward manifestation of the creative storm that constantly rages within me.    Just as ink from my pen infuses my aesthetic onto the blank page, anyone struck by these darts will fall under my influence."

"That fellow you shot in the bookstore," Topsas said.  "He went berserk.  I thought the dart was drugged, but it seems to have had no such effect on myself."

"The darts were drugged, not with chemicals, but rather a psychic energy which I can control," Shikibe explained.  "There are limits depending on the biology of the target, but it’s a simple matter to induce extreme drowsiness in almost any life form."

He glared at Topsas, then pointed at him, and all at once Topsas felt a profound weariness come upon him.  He couldn’t remember having ever been so sleepy.

"There, you see?" Shikibe asked.  "The effects of the dart will fade over time, but until they do, I can make you as sleepy as a college student cramming for final exams."

And just when Topsas thought he would finally nod off, the effect was lifted, and he was suddenly as awake and alert as he had been a moment ago.  He then realized that this was how he had woken up in this place.  It was an unsettling experience to say the least.

"So you rendered me unconscious and brought me here," Topsas said.  "To what end?  And what have you done with Zatte?"

"Whom?" Shikibe asked idly.

"The lady," replied Dr. Feelgood.

"Ah, the blue woman with the red hair," Shikibe said.  His voice was practically dripping with resentment towards those colors, as if they had personally wronged him somehow.  

"If you say so, chief," Dr. Feelgood said.  "Everyone just looks kind of grey to me."

"Fortunately, I can correct that oversight when I capture her likeness in sketches," Shikibe said.

"Sketches?" Topsas asked incredulously.  "You mean to tell me that you brought us here to draw pictures of us?"

"Don’t be absurd," Shikibe scoffed.  "I brought her here to use as a reference for my sketches.  I brought you here so that I can kill you and use your bodily fluids to blend green pigments for my work.  But I find that my models are more cooperative when I take hostages."

Topsas was doing his best to remain calm, but he felt his pedipalps begin to quiver with unease.  If Shikibe noticed, he didn’t show it.  The Abajian simply turned and walked away.

"First, I must perform my daily finger stretches," he announced to no one in particular.  "Then I must alphabetize my collection of Fabian Fitzroy paper sleeves.  Discipline above all."

As he opened the door to leave, he flipped a switch on the wall, activating a second set of lights in the room.  Topsas thought nothing of this at first, but then he heard a low mumble, and noticed Zatte sitting in a chair twenty feet away.

*******

(Dr. Feelgood, Part ⑥)

"He sounds like an idiot," Zatte groaned after Topsas informed her of their situation.  "I almost wish he was one of Luffa’s enemies.  At least then there’d be a clear motive for all of this."

"Whatever his motive, we appear to be at his mercy," Topsas said.  "Apparently the only reason I’m alive is so that you’ll sit still for his portraits."

"Sit still?" Zatte grumbled.  "I can barely move in this chair.  He’s got me trussed up with... wait, this stuff feels like fishing line."

Topsas lowered his head as he looked at the bonds holding Zatte’s ankles to the legs of the chair.    "Yes, now that you mention it, I believe it is fishing line.  But you should be able to break free of that easily."

Zatte struggled, but found she could do nothing.  "It’s no good," she said, gasping with exhaustion from the effort.  "He... must have... done something to me with... his powers."

"That is distressing to say the least," Topsas said.

"Pretty sure he only tied me to this chair to keep me from falling off of it," Zatte said after catching her breath.  "At least he let me keep my clothes on."

"Is the chair bolted down?" Topsas asked.  Perhaps if you could move closer we might--"

"Maybe he just wants to draw my face," Zatte mused.  "It’s kind of flattering, really.  If he would have just asked me, I might have paid him for a copy.  Maybe given that to Luffa.  Beats looking around all day for a gift."

"Ms. Zatte..."

"I don’t know, she probably wouldn’t get it," Zatte said.  "'I see you all the time, Zattie, what do I need a drawing for?'  She has a really stunted sense of imagination, you know?"

"Ms. Zatte, are you feeling all right?"

"Heh.  I guess I could get somebody to draw me in the buff.  'Here, honey, something to keep you warm on those lonely nights on the training ground.  Hee hee hee!  She’d be mortified!"

"Zatte, can you hear me?"

"No, no no.  I have to think of something else.  It’s kind of weird giving someone a picture of yourself as a gift, right? Right?  Yeah.  Wow.  Oh, right.  I can hear you, doctor.  What’s wrong?"

"I think our 'host' has done more to you than merely sapping your strength," Topsas said.

"Right, sorry," she said.  "You’re right.  I feel a little light-headed.  Maybe it’s from trying to break free a minute ago.  Remember that?  That was weird.  Heh.  Don't worry, doctor.  I’ve been in worse spots than this.  We’ll get out of this."

"I fail to see how."

"We Dorluns are survivors, Doctor.  The first step is to take stock of your resources.  I've got you, and you've got me.  This--heh!--power Shikibe has over me is canceling out my ki, making me so weak I can barely move.   But I bet I can still make myself invisible."

She concentrated, in spite of the inebriating effects of Shikibe's power.  Each Dorlun had a unique ability which manifested at a certain age.  Zatte doubted that Shikibe could block this without knowing more about her species.  She mentally added that to her inventory of potential resources.  When she was reasonably sure she had warped the light all the way around herself, she asked the doctor: "Can you see me?"

"Not at all.  Nor can I see what possible good that does us," Topsas said in a despondent voice.  

"It's just a test," Zatte explained.  "If my power still works, that means I should be able to manipulate other forms of energy as well.  Like the heat from these light fixtures.   If I could focus it all onto a piece of this fishing line I'm wrapped up in, then I might be able to melt it."

"And then what?" Topsas asked.  "Weak as you are, you'd still be unable to act.  You'd merely slide out of that chair, as you said before."

"One problem at a time, doctor," Zatte said.

*******

(Dr. Feelgood, Part ⑦)

"All I'm saying is that maybe this doesn't make a lot of sense."

Koda Shikibe considered these words carefully as he flexed his fingers one by one, then shook his head.  "Impossible.  My scheme makes perfect sense."

His thoughtform, Dr. Feelgood, stood beside him as they spoke.  "You keep killing all those arachnoids and taking their money," he said patiently.  "Now they send this bounty hunter after us to get revenge, right?  Only he says he's not a bounty hunter, which makes a lot of sense, seeing as he barely put up a fight when we caught him."

"He's a bounty hunter," Shikibe insisted.  "His people hired him to take revenge.  They see what I've done as mere crimes.  Bah!"  

He walked across the room to his desk, where he picked up a severed forelimb that had once belonged to an arachnoid.  As he continued speaking, he caressed it lovingly.  "I killed those creatures for the sake of ART, and nothing more!  To be sure, I did help myself to their financial accounts, and the art I produced from their deaths was popular enough to afford me a few creature comforts, such as this limited edition collection of Magical Girl figurines."  He took a hobby knife from his desk and waved it at a shelf containing his prized collection, then he pointed it at Feelgood.

"Look, I'm sorry--" the thoughtform said, beggaring off.

"The truth is that I do none of this for mere money, or any sort of sadistic pleasure.  My one goal is to further the progression of my art, so that it may be consumed and appreciated across the entire universe.  And there is only one way to do that, and that is to use the hemolymph of arthropodic life forms, and why is that?"

"Uh... I don't know," the robot said.  

"For the COLOR, you uncultured boor," Shikibe said.  He turned to his desk and stabbed the knife into a small spider that happened to be crawling upon its surface, then he turned back to the robot to show him the creature now impaled on the blade.  "Hemolymph brings out the perfect shade of green for lips, hair, clothing, anything at all!  Lesser artists may rely on cheap reds and blues, buying pedestrian art supplies made from common mineral pigments, or worse, hobbling along with digital media.  But I refuse!  No, I, Koda Shikibe will not be held back by abstractions like 'morality' or 'color theory' or 'common sense'.  If a thousand thousand sentient beings must die for the sake of my art, then so be it!"  

With that, Shikibe sat down at his desk and began to brood.  He put his heels on the edge of his seat and placed his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers in a contemplative pose that looked very profound, or very awkward, depending on one's point of view.   It might have looked more dignified if he weren't staring at the severed forelimb on his desk.  

"I'm just saying that while we deal with these two, we might be leaving ourselves open to an attack by a real bounty hunter," Feelgood said.   "Either way, it's probably not safe to stay here.  We should be packing up and looking for a new hideout, not sketching alien space babes."

"It's vital that I complete my sketches," Shikibe replied.  "You're an extension of my own consciousness.  You should understand this implicitly."

Feelgood shrugged.  

"I require inspiration for my latest comic, Charmy Green Lad," Shikibe explained impatiently.  "The character designs must be flawless--!"

"I thought you just traced over other people's characters and changed the colors around, though," Feelgood said.  

"Once I have captured the woman's likeness, we can kill her and the bounty hunter, harvest the bounty hunter's hemolymph, and then we may prepare to relocate," Shikibe insisted.  "I refuse to consider any other sequence of events."

"Okay, okay," the thoughtform said.  "Let's just hurry up and get on with this."

"I refuse," Shikibe said stubbornly.  He raised his hands and began flexing his fingers once again.   "First I must finish my stretches."

*******

(Dr. Feelgood, Part ⑧)

An hour had passed.  Zatte felt she was making progress, but at a very slow pace.  The problem was that the lighting in the room was very efficient, and produced very little ambient heat for her to work with.  Her next best choice was to use the heat from her own body, but this presented an entirely different challenge. By focusing too much heat into a specific part of her body at once, she risked burning herself.  Conversely, channeling that much heat at once meant drawing it away from the rest of her body.  She could draw additional heat from the air around her, but it was a tricky balancing act under the best of circumstances.  As it was, the intoxicating effects of Dr. Feelgood made it nearly impossible.  

Fortunately, she had a few things working in her favor.  First, there was a doctor just a few yards away, so if she ended up with frostbitten toes and second degree burns on her fingers, at least she wouldn't have to go far for treatment.  

Second, there was that thrill she always experienced whenever she was in danger.  Her own culture frowned on enjoying these kinds of life-threatening situations, but she had a certain perverse appreciation for the way they honed her skills and focused her wits.  Right now, she needed all the focus she could get.  

Third, she had faith that Providence hadn't allowed her to live this long only to die here in the lair of some hipster serial killer.  Months ago, Zatte had been blessed with an epiphany, and realized that her fiancée was an important part of the Divine Plan--a xan'nil-Dor.  The Dorluns survived so that whenever they encountered these people and places of destiny, that they would be able to help them in some small way.  Luffa herself was skeptical of this, but that wasn't without precedent.  Privately, Zatte sometimes wondered if she might be wrong, but the epiphany had been too profound to reject.  At any rate, it was an excellent motivator.

Fourth, she had convinced Dr. Topsas to keep her talking while she worked.  Initially, this was just a ruse to keep the doctor's mind off his own fear.  But Zatte had to admit that she probably would have gotten distracted several times by now if she had been in this situation alone.  

They didn't know each other very well, at least aside from their mutual acquaintance through Luffa.  Fortunately, the Saiyan made a good topic of conversation.  For the last twenty minutes, they had been discussing the theological implications of a Super Saiyan xan'nil-Dor.  Topsas was respectful about it, but Zatte could tell he was unconvinced.  The important thing was that he kept her mind off the droplets of moisture condensing on her face as her body slowly dehumidified the room.  

"So what was the problem with the dolls?"  Topsas asked.  

"Huh?"

"In the bookstore, before we were captured, I suggested you give Ms. Luffa one of those dolls as a gift, for her collection," Topsas explained.  "You seemed to think this was a blind alley."

"Oh, right.  I forgot all about that," Zatte said, somewhat unsettled by the weary sound of her own voice.  "Ha.  I'm a liiiitle flighty right now, doctor."

"Yes, which was why you asked me to keep talking to you.  I have done my best, but I find myself running out of things to talk about."

"Okay, okay.  Okay," Zatte said.  "First of all, they're not 'dolls'.  They're action figures.  Luffa's very touchy about that.  Second of all.  Yeah.  Uh... third of all, she already has the whole set.   Pretty much."

"I see."

"I mean, there weren't that many toys in the line anyway.  They made that stupid movie about her, what?  Last year?  She's had plenty of time to track 'em all down.  I mean, there's 'collector variants', whatever that means.  Basically I can get her the same Rax Cosmo toy she already has, only with a maroon vest instead of blue."  She winced as she felt too much heat gather in her left wrist.  It was relatively easy to disperse it throughout her arm, but it always took far too long.  "Besides, the toys are all a joke to her anyway."

"A joke?"

"I mean, you played with toys, right?  The whole entire main point is to play out fantasy scenarios.  It prepares kids for the real world, y'know?"

"Now that you mention it, I had a doctor bag when I was small," Topsas said.  "The equipment was all made of plastic, and I was a bit frustrated that none of it really worked, but the items fascinated me all the same."

"That's what I'm talking about.   That's it.  Exactly," Zatte slurred.  "When I was little, my uncle carved some dolls out of wood for me.  Dolls, doctor.  I'm not ashamed to call them that."

"Of course, Ms. Zatte."

"Not like some people."

"I take your point."

"Some people named Luffa."

"What did you do with these dolls, Ms. Zatte?" Topsas pressed.  

"I used to paint clothes on them," Zatte said.  "Then I'd have them be soldiers.  I used to make forts out of old buckets and pots, and then station them all around it.  I'd pretend there was a xan'nil-Dor in the fort, and our company was in charge of protecting it at all costs."

"Interesting," Topsas observed.  

"Anywayyyyy, Luffa never had toys growing up.  Her mother would fight her and tell her stories, but that was about it.  Kind of sad, really.  So these toys they made about her, she just thinks they're funny because they're based on that movie, which is just a made-up version of her life that never really happened.  There's nothing inspirational about 'em.  Not to her."

"Ah, I think I understand the problem now," Topsas said.  "You've been looking for a gift that Luffa will find inspirational, like the soldiers and castles of your youth."

"Well, yeah... That'd be great.  Swelllll.   But where in the hell am I supposed to find--?"

"He's coming back," Topsas said suddenly.  

Zatte glanced at the door.  She wasn't ready.  If Shikibe figured out what she was doing, he might decide to kill them both without delay.  

For a split second, she wondered if Topsas might have been imagining things, but then she heard a click from the vicinity of the door's handle, and a droplet of condensed moisture ran down the side of her face.  

NEXT: Thus Spake Koda Shikibe

*******

[9 June 236 Before Age.  Luffasworld.]

"Are you okay?" Keda asked.  

Luffa sniffled a few times and held her hand over her nose.  "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine, kid," she said.  "Just had a sneezing fit all of a sudden."

"Must be some kind of allergen in the air around here," Keda said.   "Anyway, if you're done, I can get back to my song."

Luffa stood up and looked around the prairie for any sign of suspicious flowers, but decided there wasn't much point in worrying about it.  She could always pick up her training on some other part of the planet.  This region was pleasant enough, but she hardly needed a scenic view for pushups.  

"What'd you call it again?" Luffa asked.

"The Egg Song," Keda said proudly.  "Starts off like this... ahem..."

Luffa went to find a towel to wipe her face while Keda prepared to start.  

"Deviled, deviled, devillllled... Pickled, pickled, pickllllled... Scrambled, scrambled, scrambllllled... Coddled, Coddled, Coddllllled..."

"Wait, hold on," Luffa interrupted.  "Isn't this the same tune as 'The Liver and Onions Song'?"

"Yeah," Keda said.  "I'm trying out different words.  I figure eggs will have more mainstream appeal."

Luffa considered this for a moment, then nodded in approval.  "Damn, kid, you're some kind of marketing genius.  I don't know how you figure this stuff out, but I'm impressed."

"Thanks," Keda said.

Luffa sat down on the ground and gestured for her to continue.  

[<=To Be Continued....]