A very long update.

[slobberymongrel]

It's been brought to my attention that there's some sort of ridiculous wide-spread novel-writing disease called "Nannyreenoo." Does it work like b-rated muggle horror film zombies, then? If you kill the Nanny that started it, will the mystery-novel writting, cardigan knitting elderly converts all die off?

Comments

[favouredson]

I would buy a copy of that book so I could burn it.

[slobberymongrel]

I included you, what are you sulking about now?

[favouredson]

I'm not sulking. I'm threatening you indirectly by threatening your autobiography.

[slobberymongrel]

Do you want to come to a party with me?

[favouredson]

How are you going to write such a long book when you clearly can't even read?

[slobberymongrel]

Im not, brother.

Now, I figure, Im a very busy, very handsome man. I cant be wasting my time locked up in some attic, scribbling away at parchment, Suffering for My Art and all that nonsense. Im rich enough to have minions doing that kind of thing for me. I'll simply write a guideline, and hire lots of little drones to have at the in-between bits.

It seems there is a Black who cant read, but it certaintly isnt me. Come with me?

[favouredson]

Is there something wrong with you? I don't want to spend time with you. That includes parties. Not to mention, who knows what manner of Mudbloods you consort with these days.

[slobberymongrel]

They're actually immortals. There's going to be a shark tank. Come on. I'll give you a kiss.