you hear a flurry of clicking and tapping getting louder from zhe ozher side of zhe door
it bursts open. it's me, wearing a lab coat, holding zhe door open wizh my twiggy grabbyhand and panting
i zhrow a zhing at you, sitting upon your chair in zhe middle of zhis empty room, and bolt away
wyd
wizhout even processing what it is zhat's flying zhrough zhe air at you, you snap at it, biting down cleanly as it soars
it's a slightly undercooked sausage. very slightly.
you'll probably be ok but now zhere's like a quarter of a sausage just lying on zhe carpet
you go to TOWN on zhis quarter of a sausage, not even in zhe chair anymore you are on zhe floor face mushed up against zhe carpet you want SAUSAGE you want BITE you want RIP AND TEAR you don't even know if zhere's any sausage left but you are RIPPING AND TEARING SOMEZHING AND IT FEELS GOOD
after some time has passed I look up, wondering where I am and how I got here
you are: dragon
you are in: pile of rubble
you got here by: being invited by a gregarious little blue zhing
