One girl's journey to become perfect and marry a cute demon.
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“You are an embodiment of my feelings and my deepest truth, my secret dreams and fears.”
“You’re going into the garbage.”
I not sure this is how art therapy is supposed to go.
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“This is fine.”
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“You know, sweet young thing, there’s easier work out there than internet scamming. And it’s more fun, too.”
*whimper*
“Oh gosh what’s that over there it’s a guard-”
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“Those coffee beans remind you of something, chef? Because I can tell you cook with a lot of beans.”
“I mean I can smell it.”
“Woo! More like Chef Fart-ran, amirite?”
“That - I would never overuse beans in a dish! I’m a professional!”
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Hey! I bought you a chocolate bun thing and a coffee. Why so glum, chum?
“Because I just electrocuted myself?”
Yeah, but now that guy knows you’re hard. He’s not gonna mess with a girl who electrocutes herself to get out of a conversation. You’re wily, like an electric ee”l, or the noble platypus.
“I guess. I-”
Oh shoot!
“What?”
Nothing, just eat your chocolate bread. And don’t look up. Maybe never look up again.
Eep.
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“You know, guy, maybe you were right about me. I should take your selfless offer seriously!”
“Exactly, my dear.”
“Let’s shake on it.” *giggle*
“Ah!”
“Are you all right?”
“I-i-i-i-i- I’m f-f-f-fine!”
“It must be all this static! From the weather! Excuse me!”
I didn’t even know handbuzzers could backfire. Huh!
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“Okay, bud, what’s your offer? Hurry up, I got emails to send.”
“My dear girl, it’s obvious you need a stabilizing influence. If you would consider an offer of matrimony-”
“Ugh!”
“Ugh! I’m never going to feel clean again!”
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“Excuse me, young lady! That computer is for paying customers only! But perhaps we could strike a bargain. . .”
what level of mischief lets you set someone on fire with your mind?
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“Dear Sir/Madam, I am in urgent need of your aid. My coffers are overflowing but I require the aid of a a stalwart compatriot to realize-”
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Olive! There’s no eating in the library! You put that pear back in your inventory right now!
I can’t believe I’ve raised this kind of monster.
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“Hey, Wendy!”
“Yes?”
“I’m having a house party tonight, wanna come?”
“Oh, sure! It’s a little last minute, but that sounds-”
“Pranked! I don’t even have a house, dummy.”
“Oh. Okay? You . . . got me?”
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Okay, little match girl, I get it. You know you own a coat, right?
“It doesn’t even have full sleeves.”
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What are you doing?
“I’m looking for shelter because I’m in my pajamas in the middle of a blizzard, Dad.”
Yeah, I guess it would mess up the challenge if you froze to death.
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“This sure gives a new meaning to frosted cereal. Ha. Ha. Ha.”
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“Behold the horrors and gross temptations of my slightly bared midriff! Boo!”
“I don’t find this very amusing, young lady. How do you ever hope to find a husband-”
“Ew.”
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“I don’t see why a young girl would insist on dressing so immodestly!”
“If it bothers you so much than quit staring! Jeez!”
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Who’s that thing tuned to, again?”
“Me. I’m doing this because you made me eat food that literally set my mouth on fire.”
Oh. Cool.
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