Look what I found in the mail this morning. My da-- blo-- lovely big sister opened ninety-three friggin' Easter eggs to get me this outfit. "Now you can't say you don't have anything nice to wear when I ask you to escort me somewhere," she says.
Relatives. You can't live with 'em, and you can't sacrifice them to nameless eldritch gods... not when they're your big sister you can't, at least.
2 comments:
Hmph. I see you did manage to get a nice picture of yourself, unlike the one you sent me when I asked to see how you looked...
And don't even think about 'accidentally' tearing it. I have a spare shirt for you, and if you ruin those pants you are in big trouble, Cal.
There is also the fact that you know the names of all the eldrich gods already...
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