P
Pastor ćhoi
Guest
On one end, the cheese grater's tool demanded some chivalric duel to end all lies and hate and usher in a new era of frenchie bullocking. She was no longer finding him attractive. He was steadily proving himself to be as old as his armor.
"Ei, Urgroßvater, was hast du für große Ohren!"
On the other end, treachery came from the rear. Her own master -her own master!- threatened her with forced compliance over a french whore. Now, threats were a healthy part of every relationship between a superior and a subordinate, but to squander resources on a frenchie? That was akin to walking the streets of Paris and not wanting to burn it to the ground. Surely their leaning tower was proof of the crookedness of the french soul?
"Aber, Großmutter, was hast du für ein entsetzlich großes Maul!"
Riding hood made a sound. A low rumble of disapproval that corrected a geographical oversight.
No, I'm quite sure's it isn't in Italy. Good try though.
On the final end, there was the frenchie. Oh, yes, she played the part of a german dame: inoffensive, moderate, not french, but Rider could see the spark behind those warm eyes that belied a crazed soul. Oh, what grand magecraft was this, that a frenchie could crawl out of the crib and not be beaten to death in this modern, civilized world?
But this actor's farce could go both ways.
"I understand, my master" Rider said, bowing her head down in contrition. Riding Hood disappeared in a flash of red, as did the pistol. "I apologize to you all for my indecent actions. I should have never doubted the honor of our esteemed partners. Your nationality is not an issue-" A stab of pain into her heart. "-and is, in fact, a boon. May you wear it in good health. May you live a full life. " May you not die in the rain alone, surrender monkey. "If my master is agreeable, we will accept this new location."
"Ei, Urgroßvater, was hast du für große Ohren!"
On the other end, treachery came from the rear. Her own master -her own master!- threatened her with forced compliance over a french whore. Now, threats were a healthy part of every relationship between a superior and a subordinate, but to squander resources on a frenchie? That was akin to walking the streets of Paris and not wanting to burn it to the ground. Surely their leaning tower was proof of the crookedness of the french soul?
"Aber, Großmutter, was hast du für ein entsetzlich großes Maul!"
Riding hood made a sound. A low rumble of disapproval that corrected a geographical oversight.
No, I'm quite sure's it isn't in Italy. Good try though.
On the final end, there was the frenchie. Oh, yes, she played the part of a german dame: inoffensive, moderate, not french, but Rider could see the spark behind those warm eyes that belied a crazed soul. Oh, what grand magecraft was this, that a frenchie could crawl out of the crib and not be beaten to death in this modern, civilized world?
But this actor's farce could go both ways.
"I understand, my master" Rider said, bowing her head down in contrition. Riding Hood disappeared in a flash of red, as did the pistol. "I apologize to you all for my indecent actions. I should have never doubted the honor of our esteemed partners. Your nationality is not an issue-" A stab of pain into her heart. "-and is, in fact, a boon. May you wear it in good health. May you live a full life. " May you not die in the rain alone, surrender monkey. "If my master is agreeable, we will accept this new location."