(Untitled)

[failowner]

[You may suddenly notice a quaint little shop in the area, with a sign hanging above the door that reads "Antique". A man in black and white and an apron is standing outside, with a bright smile on his face.]

We all eat cake during our happiest moments. Why don't you come and be happy with us?

Welcome, one and all, to Camp F'You D's Antique.

Comments

[thispersnickety]

Now that's more like it. I can always go for some cake.

[faildater]

Of course. Master will give you whatever you want right away.

[thispersnickety]

At what kind of price? Problem with this place is that you end up sorta strapped for cash.

[faildater]

[speaking from a distance]

Ask the owner!

[thispersnickety]

...

[... leans her head down to her shoulder and sniffs thoughtfully. No, that's not it.]

Is there something on my face?

[faildater]

No, that's n-not it.

Just think of pretty boys, just think of pretty boys...

[thispersnickety]

Then what is it? It's enough to give a girl a complex, you know.

[faildater]

I-It's embarrassing.

[thispersnickety]

[looks down at herself]

I don't smell, I know that much. Well, anymore than this place makes anyone smell. Do you have some kind of fear of the colour blue? Or -- [pause for thouuuught.]

[faildater]

[doesn't want to fill in that blank nooo]

[thispersnickety]

... you're not afraid of blondes, are you?

[faildater]

Not quite.

[thispersnickety]

... oh.

Gynophobia?

[taking a step back.]

[faildater]

[sigh]

Yes. I'm not comfortable with women, I'm afraid.

[thispersnickety]

Hey, don't worry about it. Everyone's afraid of something.

[faildater]

It's still embarrassing.