« Super Markson Day! | Main | A paradox of taste »

February 10, 2008

Comments

Oh Ben. That was painful.

But in a good way, right?

But then Pythia felt contrite, and brought Amaltheia some of the home-made brew she kept on hand for libations and such. She offered a cup of it to Amaltheia as a peace offering, but to no avail. Amaltheia grabbed the cup, smashed it to ground, shouting, "Mead again!!! I'd still rather hang in acage."

I don't get it.

The comments to this entry are closed.