And so, the last little tiny whispers of pride are gone forever. Stomped into the ground. Dead. Mortified into ash. Oblivion. Decimated.
DEAD.
Oh good Lord... the things he does for love... (Thank you, Courage.)
He is so red it seems like all the blood in his body should surely be in his face, crouching down to hug his head when she finally gives it up and is satisfied, instead, to roll on the bed in a laugh-puddle. G... God. He is going to sincerely die of mortification, fisting silver hair in embarrassment oh God save his soul....
"Are you happy now?!" Comes the muffled voice from his position of woe. This is the last time he plays chicken with her.
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DEAD.
Oh good Lord... the things he does for love...
(Thank you, Courage.)He is so red it seems like all the blood in his body should surely be in his face, crouching down to hug his head when she finally gives it up and is satisfied, instead, to roll on the bed in a laugh-puddle. G... God. He is going to sincerely die of mortification, fisting silver hair in embarrassment oh God save his soul....
"Are you happy now?!" Comes the muffled voice from his position of woe. This is the last time he plays chicken with her.
...And that includes the chicken dancing.