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[artistictemper]

[dictated; the sound of a dog sniffling faintly in the background]

Anybody actually gonna bother sellin' these things? 'Cos if anyone wants mine, take 'em before they get turfed. I can't get Penny to keep her nose out.

C'mon, Penny. Out. We're goin' outside. - Yeah, look, Penn', a biscuit that's not gonna make you ill. Leave those. These are

Comments

[weeabot]

I can second that. Ratchet's no better.

[artistictemper]

Ratchet's your dog?

[weeabot]

Yep. He's still a puppy, really. And he eats everything.

[artistictemper]

[heh] Sounds about right. These - what, Thin Mints? Just what we needed.