Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Wag the Dog

Bob says "I would like a puppy in the house for my birthday. I'm not sure it's all going to work out, but if I must ask for something, that would be it."

If I have to kill someone for a puppy, it's happening. I've watched him get sad every time we have to delay submitting applications, or it looks like we might be rejected for some reason. We have a giant pile of toys that's been waiting, unplayed-with, for going on over a month now. It has been depressing the hell out of ME as well. Puppy toys, after all, should have owners.
If I have to draw forth dark alchemical charms and birth a necro-pup from cursed clay and the blood of my own veins and give it life with unspeakable magics, it is going to friggin' happen. I love this man, and he will get a puppy for his birthday. If I have to go to jail for stealing someone else's, he'll get one.

Then he says "Oh, and cheese fries."

That's all? Hell, we can do that too.

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