[Parsee would never admit it, but the bitter taste in her mouth was the fault of the spiders.
The vicious, venomous spiders inside the turkey. Scuttling, hideous. Yet she didn't- couldn't trample them. It was almost ridiculously laughable if one thought about it; even with her sharp tongue and hateful diatribe, she was somehow just a bit too soft
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How will you grapple with this sudden jealousy, Klaus? What does it make you think of?]
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Blam! Down goes a tree.
Dist can just prance around Mayfield with his perfect intact Spark (so it isn't a Spark. It's close enough. Far too close for Klaus's liking), making people guns.
Blam! The treetrunk is splintered into teeny little pieces.
Dist can make people guns, working machinery, and Klaus couldn't even fix a slightly-damaged clank that he himself invented. Now how is that fair? Dist is a whiny, self-serving, pompous little aristo. Klaus could squish him into jelly with one hand!
Blam! The teeny little pieces become teenier.
And Klaus isn't going to put up with this. He's going to go find Dist and show him what this blasted gun is good for. He managed to make some improvements.
Dist probably won't like them.]
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Isn't it gorgeous?
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