Funny story: I was a Girl Scout. I was such a promising child.
Funnier story: I recently had a run-in with a book that had way too much of an interest in my sex life. If you were involved with that---and I have a feeling you were---you get a fruit basket.
In that case, you owe me and Aziraphale. I was after a copy of The Will and the Loom. He got back a copy of Hugh Hefner's Country Living when 'e bought it off an internet auction site.
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We need to talk. The world's blown its lid.
[ a pause, like she wants to say something else. She doesn't, though. ]
Just call me back.
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It's fucked to heaven and back, all right. You got any juice? I seem to've gone dry. Along with everything else.
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I've got nothing---I'm wrung out. I can't touch or feel anything.
I'm losing my shit. This isn't straight-up end of the world, but it's bad. It's really bad.
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It's not just you or I or even powers. The ghosts are gone. It's as though all the life force's been stripped from the place.
I rather wonder whether it's our magic we've lost or if there's just no magic to use.
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there is a griffin
Something magic there
I'm surprisingly okay with it
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Okay?
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Point of interest: would this mutual friend's name be Edward?
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Right, then. You want to know wot, exactly?
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Funnier story: I recently had a run-in with a book that had way too much of an interest in my sex life. If you were involved with that---and I have a feeling you were---you get a fruit basket.
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My name is Red Robin. I have some questions that I've been told are more your area of expertise than someone else's.
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Or so I'm told.
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