Aw, c'mon now. Really? Fucking really. How the ever-living shit am I supposed to go to my fucking doctor's appointment with tits? I mean, seriously now. I need to get this thing off of my fucking leg. Like - yesterday-like. It's fucking itchy.
And Evelyn said I could probably get it off. She promised. I can't have lady-bits right now. Ugh. Fuckers
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I want to be glad about the tits. I do. I love my tits. They're fantastic. But, seriously? Timing. Bad, terrible, horrible timing.
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Well, shit.
That makes an unhealthy amount of sense, Bossman. You're like - fuck, you're brilliant. Like - seriously. I could climb you like a tree. Well, uh, if I had full use of my limbs. Y'know. Right. That.
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And if whatever is on your leg is really that itchy, a trip to a doctor may not be the worst thing. Find another doctor if you fear going to your own. Cocytus would appreciate it. And likely the new additions as well.
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Cast. Casts are itchy. And heavy. And seriously fucking annoying. And Nurse Evelyn loves me. I wouldn't betray her in such a manner. She might refuse to make me babies in the future. And then how would Cocytus and I begin to build our tiny-person army?
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If, however, you are more womanly than just the busty bits...
Well.
I hear there's a fantastic theater troupe nearby. And what are you two going to do with a tiny-person army?
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And what else do you do with tiny people? Raise them.
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