#between a were-horse and the pinnochio-iffication of phileaux they have been utterly unhinged this season and i am loving it

[18catsreading]

Griffin: he nods at you as you walk past. You reflexively, lady Godwin, grab his oatmeal and just bury your face in it, and just start eating the oatmeal. And after the hot oatmeal hits you in the face it only takes a few moments for you to come to your senses. But you have reflexively just stolen this old man's oatmeal.

Old man: what are you doing?

Lady Godwin: oh I am so terribly sorry, I --

Old man: I brought this from home

Lady Godwin: I don't know what came over me. Let me clean this up. [As Justin]: she starts trying to wipe up the oatmeal.

Griffin: you reach down to wipe up the oatmeal and some of it splattered on the table. You reach down - and as you reach down you hear *clop* clunk. And you notice that your hand is not a hand anymore. It is a hoof. And that is when everyone else inside the Ghostlight Pub watches you twist and contort. You fall down all fours. And you heave and arch your back, which doubles in length. Your legs grow and thicken and all end in big powerful hooves. Your neck stretches, your face stretches as though it were rubber. And you recover, and stand up, proudly, on all four hooves. You have turned into a were-horse.