Radish1W: Remember, months ago, when I caught your gaze in that crowded mobbish mob scene?
timult_scorn: Is that why you called me here?
Radish1W: Ion! You sphere! Where are you that you are not where you aren't?
timult_scorn: There are multiple responses I could give you.
Radish1W: Well...?
timult_scorn: Less than many, but a tad more than few- and a tad must be measured precisely- is the secret alchemical function of a spot of transfiguration (after a minor duration); here, my boy, you have an ablation!
Radish1W: Could you more or less say that, when we spoke the last time, you were not completely direct in your manner of confronting me?
timult_scorn: I will say only this: My lonely crawl across the dusk of your understanding finds me a fugitive to all things of great tale. Yet I crawl, and for what? For you to ask me 'which knee did I start on?' Here now is the death-stroke to all good graces!
Radish1W: Roots made of mercury and mortar that corrodes from the inside, out! Are these my rank and class?
timult_scorn: There you have it! You must be as you'd have me accuse you.
No comments:
Post a Comment