âSo it appears, in your attempt to carry me to my destination, you've plumped be back on this bench. Granny explains.
âWell, I mean this is where I first met you, so this is where you live... Right? Butters asserts.
â...I don't live on the bench outside of the New Builds, no.
Butters kicks the dirt in a little bit of embarrassment, not really thinking about how Granny could've directed them to her house at any time, but didn't. The Mouse has a little chuckle to herself for tormenting The Squirrel.
âThat was quite a punch we had back there, wasn't it? Granny excitedly recounts. Reminds me of the scraps I got into as a teen.
âWere you quite the scrapper back then? Butters asks, sitting right beside Granny.
âOh yes, had no redeeming qualities, but had a lot to prove. Eventually I got recognised by the cops one too many times after kicking some of the boys heads in you see.
âYou ever get banged up?
âNaawwh managed to barely escape every time, the closest I ever got was after they diagnosed me with Silly Brain, then the threat of getting thrown in the looney bin started getting serious you know? So I had to do my time in one of them support groups occasionally. The Hevan whatjamacall it they called it.
Butters hair stands on end as they slowly turn to face Granny, that name is familiar to them.
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