(Untitled)

[gonnagetreaped]

[and on this fine Thursday afternoon, outside a certain cabin set somewhat away from the others that was left over from the rain o' cabins from awhile ago, one may find several crates, filled with packages of cookies. ... unique ones, even! some are opened, others are wrapped neatly with a bow, all laying in wait outside of the cabin

Comments

[stolemypi]

............................

[gonnagetreaped]

They would be yours, would they not?

[stolemypi]

Of course they're not!

[gonnagetreaped]

They're not mine.

[stolemypi]

If anyone, they'd belong to that replica.

[gonnagetreaped]

Then why did they arrive at our doorstep?

[stolemypi]

How should I know!

[gonnagetreaped]

If they belonged to the replica, then they would have appeared near where he was currently living, mm?

[stolemypi]

How are you so sure they're not yours then?

[gonnagetreaped]

The Commandant wouldn't send me anything of the sort, I'm afraid. We parted on somewhat ... inamicable terms, one might say.

[stolemypi]

And he'd send me cookies?

[gonnagetreaped]

It's plausible.

[stolemypi]

Hardly.

[gonnagetreaped]

Moreso than him sending anything to me.

[stolemypi]

That's why it has to have been sent to the wrong place.

[gonnagetreaped]

This many?